An Ode to Our Baby Swing

Dear Baby Swing,

Pre-baby, I was one of those women who scoffed at the idea of littering my home with plastic gadgets that would keep my child from crying. (I know, I know. I’m cringing as I admit this. I hope I’m not offending you or your family.) I wanted to be a completely minimalist parent, stocking up on the bare essentials and nothing else. After all, if I couldn’t calm my crying baby, what could?

You could, Baby Swing.

You, the glorious Swing that jostles our sweet baby girl when she is positively inconsolable and her father’s arms can jostle no more. The Swing that sings to her as she smiles and giggles at the mobile elephants dancing above. The Swing that holds her as her mother puts away groceries, heats dinner, and (gasp!) showers.

Sweet Swing, you are welcomed into our family with open arms. You have given us moments of peace. Hours of sleep. And days of pure bliss. I will never again distrust you or your other gadget friends at the warehouse. In fact, if you have a plastic uncle who changes diapers, have him give me a call, yes?

Thank you, Baby Swing. I’ll love you forever.


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