St. Patrick's Day
Someone clued E in that leprechauns are supposed to hide treats or something all over the house on St. Patrick’s day, so he ran around looking and was quite disappointed to learn that his parents had no clue, because I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a thing when we were growing up.
I was actually impressed that I managed to pull anything together. Last year I think I went bigger, but it was because we were newly home and looking for anything to celebrate. This year some green glow sticks saved the day, though.
We also made some green cupcakes and I let E and G decorate them with sprinkles, which was a big hit. They were half for St. Patrick’s day, and half because I felt like marking our one year of quarantine with something. Cake makes everything better, right?
I think the warmer weather is starting to bring me out of hibernation a bit. I’ve been coming up with Easter crafts and planning a bit more, and we’re finally able to get outside. We even managed a nice safe outdoor masked visit with our best friends recently, and it was soul refreshing. It was like I could feel the hope coming, the opportunities for small bits of normalcy returning.
Of course the pregnancy delays our timeline a bit - some of my co-workers have started planning for a return to work this summer (on a trial and volunteer basis, not company wide), while I’ve told them I’ll see them in 2022. It feels weird to have that certainty, but also nice to be able to plan ONE thing.
E continues to understand a bit more about the baby, day by day. Last night before bed I was holding him, and he got a sudden panicked look on his face before asking if he was sitting on the baby. I laughed and said yes, and that when G was in my belly he used to kick E. He didn’t find that funny though (or remember it happening) and was a bit horrified. He told me when that happened that maybe he would have Tom hold him.. G continues his psychic tendencies and patted my belly a week ago and told me “hit baby” while he did it. Before we had talked about where the baby was, and before he’s acknowledged the baby really as existing somewhere. Yet he always seems to know.