Gavinisms & Bennettisms

These silly phrases are coming fewer and further between now, but I wanted to make sure I captured these things overheard over the last several months:

Bennett, on the moon's appearance:
"Look! A full moon! The moon musta had a big lunch today."

Bennett, on his favorite pastry:
"I love my muffin top."

Mixing up meanings:
Mommy: "Bennett, what are you doing?"
Bennett: "Anything."

Gavin, on the best job in the world:
"Nobody has a better job than kids. Learning is fun!"

Even superheroes have to take potty breaks:
Gavin: "If Flash came in here and went potty it would be like [snap] BOOM!"

After a zoo visit:
Gavin: "Bennett should be with the wild animals cuz he stomps so loud."

On a mole's appearance:
Gavin: "I have an x on my mole. I must have treasure in me!"

Brotherly love:
Bennett to Mommy: "You never give me special treats."
Gavin to Bennett: "Well, I guess you'll just have to live on your own."

On bug bites:
Gavin: "Daddy said I might turn into Spiderman because of my spider bite."
Bennett: "Uh-oh, then we won't have a brudder."

Profound, no?:
Bennett: "When I get bigger, I'm gonna grow up!"

Bennett, on running errands:
"We went to the piggy bank today and I got a sucker!"

On technology:
Gavin: "Mommy, you said you'd teach me how to tweet."
Bennett: "This is how you tweet: 'tweet tweet.'"

On family planning:
Ryan to Gavin: "How many kids do you think you'll have?"
Gavin: "Prolly two. No three. Cuz I'm taking Bennett. He's my brother and I love him."

On baseball attire:
Bennett, putting on a baseball hat: "Look at me! I'm a vampire!"
Gavin: "You mean umpire?"

Answering questions:
Mommy: "Did you have a good day at school?"
Gavin: [Makes fart sound with mouth] "That means 'yes' in farts."

Silly car conversations:
Bennett: [giggles]
Mommy: "What are you laughing at?"
Bennett" "The trees."
Mommy: "Why?"
Bennett: "Because they're just standing there!"

Things I Said This Week

There are things I never thought I'd hear myself say...and then parenting happens. And so do these phrases:


Put the swords down and get some pants on.

Please don't throw Yoda at your brother anymore.

Licking your shoe is not funny.

It's not nice to pee on your brother.

Don't put your butt in my face until you get some underwear on.

Floss is for teeth...not toes.


These sweet, cherub-faced boys made me say every single one. That's right. Don't let them fool you.

Latest "Boyisms"

These boys...they are so silly. Here's a flavor of our past few months:

Gavin, while pulling the tops off strawberries:
"I'm a twist grinder!"

While riding in the car:
Gavin: "Daddy's car smells like butt."
Bennett: "Dat Bubby."

Affirmations of love:
Gavin: "Mommy...I love you through your bones."

On misbehaving on the playground:
Gavin: "It's okay, Mommy. No teachers saw me—I watched out."

During the Royals' World Series marathon of TV watching:
Gavin: "Guess what. I'm super creepy Rob Lowe."

While towel-drying after a bath:
Bennett: "Don't rub it off. Dat my skin."

After passing a police car on the highway:
Bennett: "Dat a poweece car."
Me: "What do the police do?"
Bennett: "Dey help people up when dey fall down."

Singing Christmas carols in the car:
Bennett: "Woodolf the wed-nosed snowman!"

On Elf on the Shelf:
Bennett: "Don't touch his hat! It make the magic fall off!"

First Day of Kindergarten

This guy:

It's his very first day of big kid school.

Somehow I thought the backpacks and lunch-packing and parent-teacher-conferences from preschool would make this day easier. Like all those things would ease me into the big step he's taking today.

But then the clichés start to take over and you're wondering how it's possible that the baby you rocked to sleep yesterday (it was yesterday, right?!) is the big kid standing at the bus stop today.

You notice how little he is carrying that giant backpack and you wonder if he's going to remember where he's supposed to go to be picked up after school because he's only five for goodness sake!

But then the pangs of nervousness you've seen run across his face start to morph into a bright, excited smile, and before you know it, you're walking out the door of his classroom and he doesn't even glance at you as you leave because he's a big kid now.

He's gonna rock this Kindergarten thing!

Summer Gavinisms...and a little Bennettism, too.

On the way home from his latest taekwondo belt test:
Me: "I'm so proud of you, buddy!"
Gavin: "{Sigh} It feels good to be a green belt."

On his smarts:
Me: "Gavin, that was clever. Where'd you learn to do that?
Gavin: "In my brain."

Mild threatening of his little brother:
Gavin: "Bennett, I can read your mind all the time."

Complimenting Mommy:
Gavin: "You're creative, Mommy."
Me: "Thank you. What does being creative mean?"
Gavin: "It's being wonderful!"

Brothers being silly:
Gavin: "Bennett...are we brothers? Say yes."
Bennett: "Yes."
Gavin: "Are we best friends? Say yes."
Bennett: "YES!!"

Our argumentative little one:
Ryan to Bennett: "Thank you, Bennett. You're so polite."
Bennett: "No...I not."

