I have to admit, it's awfully handy to have a third set of hands to help out with Owen; fresh hands at that. When grandchildren live away, you have to pack a whole lot of physical caring into these short visits and my mom is doing a great job of working herself into the rotation. Plus, I think grandmas secrete a special kind of endorphins only when they're feeding a baby, so it's kind of like crack to them. It's a win-win.
Literally the first thing she did when she got off the plane.
There are so many things that my mom mentions she wishes she had with my sister and me. The Bjorn is on that list.
I'm moving away from the Bjorn and onto the baby parrot method of carrying Owen. I need to wait until he eats crackers and has a vocabulary of 50 words or so 'til baby parrot is perfect.
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