Normally, I get pretty fussy in the early evening, and it is difficult to get me to calm down. I used to think this was inevitable, and there was nothing to be done, but now I'm not so sure. I was fussy last night, so my grandmother Dorothy spent lots of time picking me up, patting me on the back, and talking in a singsongy way to me. This kept me calm for awhile. When it came time for dinner, she had to put me down, so I went in my big swing. (I now have enough neck strength that my head doesn't loll in an odd way in this device anymore.) This kept me happy for a little while, but about half way through dinner, I was unhappy again. My grandmother Dorothy plucked me out of the swing and laid me down on my tummy on a blanket on the floor. My Mommy and Daddy both shook their heads and seriously questioned the wisdom of that move since for them it seems to work poorly. Well, just to let them know that I'm still full of surprises, I went straight to sleep in this position! They were amazed.

My grandmother gloated happily over how her vast experience with little guys like me gives her an intuition that they simply do not have. Hee hee. I think she may be right.