Of Baby Baskets and Bathtubs

 My sister brought this little baby basket back with her when she returned from a visit to Honduras in the mid-eighties. As the passengers adjusted themselves for the flight home, she had it at her feet, and just before take-off the stewardess walked past, muttered "everything but the kitchen sink" under her breath, grabbed it up, and tried to stuff it in the overhead compartment. My sister ended up carrying the basket all the way home to Texas.  Then Turtle cut foam into the shape of a mattress; my mom sewed a removable cover for it and made little bumper pads to keep the scratchy sides away. Two of my children, at least four nephews and nieces, and two grandchildren took a turn at sleeping in it. Now, it's a Blaze basket, as you can see.

 (I'd really like to have a picture of every baby who slept in this little basket...in the basket, if that's possible. Send them to me and I'll do a sequence.)

 In the evenings, Blaze still doesn't sleep too well. He gets transferred from car seat to swing to bouncer to bassinet to basket...but mostly he just fusses for somebody to hold him. I went to bed at ten o'clock last night so I could relieve the baby-handling crew later. 





 Sure enough, at one in the morning, he still hadn't given anybody any rest, but he was tired enough to give up when I rocked him and tucked him in for the night. In fact, he set a new record of five and a half hours of blessed sleep. Looks like more peaceful days may be ahead for Elijah and Marie.

 This morning, after he ate, I decided that he could sit in a bathtub on the table while I made coffee for myself, swept, and picked up a few things around the kitchen. The lighting was perfect for me to grab the camera...which I had just happened to place conveniently on the kitchen bar.

 What do babies think about when they sleep?
He smiles one second and frowns the next.

 Frequently, he chuckles aloud.

 Hey! Wait a minute! Who stuck me in a bathtub?