Trick or Treat

I was a much more productive poster as a prospective parent but, as a novice mommy, confess that I do find it difficult to jiggle the baby on my shoulder and type with one hand. This baby does seem to need a lot of jiggling. A lot of holding. A lot of nursing. A lot of diapers. Luckily, we have all of those things in abundance, even though it means placing everything else that constituted my life on hold.

Baby C's arrival in time for Halloween meant that Greg and I could prop her next to us on the sofa and shamelessly watch "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." When I was little, I used to watch it every year with bated breath, hoping against all hope that Linus would finally wise up and go trick or treating. But, unfailingly, he chose to spend the night in the pumpkin patch, waiting for the Great Pumpkin, and he always duped stupid Sally into staying with him. Nearly thirty years later, I found myself just as exasperated with the two of them as my six-year-old self used to be.

Baby C's arrival in time for Halloween also meant that we could, without irony, carve a pumpkin and decorate the front porch. Greg thought it also meant he could be Baby C's proxy and trick or treat on her behalf, but either his good sense or his complete lack of costume eventually changed his mind. Good grief!