I had big plans to recreate the blog post I lost, the one about Zach’s arrival and the first few weeks afterward, but I have kind of lost my mojo in that department. I have started to actually feel some of the feelings one feels about such an event, and I don’t feel good about it, and I don’t want to dwell on it, because the past six weeks have been incredibly awesome with an overlay of extreme suckiness. In fact, much of the past year has been like that, taken up as it was by an unpleasant pregnancy. But! As much as I have zero interest in ever doing it again, it was undeniably worth it. A+++++ baby. Would gestate and deliver him again. He sleeps well and he never cries for no reason and he is very snuggly and also he kind of looks like my Grandpa, thanks to some impressive jowls and the male pattern baldness thing he’s got going on. Last week he barfed a gallon of undigested milk on me, waited a minute, then flashed me a big toothless grin. Such is life with a newborn.
Ellie is spending this week with her grandparents, so the pace of life has slowed a bit, which is refreshing although of course I miss her terribly. Last week was Halloween, and we had big plans for Mike to take her trick-or-treating for the first time, but since this is Ontario in October, there was wind and rain that combined in such a way that the rain seemed to be coming in sideways, so we opted to keep her home and have her help hand out candy to the trick-or-treaters, who were surprisingly legion in spite of the inclement weather. Turns out that handing out candy was the highlight of her young life thus far. She sat perched on the chair in the window of my office, which looks out onto our front porch, and spent 90 minutes chirping excitedly about the whole process. “More kids! Wait for more kids! I share candy with kids! Mommy see more kids? Kids are here! Bye kids! See you again soon!”
This also meant she had unrestricted access to the candy bowl, which we eventually restricted after we had determined she had had enough, not that that dampened her enthusiasm for sugar, which she continued to request over and over, each time shot down by her dad or I telling her she’d had enough. Eventually she had an idea so sudden and brilliant that were she a cartoon character it would have been illustrated by the appearance of a lightbulb over her head, and proceeded to dig through the candy bowl until she found three fun-sized chocolate bars, one of which she proceeded to hand to me, one to Mike, and one she requested be opened for her. I guess she figured if WE were having candy, we couldn’t in good conscience deny HER the same privilege. She was not wrong.