He gets a little grumpy in the evenings, does iRoc. So we have a few techniques that work (most of the time). Swaddling, rocking, pacifier, and my favorite, turning on the exhaust fan over the stove. He loves that, for some reason.
The first few, I can kind of understand. Swaddling and rocking mimic conditions in utero, and that's comforting. Pacifiers mimic, well, boobs, and what isn't comforting about those, I ask you?
But the noise from the exhaust fan over the stove? (or from the one in the bathroom, or the dishwasher, or the drier?) Must be an evolutionary thing, right? Like his brain stem's distant memory of when homo sapiens roamed the savannah, running alongside cheetahs, eating nuts and berries and lounging around next to big household appliances that made lots of noise... Or something.
Anyways, here's Dad working the magic (exhaust fan noise not pictured).