We've been gone for oodles! What, with the transatlantic travel and the major holiday and all, we've just not been good correspondents; I'm not sure how we'll catch up on all the news of Elliot's adventures and developments.
We'll eventually fill in some details. Let me just start by saying: Elliot did not himself do the transatlantic travel. He was not allowed to go with Brandon to Grandad Wally's funeral. Why, you ask? Why was Elliot not allowed to take advantage of this chance to see the British relatives, gathered together? Well. Because Elliot, being not quite three months old, does not have a passport. So he can't go to England, no matter how little a threat he seems to pose to national security.* England has an open door immigration policy, but evidently it does not extend to undocumented infants! No, it doesn't.
SO. Brandon and the rest of the Harveys went to England, and Elliot and I stayed home. And friends, my three days at home as a single mom convinced me that I'm glad I don't usually have to be a single mom. It's a lot of work. It is very demoralizing to never have two hands free at once.
The pinacle of my single-mom adventuring, for sure, was last Monday when I had to take Elliot on his first airplane ride all by myself. Me and Elliot and twenty-three burp rags, braving the thick of holiday travel at O'Hare airport! It was very thrilling, especially since in the 45 minutes before we had to leave for the airport Elliot urped on himself, and I am not exagerating, EIGHT TIMES. He urped on me, on the couch, and on his diaper. He urped in the bathwater and he urped immediately upon being taken out of the bathwater. He urped everywhere, and also he peed all over the changing table on which, yes, he had also urped. But fortunately Peter came over to take me to the airport and save me by holding Elliot so I could at least clean the urp off myself before bolting for the door.
Anyway, mentioning Peter-the-rescuer leads me to say that really, I didn't have such an awful time as a single mom because all these great people came to help me out. Sarah and Ed and Matt came to entertain on Friday**, and Kati and Kelley came on Saturday to spend the night and watch the dvd'd first season of Felicity and DO MY LAUNDRY, and then obviously Peter came on Monday to take me to the airport and Ken picked me up at the airport and then Jenny and Jason bought me dinner in Salt Lake. And that is not even counting the folks (kate, katy) who offered to entertain in chicago and the nice people in the airport who helped Elliot and I get through security.
Obviously, then, there is much to be thankful for around here: anytime you find yourself referring to the "nice people" employed at O'Hare, you know the world is looking out for you. But I haven't yet told you the reason I am MOST THANKFUL OF ALL! Here it is, as a teaser for the rest of our thanksgiving update: on Thursday, following a delicious turkey dinner, Elliot slept for seven hours.
It was so miraculous I can't properly convey my feelings on the subject. So let's just say that we here in the Mesle/Harvey household are full to brimming of holiday cheer, and promise to write more soon.
*Jason thinks maybe we could have taken him afterall, with just a birth certificate? Does anyone know about this? Regardless, we're applying for the passport anyway just for future emergencies. The instructions say that Elliot has to get an official passport photo taken that must be sure to "include the baby's face." Okay.
**Brandon actually was still here that night, but S/E/M didn't know he would be here when they offered to come over, so they still get full single-mom-sitting credit.