On the street

Cooper is an engaging and cute kid- and I know I'm biased. But whenever we go anywhere, people stop us and talk to him, admire his gorgeous baby blues, and so on.

Yesterday at the farmer's market, Cooper spent at least an hour happily observing the world, snuggled into his fancy patagonia baby bunting, while riding in his cool framepack. I was stopped by several strangers who wanted to talk with Cooper, tell me how happy my little boy looked "up there," and so forth. I even had two separate people ask me where I got the cool baby bunting (Go Grandma G! Nice work.). For his part, Cooper waved his arms happily in the air, screeched exuberantly when dogs walked past (he is in love with all dogs), smiled at strangers, and attracted admirers from far and wide.

Then, he fell asleep in an awkwardly cute position in the pack. I took his napping as a sign that I should do some bonus socializing- so I wandered over to the other farmer's market (ran into three separate pairs of friends, said hi to the friend whose sells her uncle's pears, bought myself a hot apple cider) and then the craft market (talked with my friend that makes neat custom hats, admired some cool wool blankets, sipped my hot cider, ran into friends with a cute toddler). Cooper obliged me by sleeping for nearly an hour and a half in the pack while I enjoyed my fall morning outing. People would smile at the comatose limp baby in the pack, and lots of people mouthed "so cute!" to me as they walked by. I swear, the world loves a sleeping baby.

I was debating where to go next with my sleeping buddy (walk along the river? go shopping in the boutiques?) when he started to rustle and twitch himself back awake. He groggily began playing with my hair and I noticed his tiny fingers were chilly, so instead we went back to the car and headed home.

It is mornings like that which make me so glad we have a great kid. He's so much fun, so cute, and pretty flexible about stuff like napping in his pack, being poked by strangers, and new situations. He's even tolerant of getting cold hands and having a cold wind in his face- which is more than I can say for myself much of the time.