Still having a great time... we are in Cape Cod now. I was a bit dissapointed that we didn't almost die driving through Boston as I had anticipated. We didn't have to swerve, or honk, or make up new swear words capable of capturing the depth of our anger at the driver of the car/truck/bus who cut me off/nearly pushed me off a bridge/kinda looked at me funny. Traffic moved nicely except for one small snarl that took about ten minutes to get through. Screamers McGee was taking a nap, having worn himself out screaming his way through all twelve miles of New Hampshire. It was nice.
This morning we went to visit my Grandpa and introduce him to Charlie. Charlie sweetly put his hand around my Grandpa's finger and shook his hand and then patted him on his arm repeatedly during the visit. When we stood together for a picture, Charlie put his hand on Grandpa's shoulder and looked at him thoughtfully. When my aunt told my Grandpa that Charlie was able to sit up and roll over both ways, my Grandpa cracked "He's at the same level I am!" We had a nice visit talking about babies and Fourth of July and parades and our plans for the day. Then we left him in the activity room where I think he was going to watch a movie.
For lunch we went to my grandparents' beach club. Lunch was lovely as always and the beach was wonderful, but I don't know what happened to Charlie. My god, the screaming. Round one began shortly after we arrived. After about half an hour Ryan was able to get him to sleep in a quiet living room of the club. I sat down, shirt covered in snot and tears, to eat my lunch. Ryan had a phone interview, so he got us all settled on the beach and went outside the front door of the club where you are allowed to use cell phones (as he was reminded sharply a number of times by the woman at the front desk). I read my book as Charlie sat at my feet playing appropriately and silently with toys we had brought him, never once trying to eat sand and then grinning up at me with a sand-drool concrete sliding down his cheeks or shrieking in anger because of a particularly frustrating shape sorter moment.
We took Charlie swimming because the magic never stops around here; no matter how pissed off Charlie already seemed to be, dipping him in cold water seemed like fun. He was scared of the breaking waves so Ryan took him out into a little deeper water (like three feet). He had a great time dangling his feet in the water and squealing when a wave came and soaked up to the hem of his swimsuit. Then a giant icy wave came and hit him square between the shoulder blades and that was the end of swimming.
Charlie took a long nap on Ryan's chest. It was very sweet and idyllic and peaceful. And I got to read multiple (!) pages of my book, uninterrupted. And then he woke up. MAD. One more feeding in the club's nursing room and we decided to go home so that cranky could have some down time before bed. Instead he screamed (I am probably overusing "scream" but I am telling you that this was no ordinary crying) for two hours straight. We think he might have gotten sunscreen or sand in his eyes because they were red and swollen and sad and he kept pushing on his cheekbones. They look much better now.
Finally he is asleep. And that's where I am headed now. Because, wow, I am exhausted.