jail break!

The most momentous event of the weekend began quietly, with a failed nap. We'd gone out Saturday morning, went to a few garage sales, stopped by to say hi to some friends, ate lunch, and by the time we went home Zoe was tired enough to sleep in the car. Then, naturally, she didn't want to nap. I put her in the crib anyway, ignoring her complaints, hoping she'd drop off in a few minutes. She settled down for a bit, then started muttering again. I ignored her some more. She started calling my name. But not with desperation, just mild irritation. I ignored her some more. Then there were some odd noises, like the crib was being shaken, and suddenly her voice was a lot louder, and what exactly was she pounding on, anyway? I got up to investigate. Zoe had exited her crib. Only that devilishly difficult door knob lies between her and total freedom.

Or to put it another way, we are in so much trouble. I got to watch her pull it off the next morning; she waited for me to come in the room,  but not for me to lift her out. It's a neat trick, and not one Nick ever mastered. So we've cleared potential hazards from beside the crib, and I suppose now we'll have to go out and buy her a big-girl bed. <Sigh> I'm not ready to move my baby out of her crib. She's not supposed to grow up until I tell her to!

Other than that, well, it was a nice weekend. We set up all our Halloween, auntumn, and Thanksgiving decorations, Nick's enthusiasm being hard to contain. It rained. Our church graduated its first Roots and Wings class, which is basically a catechism class for Unitarians. And I could talk about how what an interesting idea that is, and the kinds of things they did, and how Nick is excited about doing the class next time they offer it because he'll be old enough then...but honestly, I've known most of these kids since they were toddlers, and it was hard for me to think about anything except how adorably grown-up they looked, all dressed up in their better-than-Sunday best.