This is Eliot, before he could walk. He hardly ever cries (when I'm around, anyway) and he's a very quiet baby.
At the Blackstone's house, Jenicka made her sweet meatloaf for dinner again with peas, carrots and onions. Joy Anna drank about three cups of milk, and Jeramiah was given half a cup after an entire meal of begging. The kids got hurt a lot: Eliot began walking just a few days before I got there, and he fell into the kitchen chair and hurt his arm; Jeramiah was jumping on the bed and fell off; and I was flying the remote-controlled helicopter when it went into Joy Anna's eye. It was a night of accidents.
After the kids went to bed, us adults ate mint chocolate chip ice cream and watched "Emma" on a TV which they brought out into the living room. I hadn't realized they even owned one. "Some people have TVs, others don't," Alex said, "You don't have to live without a TV, we just choose not to watch it all the time." The kids haven't seen most of the classics. "They're very sensitive," Alex said, mentioning a movie that Jeramiah sometimes still has nightmares about.
Jenicka sews skirts for herself and Joy Anna. She makes them out of pants and sews patterns between the legs; the ones on her skirts are usually darker, but Joy Anna's are sometimes bright and full of patterns. They look cool; I wish I'd taken pictures.
In the morning I wore my brown skirt and a button down shirt. Jerimiah stared at me and said, "You look pretty Alita." I went with them to church. As we were getting out of our respective vehicles, I noticed that other families also had three kids; and they also had two boys and a girl. "Does Shelley have two boys and a girl too?" I asked, and Jenicka said yes.
"But some have two girls and a boy," she said.
"But most have three kids?"
The church was small. The morning began with songs. I can never understand how to sing church songs; the melody just doesn't make any sense to me. At communion, a cracker and a tiny cup of grape juice were handed out to each member; no wine for this church. The pastor started talking about love and how love is god and god is love, and you can't love without god. I got agitated real fast; so if I don't believe in god, then I can't love someone? Can't god's love exist, even if I don't believe in him? Is my love false? Is a Christian's love somehow more real than mine?
I went downstairs to hang out with the kids instead. I love Eliot. He is adorable. He smiles all the time, and now that he walks he's extra fun. I got hugs and left in a hurry because I didn't want to get to Ohio too late; it was a seven hour drive, and already almost noon.