Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Watch Bennett Grow--Seven Months Old

Unofficial Stats:
Weight: 20 lbs, 7 oz.
Height: 27 inches

October Gavinisms

During prayers one night:
Gavin, singing: "Thank you for my eyes, thank you for my toes, thank you for the garden, thank you for my head, thank you for my stinky feet, thank you for Target...I think that made God laugh."

Stalling before bed:
Me: "It's time to go to sleep.  No more talking."
Gavin:  "I love you, Mommy."
Me: "I love you, too, Buddy.  Now be quiet."
Gavin:  "I love you so much I'm gonna tell you twice."

After discussing all he'd done in a day:
Gavin, swiping his forehead: "My brain is worned out."

Thinking about Halloween:
Gavin: "Mommy, what are you going to be for Halloween?"
Me: "A Mommy."
Gavin, with arms out in front of him: "Mmmmmm..."
Me: "Not a mummy, buddy.  I'm just going to be a Mommy."
Gavin:  "Oh."

At bedtime one night:
Gavin: "Let's tell funny jokes."
Me: "Okay. You go first."
Gavin, giggling: "Ummmm....Poopyhead."
Me: "Sweetie, that's not a joke."
Gavin: "But it's funny."

Commenting on the static screen on the TV when we turned off the DVD player:
Gavin: "What's all this crap on the screen?"

Wednesday, October 24, 2012


I heard once that your first child makes you a mother and your subsequent children make you an expert. Well...that might just be true. Or at least that the mother's intuition thing is even keener the second time around.

For a week now, I've been saying I think Bennett is cutting his first tooth. He's been sleeping like crap, but still his usual happy self so I figured the odds were 50/50. I kept feeling his gums, probing for swelling and keeping my eye out for redness, but...nothing.

Until tonight. Sure enough, I felt the sharp, bumpy little ridges of his first tooth popping through. Congratulations, buddy. Now how about a little sleep before the next one makes its grand appearance?

"Screw this pureed crap. I'm ready for steak!"

Monday, October 22, 2012

In Which We Blow His Mind With Solid Food

So we tried solids for the first time last week. By "solids," I of course mean mushy, breast-milked-down infant oatmeal.

Bennett was not impressed. At first.
"What fresh hell is this?!  Give me the boob, woman." 

But then he leaned forward with his little bird mouth open and scarfed down bite after bite, shrieking when the bowl was empty.

Unsatisfied with my explanation that it was "all gone," he resorted to this:
"Mmmm.  Nom, nom, nom. I love you, oatmeal. Where have you been all my life?"
You thought that was tasty, kid?  Just wait until I rock your world with some pureed carrots.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Autumn Falls--A Poem

Autumn is undeniably my favorite time of year. The warm colors and comfy clothes, the crunch of leaves...the way it creeps in gradually so you don't really notice the change until it's too chilly to leave the house without that extra layer.

I. Love. Fall.  And also this poem:

Autumn Falls

We char filets wrapped with bacon
on hot coals one last time, and enjoy
some power over dead things to come.

Death pollutes the air, its fingers
curling around a honeybee, gripping
tighter, ending his drunken, lazy flight.

It exhales on maple leaves, wounding
their color and crisping their flesh
until they let go and drop to the ground,
protecting the seeds that lie below
and wait for spring.

One of my favorite photos from Russia.
A golden birch in front of the Christ the Savior Cathedral in Moscow.