I planned a big post for Halloween. I even took pictures of Beckett in his costume specifically with this blog in mind. But as you can see, the post never happened. You know what did? Life, work, and the annual art sale. I have run this sale for six years, and I still emerge from the haze and stress at the end of November, rub my eyes, look at a calendar and say 'sweet jesus, it's Thanksgiving!?'. Every single year.
Beckett did fine on the costume dry run we had done a few weeks earlier. However, after a day in the city and a pathetic excuse for an afternoon nap, he lasted thirty seconds and cried so pitifully that we had to take it off. Poor little guy. Oh, and I have a bone to pick with our neighborhood. I thought that moving to Brookline would mean hoards of cute little trick-or-treaters and lots of candy-giving. Indeed it does not. We had one sad little infant in a dragon costume with a drunk mother. Oy. I had even done research about which was the most coveted Halloween candy (gummy anything) so if you like sour gummy worms, let me know. We have bags of them.
So fast-forward three huge developmental weeks and we're at Thanksgiving. Since Halloween Beckett has learned to sit up on his own, is pushing backwards on his belly, and started eating vegetables. Well, he's not exactly eating them. It's more like screaming, gagging, screwing up his lips, and grabbing furiously for the spoon before I force any more into his mouth. So far neither sweet potatoes or green beans are a big hit but I refuse to allow my child to be a picky eater. So we will continue to offer it and hopefully one day, he will just eat it. Because dammit, sweet potatoes are good!
He has also developed a deep affection for his little rubber giraffe, Sophie. He absolutely loves Sophie, and spends many contented hours chomping happily on her legs. And as he grows, so do the toys. He no longer wants to lay in his baby gym, but instead would rather sit and play with toys placed in front of him. So we took the bars of the gym and set up a little play space for him in the kitchen. Sadly, almost all of the pictures taken of him in the last two weeks are of him in this exact spot, with different outfits on. I really should vary it up a bit.
Jim's parents came over, as did one of his climbing buddies. Beckett's highchair was pulled up to the table, and we sat around eating delicious food, feeling thankful, and mostly just watching Beckett. That kid can draw a crowd, and he's really starting to understand it. He finally, finally! smiled wide for the camera, which he never, ever does.
I really love Thanksgiving. What can possibly be bad about a holiday centered around food, family, and feeling grateful? I've written about it before and I will say it again. I feel so grateful that I could burst. We have a beautiful, healthy, happy, hilarious, sweet son. I have a husband who sent me to the movies while he cleaned the house on Wednesday. I have parents who are supportive, interesting, and for whom I have not only love but genuine affection and the utmost respect. In a really tough economy, both Jim and I have good jobs. We live in a place that sometimes feels like heaven for its beauty and ease of lifestyle. We have a cadre of friends who truly make up the fabric of our family.
Nothing will put it all in perspective like a baby. Our wonderful life isn't just Jim's and mine. It's Beckett's too, and that makes all of this wonderfulness so much more important. I just hope that it doesn't take him having his own child to recognized it, and that he grows up to be a grateful, appreciative, and thankful person.
Happy Thanksgiving.
