I slept through most of my son's waking hours today. I took some NyQuil before bed last night and slept rather soundly all night. And when I woke up at about 8 or so this morning, I took some DayQuil. And still I felt very tired. So I thought, "Why not just get back in bed and rest awhile longer?" Because Stacy was home today, no school because of Easter -- the Passion of the Christ, the rolling of the rock, Cadbury Eggs and all that -- so it wouldn't hurt for me to "take a rest," which is what I call Gavin's naps. And so I got back in bed. And didn't wake up again until 1:20 p.m. My God. In fact, I think the only reason I woke up is because Stacy came in with Gavin to check on me to make sure I wasn't in a coma.
It was a beautiful day today, too. A shame I had to spend it sick. I missed playtime on a blanket in the backyard. Stacy said she took lots of pictures, but I haven't seen them yet. She said that at one point Gavin's foot went off of the blanket and into the grass and he started to cry. When Stacy tried to make him touch the grass with his hand he cried even more. So for some reason Gavin isn't a fan of our lawn. I can't really blame him. It's a travesty as far as lawns go. Mostly various weeds that I attempt to keep mowed. Of course, Gavin has no idea that his moms' lawn is of poor quality -- nor can he appreciate the fact that we eschew fertilizing and weed killing applications because we don't think having a golf course-quality lawn is worth spraying poison into the ground and contaminating the ground water. Call us crazy. In any case, it's a texture thing. Something new he's never felt and didn't like. Eventually he'll come around, I think, but even if he doesn't, well, there are always shoes.
In good news, Gavin seems to be feeling better. Not well, mind you, but better, which is what Stacy predicted based on the trajectory of her own cold. The cold she gave to Gavin. The cold Gavin gave to me. The family that germs together squirms together. Or whatever.
I did accompany Stacy and Gavin to the grocery store, although I probably shouldn't have gone for the good of mankind. But I wanted to get out of the house. We went to Kroger. Gavin was, as usual, adorable. He was even barefoot, which was a first for him at a public outing. I mean, he was barefoot when we brought him home from the hospital and all since it was July, but recently going to the store has always involved socks, sometimes shoes. Usually coats and hats and mittens. So this was quite a change. I love his little bare feet. Or should I say his giant Bear feet. Although in our excitement about the weather we forgot how grocery stores are always cold. But I think he was fine. He didn't seem to mind and we weren't there long.
After the store we went for a quick walk. Gavin was still barefoot and he even had dirty toes, most likely caused by his short time sitting in the grass while Stacy got the stroller out of the trunk (I was inside getting Henri's leash on and missed it, but Stacy said as soon as his feet touched the grass he started to cry again). Pretty soon he'll be walking (!) and his feet will be dirty an awful lot. I am no fan of dirty feet. Will I be able to convince a boy that clean feet are next to godliness or whatever? Or will I be scrubbing dirty boy footprints off the couch next to the dirty cat pawprints and the dirty poodle paws? I think I know the answer...
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