There is a portable baby carseat on your coffee table.
There are folded burp rags within reach from every chair.
There are five versions of the sound of running water on your favorites list.
There is a baby changing site with diapers, wet wipes, and extra outfits on your counter, fully stocked, and padded with a nice, thick bath towel.
Nuk pacifiers are at the ready from every chair.
Baby body wash (no tears) sits at the ready beside the kitchen sink.
Your tee shirt sports stains that you are proud of---because you got a good burp out of him.
Your nails are cut and filed super short so that you don't nick tender, soft skin.
Your love watching your husband kiss Baby James on the head, and Baby James marvel at his GrandDad's deep voice, and awesome bouncing skills.
Watching your two month old grandbaby stuggle to find his thumb is the most entertaining thing. He reaches up and pinches his own cheek, chin, and nose. One day soon, he will find it, and suck his little thumb just like his Daddy did 25 years ago...hooking a finger on his nose.
You discover that the floors at Walmart look smooth, but a baby in a portable car seat finds the bouncing of the shopping cart on the floor bouncy enough to be sleep inducing.
You giggle and jiggle and dance even when your arms are empty.