A few items...
Charlie and Rossby (and Ryan and me, as their facilitators) were in a neighborhood Fourth of July parade on Friday.
Here's Charlie in his parade float:
Also in Charlie's float, lots and lots of "snacks":
(because he is a little nervous around his wagon ever since the first time we used it and it tipped over into some grass and I thought food would take his mind off the terror of being thrown from a moving vehicle by one of his parents. It worked like a champ) Good times. I love our neighborhood.
Before the parade was the Boy Scout Pancake Breakfast at the fire station.
Notice how Charlie is looking to the right. There were fire trucks just outside the big bay doors from where we were eating. Charlie was hopelessly distracted. I think he ate a sausage patty and some orange juice for breakfast (and also a pantsload of Ritz Crackers during the parade). Finally tiring of trying to limit his squirming I asked him if he wanted me to take him to see the trucks. He jumped off Ryan's lap, grabbed my hand and shouted "BYE!!!" to the rest of the table. Then he RAN all the way to the fire trucks with me in tow saying "IRE RUCK! IRE RUCK! IRE RUCK!" and making a siren noise all the way.
You've never seen a happier boy (even though he doesn't look happy in the pictures):
Left to right: Bravo, Charlie
Today I picked Charlie up early from the nursery (he was none too pleased, either, when he realized he wouldn't be finishing his Goldfish and sippy of juice) and took him into church with Ryan and me for the last hymn (which was "America"). I've been wanting to do this for some time and since it was a communion Sunday we had plenty of time today. When he and I walked into the sanctuary the hymn had already begun and Charlie was in awe. He looked around with huge eyes at all the people, the stained glass windows, the organ. It was so neat. I would love to include him in more of the service (I thought communion might be good because of everyone getting up and moving around but he wouldn't understand the significance and I can imagine a really big, inappropriate freakout when he was only allowed one bite of bread), but I don't think he's ready so maybe the last hymn is a good place to start. I loved having him with us, especially for such a special hymn.
After church we went to Schlotzky's for lunch (we call it "The Schlotz" because it sounds a little dirty) where the second we pulled into the parking lot Charlie shouted something unintelligable and then repeated "Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmm! Mmmmmmm!" while signing "good". Some kids know about family dinners on Sunday, ours knows about grilled cheese at the local fast food deli chain. Awesome. I had a pretty good gas-traction (which feels exactly like a contraction except it's really probably just gas) during lunch. I hunched over, eyes bugging out of my head, pretending to be super fascinated with the crust of my roast beef and cheese sandwich, and concentrated on not yelling "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!" thus startling other diners who obviously wouldn't know I am only 27 weeks and might try to offer embarassing Good Samaritan-style assistance. Like calling 911. Whatever it was has only happened one time, thank goodness, and not the four times in an hour that would warrant a trip to the doctor. Any heroic "I made it through transition last time with no drugs I could totally do it naturally this time" type delusions I once had are now GONE. I don't miss them.