I believe I’ve mentioned once or twice or fourteen-dozen times that my older son became…intensely challenging in the weeks and months right after we brought his baby brother home. He was three years old, and he was AWFUL. I feel like I can call him that because 1) he’s not, anymore, and 2) because he was objectively, literally, monumentally AWFUL.
Our swaddling blankets became a few of our most prized possessions. And since I still get questions about whether such-and-such blanket is worth the money or how many blankets should I register for or HALP MY BABY PUNCHES HERSELF IN THE FACE AT NIGHT, I figured it’s time to just put all my Very Important Opinions all in one place.