As some of you know, I have been looking for a ball for Ezra. I’d like it to be bigger than a choking hazard, smaller than a regulation soccer ball. Not too hard, not too soft. Rollable. Throwable. Catchable. Rather — how shall we say? — ball-like. This may sound simple, but in the dozens of aisles of toys at our local Target, there was no straight-up kid-sized ball. I did find one ball: it had flashing lights and music and buttons and lessons in colors and numbers. But I want my ball to focus on Just Being a Ball. I will keep looking. I am hopeful.
I know you’re out there, ball!
This past weekend we had a great time attending a wedding and visiting friends in Pittsburgh. We got to celebrate the beginning of a wonderful new marriage and see old friends from near and far. It was wonderful. Ezra endured the car trip, was mostly polite during the wedding, slept through the reception and enjoyed meeting his new buddy, Finn, and seeing his godfather and other adult friends.
And, extra special bonus: he got to play with a ball. (You’ll see just how extra special this was in a moment.) Finn was nice enough to let Ezra play with a ball at his house. We played catch.
And Ezra … well, I guess you could say he had a ball.