Monday, December 31, 2012

Saturday, December 29, 2012

December Gavinisms

On what I do at work:
Me: "What do you think I do at work all day?"
Gavin: "Pump."
Me: "Well, yes...but what do I do for my job?"
Gavin: "You prolly eat lunch."

During a shower with Daddy:
Gavin, to Ryan: "Why is your penis so big and fat?"
Ryan, stifling laughter: "Well, because I'm an adult. When you're an adult, yours will be bigger, too."
Gavin: "Yeah...mine's gonna be real big."

After seeing an ambulance drive by at night:
Gavin: "I don't know why there's a lot of ambliances in the world."
Me: " they can take people to the hospital if they get hurt."
Gavin: "Yeah...but I didn't know they could help people in the dark!"

Hearing part of "Deck the Halls" playing in another room:
Gavin, with surprised expression: "Boughs of holly!!"

At bedtime one night:
Gavin: "Mommy, I have a secret to tell you."
Me: "Oh yeah? What is it?"
Gavin: "I can't tell you."
Me: "Why not?"
Gavin: "Weeellll...if you want me to tell you, I'll have to give you a wet willy first."

Commenting on the birthday cake Grandma Clifford made for Jesus:
Cousin Brittany: "Do you like that cake?"
Gavin: "Yep. Grandma makes good Jesus cake."

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Nine Months: A Poem

When Gavin turned nine months old, I remember marking the occasion in my mind. Nine months inside, nine months outside. It seemed significant somehow. Bennett turned nine months old this week, and again, it feels heavy with meaning. Hence, this poem:

Nine Months
For My Boys
Into my body you burrowed—
a parasite that broke open
my hips, raised my blood
pressure, and stretched my ligaments
until I swelled ripe like a plum.
I couldn’t wait to be free.

The doctors cut you from me,
and I heard you squawk
before I saw you—
then a series of howls
that didn’t cease
until I held you skin to skin.

Now you’ve been outside
as long as you were in
and it’s you seeking freedom—
twisting your torso to deliver
yourself from my arms
and on to the floor…
            …crawling into independence.
Gavin at 9 months
Bennett at 9 months

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Crazy Christmas Blessings


We just finished our traditional month-long Christmas marathon of eleventy-thousand sides of family. We're exhausted. Turns out having two children at Christmastime multiplies the crazy a bit.

But we also discovered the blessings multiply as well. Sure, our eight-sides-of-family Christmas plans stress others out just hearing about them, but between the chaos and the crazy, there are bright little spots of joy shining through--and we're learning a little more every year to let those moments outshine the clutter.

It's little things like watching old home movies, or someone going out of their way to make a snack with no nuts, just for Gavin. And it's big things like seeing 18 people show up to a preschool Christmas program just for our little guy, or watching Bennett's eyes fill with wonder every time we turned on the Christmas lights.

It's crazy. It's exhausting. But it's more blessing than curse. And we can't imagine our Christmas any other way.

Merry Christmas from our family to yours!

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Santa Sucks (A Joyful Photo Memory)

Oh how I love Santa photos. It's like gambling, really. You're never quite sure if you'll score and get a great shot of both kids smiling, or if you'll hit the jackpot and get this:
As you can see, last year's joy and wonder has now turned into apathy for Gavin (He's so over Santa). And Bennett...well, he's a tad terrified.

I can't wait to see what our roll of the dice will bring next year.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

12 Words on 12-12-12

Remember wishing
when the clock struck

are those wishes

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Imaginary Friends

Oh, this child and his imagination.

For a few months now, Gavin's had some imaginary friends. Five imaginary friends actually, though lately, one has been sick and "at the hospital." He calls them "my army mens," and could care less how many times I try to explain that "men" is already plural and doesn't require an "s." Go figure.

Their individual names change while their collective "army mens" title stays consistent. I've heard Fred and Simbia (pronounced Sym-bee-ah) most often, but no matter what he calls them, they've become members of our everyday routine.

They're mostly "good guys" but in Gavin's own words: "Sometimes they like to be bad guys."

If we leave the house, his "army mens" have to follow us, usually in their "super-fast race cars." Sometimes they even beat us to our destination.

When we're eating, they sometimes need a place at the table, though it's ironically only one place (they must be the tiny, Toy-Story-sized army men).

If he gets into trouble, he'll often blame it on his fictitious friends, saying something like, " army mens say it's okay," or "But my army mens want to watch TV!"

When we read books before bed, I cannot just lie down anywhere...lest I unleash a tearful protest that I've "squished" his friends.

He's asked for some "real army mens" for Christmas.  You know..."the kind that talk like in Toy Story."  I have a feeling that a they're-just-pretend explanation might not work in this case. Wish me luck.

Monday, December 3, 2012

Twinkies--Part Two

Several months ago, I put up this post about my boys looking exactly alike. Time has not changed things, and I thought an update was past due.

Here they are in their blond-haired, blue-eyed alikeness. They'll never be able to deny they're brothers, that's for sure.

First smiles:

Sleepy close-ups:
 Goofy faces:

Toe-grabbing cuteness:

Bundled up tight with Daddy:

"I'll get you" crawling action: