I had a "I just had a heart attack but I'm proud of you for helping!" moment today. Josh was at practice and little b was sleeping in the swing, so I got in the shower (one less thing to do in the morning, that way...). B was watching cartoons. He has always come and got me if little b starts crying while I'm in the shower.
I got out of the shower and things were quiet so I thought little b was still sleeping. I got my robe on and came out to the living room, and to my surprise, the baby was no longer in the swing. B had him in the boppy on B's lap, feeding little b a bottle, with a burp cloth slung over B's shoulder! He was so proud of himself! Apparently the baby woke up crying so B got a bottle that I had put in the fridge a short time before that, got the baby out of the swing (that's where the heart attack comes in), situated them on the couch with the boppy on B's lap, and fed him. And not only that, burped him. Twice.
The kid was MEANT to be a big brother!!!! (But I told him that next time, a grownup needs to pick the baby up, just in case he wiggles all of a sudden and B accidentally drops him. B agreed. Phew!)
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