Coulda Woulda Shoulda.

This evening among the cows, and the goats, and the sheep, and the odd juxtaposition of the bunny rabbits (to look at) not to be confused with the braised bunny rabbits* (not to look at, but to eat) that is our local 4-H fair, I was offered this little gem by a kind and seemingly well intentioned passerby. "He should be sleeping through the night."

His sweet tickling of little boy was being met by sweet little boy giggles, so I could tell this man was good people - Cooper being the ultimate judge - but the statement sort of got my goat. (sorry, couldn't help it, the goats were, once again Char's favorite. we spent a lot of time looking at the goats).

Could he sleep through the night? Yes. Would I like him to sleep through the night? Um, hello? Should he sleep through the night? A different question.

What I know, for certain, about parenting in my 2-odd years of attempting it could fit on the tip of my pinkie. More like, what I know for certain today will likely be tossed out tomorrow. But I do know that babies are, you know, actual little people, not just plastic molds off the assembly line with eyes that automatically close when laid flat.

With his flirtatious, copycat of his dad's, grin, I'm often asked if Cooper is a "good baby?" Let's see, he's as happy as a pig in poop and healthy as a horse. Yet, he still enjoys his midnight snack(s). So he has an arm or leg awkwardly sticking out of the norm's "good baby box." But to us he's the goodest of the good.

And you know what - your baby is a good baby too. Your baby that cries three hours in a row, your baby that refuses the boob or the first or fourth type of formula, your baby that cries with strangers, your baby that cries with you but not with strangers, your baby that needs that antibiotic filled again - all of them are good babies.

So should we judge all babies by the same standard? Probably not, let's leave that to the fair's showring.

*oddly enough, tastes like chicken.