Thursday was pretty crappy. By a happy coincidence, it was Mr. Book’s turn to get up with the baby, so I spent the morning in bed. I was pretty useless all day—Joey ate only snacks, which makes me feel lousy (by which I mean yogurt, crackers, string cheese, apple, tangerine, milk, and water; I don’t feel “I fed my baby Doritos” levels of guilt). Both Mr. Book and I felt pretty ground down, and Joey surely picked up on that; he had his very first forty-minute tantrum, sparked when I offered him water in a straw cup for the first time (the next morning, I offered him the same cup and he cheerfully drank from it with no issue whatsoever). I sat with him and rubbed his back and stopped him from slamming his head into anything but me or the carpet. It was faintly amazing; I don’t think I could keep up that kind of fit for forty minutes. Afterwards, we took him on a walk to feed apples to a horse. I had intended to call Cricket and wish him a happy birthday, but just . . . couldn’t.
Ruth contacted me to see whether I minded her posting a picture of all five of us at Cricket’s birth to Facebook; I said that it was fine, which it is, although I really didn’t want to talk to her on that particular day. We did send Cricket’s gift in a timely fashion, and he opened it Saturday, so far as I know; we accidentally outdid Ruth and Nora, who have had a bit much on their plates and decided to go with just a small gift, some play food. We sent an Aquadoodle, which I think will go over well, and some car stickers. Cricket isn’t having a party this year, but he did get to celebrate at a friend’s house on Saturday, which must have been fun.
I was surprised by how bad Friday was, honestly. I found myself staring at the clock, counting down to 1 p.m.—the time that we handed him to his moms and left. Ruth had mentioned Thursday that they celebrate “Family Day” on that day, and while I hate that, it’s mostly just because it is our “Don’t Gotcha Day.” Later in the afternoon, I was less upset, and certainly I was able to have a pretty good time with the little Snerks.
The weekend was much better; we had a very nice Sunday. I made candy all day and then made dinner, and so Joey went on a couple of outings with the Grands. We all went to church in the morning, and Joey and I hung out in the nursery, which he still seems to like. Afterwards, my father introduced Joey to their pastor: the pastor has a very intense, huckster-ish affect, and when he greeted Joey, Joey burst into tears. (We got him a bagel, and he was fine.) Really, though the afternoon was great: Joey went on a long walk, he got to see an outdoor mall, and he rode with his granddad on a toy train. He is so energized by an outing of any kind—we take him out just about every day, and I think he’d go out three times a day if he could.
I guess that’s a lame attempt to end on a cheerful note, but there you go. I’m off to wrap Cricket’s Christmas present.