2003-07-28
Here's Clay on his trike. (Mildly deceptive, because though his feet are located properly, he has yet to master the art of pedalling.)
That's pretty much his summer look: shorts, T-shirt or polo, and fisherman sandals with little socks. I have to say, I love the sandals with socks, the way they accentuate his plump little legs.
Yesterday I took him to Babies R Us to buy something called a crib tent. I was prompted by the fact that a friend's kid, who's a couple months Clay's senior, had just climbed out of his crib.
The store was crawling with pregnant woman, accompanied by husbands, mothers, or girlfriends. Clay was behaving in a reasonably agreeable manner so long as I indulged his desires. I let him climb on a Jeep-themed stroller that struck his fancy because, well, why not.
But when I insisted we move on after 20 minutes, the mini-tantrum began. I got the feeling that I was really harshing the mellow of all the women expecting their first babies, that they were secretly thinking "My child will never act like that." I know this because that's what I thought when I was pregnant.
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These are rough times for me. Thank goodness I'm in therapy.
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