One of the things I particularly like about babies, and obviously I have Jude in mind when I write this, is how in-the-moment they perceive life. Never will I see Jude burst into tears when we tell him we’re going to leave the room. Instead, it is in that very moment of leaving the room that he cries in defiance. Likewise, if something mildly traumatic happened yesterday- such as a favorite toy breaking and bopping him upside the noggin- it’s all forgotten about in a matter of a few cuddles.
Jude celebrated his seven-month milestone in style, spending the day swimming about our family friend’s pool in his ducky yellow blow-up ring and tie-dye suit. When Jude sports the full-piece suit, I can only describe it in terms of a miniature jiihadist with the rectangular Styrofoam pieces, eerily resembling explosives, sewn into the sides. It ensures that even in the event that the ring somehow capsizes, he’ll still be buoyant. Jude even has pairs of water diapers that deceivingly look like regular ones. We very quickly learned the difference when my middle ended up soaking wet as Jude wrapped his long legs around me as I carried him around when the three of us stopped in town for lunch.
I always enjoy hearing stories from grandparents about how back in their day there were no car seats, floatation devices, or any safety standards for that matter. Now, we practically gift-wrap our little ones in the event that a natural disaster strikes in the supermarket. However, as the old adage goes, “Better safe than sorry.”
Recently, Matt brought back to our apartment a tub of my clothes I had been storing at his parent’s house. As I rummaged through, I was delighted to discover that I can fit into all the size 8 pants I wore last summer teaching ESL in Boston. Even two weeks ago, I had to really shimmy, huff and puff to squeeze into the lone pair I kept at my apartment. After I managed to get them on, the button never wanted to cooperate and I would walk around in fear of sitting as my excess tummy skin threatened to come pouring out like molten lava.
Feeling quite tickled, I also found a pair of stretchy GAP pj pants that I wore non-stop during the last week of my pregnancy when I could no longer put my shoes on without assistance. They’re size XL, with pink flowers against a maroon background. Holding the waistline up to my stomach, I felt like Subway’s Jared after he began devouring low-cal sandwiches in place of pure, unadulterated lard. I’m going to keep them just to remind myself of how big I once was.
Other news is that Matt and I bought tickets out to Portland for August 20th to scope the scene out. We're going just the two of us for one week, which means it'll be an easier trip without the baby and all of his accessories, but at the same time I can't imagine not being with him for an entire week!