It was 33 degrees in Brookline this morning, and it's still only September. After having one of the most miserable, wet, and cool summers on record, I can't say that I'm completely ready for this. I really do love living in a place that has seasons, but I have to say that a pretty hot summer makes the shift to brisk, crisp mornings that much more welcome. I don't really feel like we had a summer at all, so part of me is anticipating the long, cold, Boston winter with some serious dread.
However, this will be Beckett's first fall, and the first in our new home. And because he has become so alert and observant, I really enjoy watching him experience it. On our way to daycare last week, Beckett gazed out the car window at the changing leaves, his blue eyes (although they're turning more green every day) peeking solemnly out of the hood of his brown sweatshirt. I am excited to go apple picking, and I want to can some homemade apple sauce for November, when Beckett will start eating solid food. There is much to look forward to with this beautiful and bittersweet time of year.
For a kid who refused to go to sleep while there was a shred of light in the sky, Beckett has taken to his new earlier bedtime like a champ. Subsequently, his recent 4 am wake times have been a little tough. Lately, we've been pulling him into bed with us for the last hour or two, snuggling and dozing together. Our bedrooms are in the basement level of our condo, and the space has become noticably cooler and more dry. We'll need to pull out the sleep sacks again for Beckett, who now squirms up to the top left corner of his crib every night to wedge himself into the warmth and comfort of the bumper. Apparently the bumper on the bottom right, bottom left, and top right are just not nearly as comfortable. No matter where you put him down in the crib, you will always find him in the top left corner come morning. Weird, right?
Jim celebrated a birthday last week (I won't say which), and he got a card from Beckett in the mail, sent by his daycare providers. It was decorated with a rainbow of little foot prints, and said "Happy Birthday, Daddy. I love you! Your son, Beckett".
Sigh. Too bad I don't have a baby book, but this card is definitely going in the Ikea box.