I took Jack to the doctor yesterday for his check-up. The doctor pronounced him "perfect,"* and then said, "Don't take him outside until spring." I thought he was joking and almost made a light-hearted remark in kind, when he added, "Except to bring him here, of course."
He was not joking. And obviously has no concept of the reality of the third child.
So this morning it was fifteen degrees with a stiff wind off the lake and intermittent snow. And was little Jack bundled up in his cozy house? No. He was at the preschool, because he has two older brothers who occasionally go places and I can't exactly leave the baby at home.
Jack was asleep when we pulled up in front of the church that houses the preschool. I had a blanket draped over his car seat, which of course promptly blew askew as I sprinted with the older two boys the thirty yards or so from the street to the door of the church. I heard one shocked cry from Jack as the cold air reached his exposed face, and then we were at the door and he was fine and back asleep.
I suppose I could get one of those covers that are made to go all the way over the car seat to prevent any cold air from reaching the baby, but then how would I toughen him for his admittedly chilly life ahead? Just don't tell my doctor. He's from India. I don't think he's reconciled himself to winter in upstate New York.
After we get into the church building, we have to go downstairs to the basement, which is where the preschool is actually located. So I hauled the car seat down, then back up, and Charlie and I repeated the race outside with the baby to get to the van. After I got the baby in the car, Charlie strapped in, and all the doors closed, I allowed myself a brief gasp of, "Holy shit
, this sucks," before getting in myself and driving home.
Good thing I only have to do this three days a week.
* For those who care (hi, Mom!), he's now ten pounds and still 22 inches.