Didn’t do too bad today. Got the gifts wrapped, ruined some gingerbread cookies, made some snickerdoodles, cleaned a bit. All-in-all, the todo list shrunk a reasonable amount.
The sleigh ride through Stanley Park was ok. Different. It was arranged through the Church. So, we were a horse-drawn wagon full of people singing Christmas carols. That might have seemed only festive if it weren’t for the sign advertising the parish on the back. That made it feel a little bit like evangelizing.
At any rate, Aidan seemed to enjoy it. It was a little cold, but he was bundled up in his fleece-suit (it’s definitely not a snow suit) and seemed to be ok. He watched the lights, people, cars, trees, and everything as it drifted by while the wagon sung (and reasonably on key as well). He didn’t seem too excited, but also seemed to enjoy it. Afterwards we put him in the backpack and took him through the Christmas Lights display that the firefighters put up near the miniature train. He also seemed to be enjoying those lights, but it was getting harder to tell … he was obviously pretty tired.
And, oh, got the car seat into the truck. Man, that’s a big beast. Complicated too. I probably spent a half hour or more reading through the installation guide and trying to maneuver all the straps and clasps and everything to set it up for rear-facing mode.
It’s quite a bit bigger than the infant seat. That makes it impossible to see him now when you’re in the driver’s seat. Conversely, he can’t crane around to look at the driver either. Needless to say, this makes him unhappy. I’ll be happy when he crosses that magic 12 month threshold when we can change the car seat to be front-facing (it’s really designed to be front-facing much more than rear-facing).
What is it about suddenly being 12 months old that you can sit forward, eat chocolate, peanut butter, and engage in all kinds of risky behaviour? Why the restriction at 11 months, 30 days, but not at 12 months?
Lies, damned lies, and statistics I guess.