Autumn in August?

The first cold front of autumn came through this week, and yesterday felt noticeably different. It wasn't really any cooler outside, but the dry air made it seem less oppressive. I could even look out the window to see the sky looked different--something about its exact shade of blue. It had the distinct feel of early fall.

I never really think about how much I look forward to fall until it hits. Then sudden nostalgia hits with it. I'm thrust back into the days of football games every weekend, college classes and homework, even leaving my classroom on a cool, crisp Friday afternoon with a box of papers to grade over the weekend while watching college football in the background. (Remember those days, Cathy?) I never thought I'd ache for those days, but every year I do--and it hits me with such unexpectedness that it practically knocks me breathless.

And this year is no different, at least with the unexpectedness of it. But I have a new memory to add to my list. Last year on the weekend of the first major cold front, I became a mother. I'd forgotten all about that until yesterday. I felt the difference in the air and found myself reliving that day: the walk into the hospital, remarking on the coolness in the air as I stumbled in my maternity jeans that were just a bit too long and I'd avoided wearing until it was absolutely necessary. Despite the underlying panic I still refuse to admit I felt that day, the nostalgia I feel about it is a good one, if that's possible. Sure I wish I could go back and do some things differently, but I see the end product and remember that as one of the happiest days of my life, even if it didn't go as planned.
Looking at that face reminds me it was totally worth it. I have no reason to feel nostalgia at all, at least about that day last year, because I have something better now; each day with Patrick just gets better and better.

And that's the end of that topic. (Hee-hee. Get it? The end!)

In other news, Patrick was in the weirdest mood last night before bed. He hadn't napped well all day, and Matt and I suspect he was tired to the point of being giddy. He kept laughing and laughing at the silliest things. All I had to do was reach for him and I got a full-blown belly laugh. Check out the video:

And then he started playing with his tongue in between laughing spurts. He started sticking it out of the corner of his mouth like this:

Matt also got some video of that tongue (sorry the videos are so dark):

And he got some video of Patrick spitting and doing the tongue thing. It really was a riot. We hated to put him to bed, even though it was long past time.