Istra was so good today. Rachel came over and we walked down to Eglinton for lunch. We'd planned on Thai food but ended up going into a Japanese restaurant since The Friendly Thai was closed. It turned out for the best since the Japanese restaurant had some very private booths, which were great to shield both the other customers from my breastfeeding and me from the annoyed glares of the childless.
The childless didn't have anything to complain about, though. Istra just laid on the bench beside me and stared at the overhanging light, cooing and making smiley faces at Rachel. After our lunch of miso soup, green tea and various Japanese delights, we wrapped Istra back up and headed down the street to find someone to varnish Rachel's fingernails and slough the nearly rock-hard dead skin off my feet.
Yes, we were about to undertake a daunting task--Rachel and I were going to get manicures and pedicures with a baby in tow.
And we did. And much like our adventures in the Japanese restaurant, this too went off without a hitch. Istra slept through much of the procedure and when she did wake up she was in a remarkably easy-going mood. The only kink in our plan was that the place we ended up after all seemed to be slightly less professional than we would have liked; Rachel had to ask the girl to redo her French manicure three times and then finally just gave up after the girl tried to guilt trip her by telling her basically that she was not a machine and she couldn't ever get it perfect.
After this we again wrapped Istra up in the gypsy mama wrap and headed home. We stopped at Timothy's for strawberry smoothies and headed back to Marlee at a very leisurely pace. And still Istra took all this in stride, enjoying her snooze in the wrap.
And it probably would have been a gloriously peaceful, relaxing day for Miss Istra, had her mom not--at around 7:15pm--whacked her head off the arm of the rocking chair. Don't worry, grandmas, she's okay. She's just not that happy anymore.