Elijah, Not Halije

I worry sometimes that I am not accurately portraying Elijah in the blog. After reading the last few weeks’ entries, you can assume we have a nightmare child on our hands. A future Dennis the Menace slash Bart Simpson slash Calvin And Hobbes Calvin.

Lemmie clue you in on a secret. Writing about cute, nice, happy Eli is b-o-r-i-n-g. Stories that involve the Hulk-like destruction of our lives seem to make for better reading. I believe it was Mark Twain who said, “The secret source of humor is not joy, but sorrow. There is no humor in heaven.” I also believe it was Wikipedia, and not me who remembered that quote.

But it simply isn’t a good representation of our lives.

Take last Saturday. Elijah played quietly (yawn), ate his lunch (snore) said about 1,000 impossibly cute things (sleepy time station) and took a nap without incident (nappy nap nap).

What makes for a delightful, blood pressure dropping weekend makes for dull reading.

So sorry gang, I don’t have much to report. And I am damned glad of it.

I spoke too soon. Di called and said Halije is back. Our son refused to nap and made Diana’s life a living hell this afternoon only to fall asleep the moment she put him into his car seat for an important errand.

Hooray!