Sophie the Giraffe to the Rescue

Another crazy Monday, coming off a decidedly mellow and enjoyable weekend. Thursday night we had Rosh Hashanah dinner with my in-laws in the burbs and it was a nice, relaxed occasion. As you may or may not have noticed I'm freakishly close with my family, and I want to give HR the opportunity to say the same so I'm happy for any chance we get to have him passed around by grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. I'm really looking forward to the winter holidays, not this year alone, but in the future, when the baby can raise hell with his little and big cousins. Xmas and Chanukah are for kids, as far as I'm concerned.

Friday I worked from home, and though I couldn't do this job full time from home for various reasons, I feel lucky to have that extra day to be in the presence of my little family, especially since it's usually the only day the three of us have together. My current project is trying my hand at writing a manual-- I'm adapting an already-written manual to make it specific to our office use so I'm not exactly starting from scratch, but it's a nice challenge all the same.

Saturday was a beautiful, autumn-y day and we met friends at a Greek Festival to chow down and enjoy each other's company. Oh man, Greek food is awesome. Festivals like that remind me of growing up, the way people come together for these community fundraising dealies and everyone works so hard. The old ladies serving the food in my town were mostly Italian and French-Canadian (as was the food), but that's just semantics. You know you're going to get the best of the authentic best for a steal. And it's always a very specific type of old lady making and serving the food. The one who served my salad went into the kitchen to chase down an olive because she was very concerned that I didn't get any, and another gossiped about the eating habits of some of the other attendees. They're strangers, but I know these ladies in a way that's very comforting. The festival  ran all weekend and I gladly would have eaten every meal there. I may or may not have taken away a double order of baklava for that night's dinner, I'll let you decide.

Mike had to work later on and baby decided his bedtime would be an hour earlier for some reason, so I retired to my bed with a book, a glass of wine and the remote control. It was heaven. Annie Hall was on, followed by Beautiful Girls. I have a list of grievances with that second movie, but I like it in spite of itself because a) the soundtrack is stellar and (the Afghan Whigs are actually in the movie so automatic points) and b) I am nostalgic for both the mid-1990s time period as well as that small-town New England setting (even though it turns out it was filmed in Minnesota). There's something so romantic to me about going out to bars when it's cold outside and walking home in the snow. Ask me again how I feel about that last part in February. Anyway, what constitutes a great Saturday night for me has apparently changed significantly over the past year, but I'm not embarrassed to admit it.

Yesterday was my day alone with the babe, and it was pretty great, though he had a rough bedtime, crying for an hour like he hasn't done since he was a tiny newborn. I felt so bad for my sweet little moosh, and just walked and walked with him, that being the only thing that seemed to console him until he finally fell asleep. Mike and I are beginning to suspect that the joy of teething has begun. Oh, lard.

Hmm, I thought I had more to say, but no. Turns out that's all for now.