Man, my freakin' left leg is killing me. I don't know if it's due to the massive bruise I picked up by banging my thigh into the side of a metal seat at W&M Hall or if toting my 25lb son around on my left hip has finally caught up with me. But bands of pain radiate around my thigh and knee; particularly sensitive is my knee area. Shoot, and the Komen 5K is this weekend. I thought I might have a chance at running a decent time this year. Grrrrr. I'll pop some Naproxen and settle in with the heating pad while I watch TiVo'd Heroes.
Yesterday, the Foley/Amos clan made the annual pilgrimage to Richmond's Arts in the Park. While breezy and a tad chilly, the weather was significantly more friendly than last year when it was freezing, windy, and raining. Poor Little A was barely three months at the time, but was a total trooper.
Normally just my mother and I go to Arts in the Park, but Adrian and my father joined us to share in Little A duties. It continues to amaze me that this one small creature commands the attention of four grown adults. During the three hours we toured the festival, we all took turns carrying Alastair, walking with him, feeding him snacks, or just generally amusing him. My dad did primary Baby Sherpa duty, lugging Little A about in his backpack carrier.
With his posse of handlers, my son is the toddler P. Diddy, except without the bling, the Cristal and some random dude who to carry his umbrella.
Outside of a few fusses, Alastair seemed to really enjoy Arts in the Park. There were lots of other children, doggies, and a trio of singing wenches to amuse him. The bus ride back to the parking lot seemed to be the highlight of his entire afternoon. Adrian and I got home slightly sunburned and exhausted. Even with two extra pairs of hands to wrangle his cute little butt, Alastair still wears us out. Sigh.
How is it that families of four or five or more children function? Is it that the oldest ones eventually function as babysitters for the youngest? Where do these parents get their energy? Exercise... Power Bars... crystal meth?
In other Little A-related news, Alastair is revealing himself to be a true Aquarius. He has discovered the joys of sticking his face into the bathwater and also loves to be dunked, baptizing-style into the water. He's also figured out how to squirt himself in the face with his little squirting alligator toy. For some babies this would be a source of frustration, but for our water-baby son, it just cracks him up.