As of late, my baby has gotten too old, and too big, for her swaddling blankets.
This, as it turns out, is a good thing. (Not for my baby, it must be said, but instead for my wife and me.)
But please, allow me to explain.
One many occasions, I have personally noticed that these baby swaddlers, which are made of muslin or linen or some other such ridiculously soft and comfortable thing, are very, very popular with the other mothers (the other mothers?), but, ultimately, said offspring will outgrow these swaddlers, rendering them useless (the swaddlers, not the infants). The infants no longer need to be swaddled at night, and they also no longer require a “bottom blanket” (for which these swaddlers are also popular) during story time or music class or “gymnastics” class or any other baby classes (such as they are). Thusly, these muslin baby swaddlers are no longer of any use to anyone. They have outlasted their usefulness. They have now been condemned to the land of the infant useless.
Or so one might assume.
This, as it turns out, is not true.
This, as it turns out, is good news.
Even before my baby outgrew her infant swaddlers, my wife and I had begun commandeering these swaddlers for our own use: as napping cover-ups.
These lightweight comfortable muslin swaddlers, fit for the skin of a baby, intended to keep it neither too warm nor too cold, are incredibly suitable for adult-sized cover-ups during couch-arranged naps.
My wife and I had been patient for several months while watching our baby slowly outgrow her swaddlers. Now, the much-awaited payday had finally presented itself.
In fact, the idea had been broached to take more than one of her swaddlers (now that she no longer needed them, of course). The idea had been suggested that we (the wife and I) take all eight of her swaddlers and have them sewn into a napping quilt. The idea had been hinted at, once or twice, that, during one of my sundry infant classes, a couple of the swaddlers belonging to the other mothers (the other mothers?) might easily be secreted into my diaper bag and then smuggled out of there, ultimately to create multiple napping swaddlers, possibly one for every day of the week, or, perhaps even better, one huge napping swaddler, one that could cover much of our apartment, or perhaps even best, one single enormous napping swaddler that nearly everyone, yes everyone, could nap under. Yes, this seems an admirable goal: steal the swaddling blanket from every infant within reach, just so you could ostensibly provide napping-cover for yourself and all the rest of the other mothers (the other mothers?).
(All of this would only be possible, understand, given the assumed forgone conclusion that the babies of these aforementioned “other mothers” allowed these “other mothers” to actually, actively, nap, which they, the babies, historically and across the board, most decidedly do not. The selfish little brats. Thusly, one must assume that this behavior is intended so that they, the babies, might keep their napping swaddlers all to themselves. It is likely some sort of global underworld conspiracy. But who knows? Maybe it’s not the babies after all. Maybe it’s the other mothers.)