You know what I never thought I'd need in the summer? Mittens. Not for me, for the kid. It is impossible to keep a newborns nails short enough that they don't scratch themselves. He flails, a lot when I don't swaddle him, and the kid's fingers are like flying steak knives at his little face. Do you know how hard it is
not to heal your kid when you have the ability? It is a conscious effort to keep my Grace from healing his little bitty scratches. And not a good feeling. And now, mittens. Mittens of every color, texture and fabric type. Lots of mittens.
[private to Crowley]I ordered a bassinet for your room. It's easier than trying to drag around the pack-n-play or snap the one from my bed over whenever we need it.
I want you to try feeding him when you're ready. He needs to get accustomed to a bottle sometimes.
[private to Dean]I'm sorry. I know I said it already but I need to say it again. Maybe if I keep saying it, we'll both actually believe it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.