Reid and I got back to Ottawa about 10:15 last night. She didn’t sleep a minute through the whole trip, not even when I was being as boring as I could possibly be. The problems with the train are:
the big windows revealing interesting countryside, especially for Reid who likes barns, animals, buses, and all manner of things, really;
the experience itself is novel and interesting; and
there is no “seatbelt” sign requiring that Reid stay in her seat.
Note that each of these problems were among the reasons I took the train up until 8:00 or so.
Reid was happy throughout and so I must acknowledge that I really am lucky. But I am tired, too. So tired in fact that I’m a wee bit silly.
I just saw a woman pushing an infant and the little girl (I’m just guessing, not to stereotype) was wearing tights. The first time Reid ever wore tights flashed into my mind and I grinned. When Reid was about weeks old, Grandma Barb organized a baby shower for Ken’s side of the family. We were at Grandmama’s apartment. When it was time for Reid and me to get our clothes on, I handed Reid’s dress and tights and went to change my own clothes, giving Grandmama a signal to watch as I went by. I was giggling in anticipation as I closed the bedroom door, leaving it open a bit so that I could hear the goings-on in the next room. Poor Ken! He started by trying to stick her jelly feet in and then pull the tights up. That approach doesn’t work if you’re dressing a cooperative 8 year let alone a baby but Ken, I’m happy to say, has no experience wearing tights himself. (Not that I’m opposed to men wearing tights generally, just my man in particular.) Once I was dressed, I enjoyed a quick look at Ken’s determined and flustered face before offering to help. I was probably laughing. I tried a bit but even together we weren’t up to the task. Fortunately for us, Grandmama suggested that Reid would be warm enough without the tights and I was able to back away from the challenge without (much) loss of face.