.plan

The wife and I have a bit of cabin fever. Three straight weeks cooped up
in the house with a baby – no matter how cute that baby is – can
do that to you. The four walls of my bedroom and the four walls of
my living room are now intimately familiar. I’ve seen them again, again,
and again. They are there early in the morning, in the middle in the
afternoon, and in the very late hours of the day.
Sure we’ve been to the doctor twice. We even visited Walmart
for some baby supplies, Target for some diapers, and Target for some
diapers (no, I’m not repeating myself) but none of those trips can
really be considered a leisure activity (now a trip to Best Buy, that
would be a leisure activity).

The baby is doing great. Except for the occasional sleepless night,
he’s fallen into a good pattern of eat, sleep, and repeat. For a
couple hours each day, his eyes open and explore the world from
his perch upon mommy or daddy. Mommy and daddy stay busy doing
what mommies and daddies do: feed him, change his diapers, take the
well-deserved cat nap, and, best of all, stare back into the
cutest pair of eyes on earth. But mommy and daddy are ready
to take a break, if only for a few moments.

The wife and I want to head out for a few hours and scarf down some grub,
leaving our child in someone’s very capable hands. We’ll have
a nice little chat over a meal, see a couple of new walls for a
change, and enjoy each other’s company without the restrictions
of our home. We haven’t yet decided where to eat because
that isn’t really the tough decision. Where to eat is hardly
the issue. This will be the first time we leave our child in the
care of someone else – anyone else. The real question
is: which set of grandparents get to watch their grandson
first?

This question cannot be taken lightly. Former presidents haven’t had
to balance the politics of a decision quite as delicate as this.
Grandparents on both sides of our now three person family are quite anxious
to watch over their new grandson without the supervision of their
nervous son or daughter.

Our job, and it begins now, is to strike a good balance between
the babysitting offers that have been tendered – from grandparents,
aunts, uncles, and friends alike – and those we actually accept.
A healthy supply will
allow the wife and I to catch an emergency movie now and then.
Stoking demand properly will keep everyone, particularly the
grandparents, happy, where the balance between
“I never see my grandson” and
“You want to us to watch that hellion again?” is nervously thin.
But who gets first dibs? Who sets the wheels in motion?

The answer, in the end, should have been obvious. How could we not know who
deserves it most? Isn’t it easy to see? How
could our selection criteria have been any easier?

That’s right. We are going to flip a coin.