I got so wrapped up in the ER visit that I completely neglected to say anything about our Thanksgiving and Post Thanksgiving socializing. I’m happy to say 2007 was Baby’s First Alice’s Restaurant thanks to the traditional airing of said song by WDVE. Donovan seemed nonplussed but he doesn’t know enough about Vietnam to really get the nuances.
I listened to Alice’s Restaurant, fittingly, while making the Fin de Siecle stuffing. That was the only thing I had to do this year as the in-laws had invited us up for dinner. Thanksgiving dinner there was a big deal as it was the first time that Donovan would meet Ceil. I’m not sure if “Ceil” is the proper spelling but it’s the short version of Cecelia. Ceil is a childhood friend of my mother-in-law so she has been a proxy Shanley for well over 70 years. If she likes you she LOVES you and, while the feeling is mutual, being pelted with compliments is a lot like being nibbled to death by ducks (to paraphrase Kenneth Anger describing how it feels to be sued by Scientologists…). ANYhow, Ceil loves babies and since we apparently have birthed a prime specimen, a list of the Ceil quotes of the evening would run something like this. Please apply a strong Pittsburghese accent:
“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous”
“I can’t get over how gorgeous he is!”
“Martha, he’s beautiful!”
“I can’t get over how beautiful he is”
“Oh my God, I can’t get over how beautiful he is!”
Repeat with slight variations and some pauses for turkey and pie. Continue for roughly 4 hours. And while I got a little weary with my “thank yous,” Donovan loved her and did his smiling, reaching, “for an adult you are fascinating!” routine. Which made me very happy. Plus, as Arlo would say, our Thanksgiving Dinner Could’nt Be Beat.
I put that envelope under that garbage…
Next on the agenda was a trip to Crafton for a post Thanksgiving party at the home of my sister-in-law’s cousin’s house. We had been there for a summer event a year or two ago and we knew to expect great food, wonderful atmosphere and great people. I was geeked to show off the boy but I realize now that he was starting to come down with whatever it is that he has. We drove out there when Mike was done with work and, when we got there, I realized I’d forgotten the diaper bag. The diaper bag that contained every baby lifeline you could think of: Enfamil, diapers, toys, Mama’s antacid. Mike dropped us off and went back to get the stuff and Donovan and I went in to meet and be greeted. He held up ok for the first few folks but then he had a quick meltdown. He hovered between happy and fussy the rest of the night, tho Dad coming with the food definitely helped. It ended up being a nice time and I’m awaiting incriminating photos of my son smoking a cigar. That’s right: “Donovan the Mogul.”
The next day Donny was officially sick but, as Amanda and Allison were in town, we all had to step up to the plate and make a visit. This time was particularly important as we only get to see them once a year and, who knows? By next year Donovan may not be cute. Strike while the iron is adorable, I always say. For a quick visit it was very nice with updates and laughing and damn good chocolates. Donny fussed a bit when his Aunt Shirley picked him up but, for a sick baby, he was otherwise on excellent behavior.
And speaking of excellent behavior: last night, Mike and I were prepared to keep him from napping before bed. We did’nt need to break out the espresso—the poor kid fell dead asleep at 9pm and stayed that way the whole night. WHEW.