Cat Nap

👨‍👧 Dad Log

Rolled up to my old house Sunday morning. Unzipped the Soberlink case, powered up the breathalyzer. Waited for the green light—level. Opened the app, hit “Submit Test,” and blew until the LED flashed blue. Thirty seconds later, it confirmed delivery to my wife.

She’d already placed Nina by the front door in her car seat, clutching a bundle of my mail. Didn’t acknowledge me. Just left the baby there like a package. Nina lit up when she saw me.

I clicked the car seat into the base and drove off.

Back home, I set Nina down on the playmat. She beelined for her toys—just three of them: a ring stacker, a rubber Roku remote, and a textured book. That’s it. Never bored.

I preemptively heated a bottle of formula before the hunger cries kicked in. She downed most of it. I queued up her playtime Spotify playlist on the TV. The kid songs filled the room while she did her thing. At 11 a.m., it was lunchtime.

I strapped her into the high chair, bib locked in. Leftover Italian shredded beef pasta—cut into toddler-sized bites. She rejected the spoon at first but went full primal with her hands. Then she came back around to the spoon. Gave her sips of water between bites. My parents FaceTimed in. They cooed at Nina while I spoon-fed her pasta.

Shit. Forgot to wash her hands before. Made a mental note to clean up after.

I set Nina back on the playmat. My cat, Omen, perched on the couch, watching like a spirit guard. He’s used to her now—unfazed. She’s obsessed with him but can’t get on the couch yet, so peace is preserved.

Snapped a few selfies with Nina. Got a good one with both of us sticking our tongues out. She played independently, giving me a window to check my phone while keeping one eye on her.

Eventually, she passed out—face down, butt in the air like a little fox in hibernation. Looked uncomfortable, but peaceful. I prompted ChatGPT: “When can I move her without waking her?” It said wait 10–15 minutes and gave me a precise scoop technique.

I waited, then tried the scoop. She wasn’t in the right position—woke up immediately. Rookie move. I rocked her gently, rubbed her back. She calmed and passed out again—on the mat. Good enough. I stayed close.

At 3:15 p.m., I woke her up for snack time. Washed her hands this time. High chair again. Smashed avocado with sea salt and pepper. She never turns that down. Cleaned her up, cranked out a diaper change.

Then it was time.

I clicked her back into the car seat, drove her home, ran the Soberlink again. Dropped her at the front door. Texted her mom:

“She had a late snack after her nap. Diaper changed before drop-off.”