Gavinisms

On MLK Day:
Gavin: "Momma, Martin Luther Kingdom said we should love each other."

Early morning happiness:
Gavin: "Mommy, can you dress up today so I can tell you you look pretty?"

Opening the refrigerator to put away his drink:
Gavin, while butt-shaking: "I'm gonna do a little jig to put away my milk."

After a spring snow:
Gavin: "Mommy, does God knows it's spring?"
Me: "I'm sure he does, buddy. Why do you ask?"
Gavin: "I'm gonna tell him it's not 'posed to snow when it's spring. Do you think he'll be mad at me?"

Typical 5-year-old humor:
From a CD: "Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...life is but a dream."
Gavin: "[giggle] They said butt."

After throwing a fit when he didn't get his way:
Me: "Gavin, I can't hear you when you whine. Make your voice sound like mine."
Gavin: "I can't make my voice sound like yours. I'm a man."

After Bennett made a giant mess while eating a cookie:
Me: "Bennett, that's quite a mess you made there."
Bennett: "Ya."
Gavin: "He's being creative."

Finally Five

Gavin turned a whole handful of fingers today, waving his hand at me this morning saying, "I'm five!" as he dashed past me like the years have, full of energy and determination—growing and changing faster than I can say, "Slow down!" Faster than I can catalog here.

Not long ago, he told me he thought he'd skip five and move right on to six, but today, it seems as if five fits him well. So well, in fact, that he said he felt taller today and asked that I measure him to see if he'd reached the five-foot mark. Five is a big deal.

Five feels like the intersection of little boy and big kid, where there are still snuggles before bed, but also a whole lot of "I can do it myself." Lots hand-holding and extra hugs, but also "no more kisses, Momma."

He's so many things at five. So much of the sweet, gentle, cautious boy we've always known, but slowly, new branches are shooting out of his personality to reveal other sides, too. Smart. Funny. Stubborn. Goofy. Brave.

At five, he's struggling with growing up, and anxious about new things and new people. He reaches out to us constantly for support, and we're trying to be there consistently while still pushing him forward into independence a little at a time.

At five, he writes confidently as long as you spell the words for him. I hear him sounding out words, and though he's not reading yet, I know it's not far off. My favorite take-homes from daycare these days are love notes with all the letters running together.

At five, he's a master builder in Lego terms, and quick when it comes to puzzles. He pieces things together with a part of his brain that definitely didn't come from me. He's analytical, and good at basic addition.

At five, he is full of magic and wonder and innocence with a heap independence on the side, and I am so very glad he's mine.

A Letter to My Boys

Gavin,
You, my tallish, lanky boy, are growing by the day it seems. The pants I bought you in early fall are now high-waters, and your feet are almost growing through the ends of your shoes. I'm afraid all the clothes I wanted to repurpose that were slightly too big last summer are now going to be too small by the time summer rolls around this year.

You're also getting smarter all the time and routinely come home telling me facts beyond your years. They're always posed as questions, like: "Momma, did you know Georges Seurat painted dots?" or "Did you know Orca whales have a nickname? Killer whales!" I'm loving that you're getting swept up in learning, and frankly, I'm learning some new things along with you. I'm guessing this is just the beginning of that. You're so, so good at math and puzzles and have already mastered some basic addition and how to put together the 5-12 age Lego kits by yourself.

Lately, you've been sporting a new, longer hairstyle and seem to really like it. It makes you look so grown-up, but it's already driving me nuts when it's in your eyes. Since you've got the straight-as-a-board hair that I had growing up, there are some gel tricks we're having to use to keep it out of your eyes as it grows. You love it though, and so do I, so I see it sticking around for a while.

You've been taking taekwondo classes for three-ish months now, and love it. You're actually getting pretty good at it and can even count to seven in Korean! You had a belt test a couple weeks ago and though you struggled with some anxieties about the multitude of people there to watch the test, you overcame your fear because you were determined to get that belt. You even got to break a board at the end of the test and have been showing it off ever since.

Speaking of anxieties, you've started fearing anything new lately, sometimes even in situations that you're familiar with. You've gotten clingier at daycare drop-off and have had this crippling fear come over you the last few times we've been to taekwondo, but you can't really articulate why, other than to say you're "scared," or "there are new kids." It's gotten bad enough that you can't even complete the class, but we're working hard to help you through it. Part of me wishes it was just that you didn't like taekwondo anymore, because watching you be so excited about going, and then be so overcome with fear that you can't participate—that's hard. Really hard. It breaks my heart, but we're trying hard to help you get through it and grow from it.

Lately, you've been more of a Momma's boy than ever, and I am loving every second. Since you were a baby, you've always preferred Daddy, and to be honest, it's broken my heart a tiny bit. But friends who told me that would change have been proven right because the tide seems to be shifting in my favor. The other night you actually said it, verbatim: "Momma, Bennett is a Daddy's boy and I'm a Momma's boy." So...there you have it. [Squeals with delight!]

Well, my big kid, that can't possibly sum up your last few months, but it's definitely the biggest happenings. I'm so very proud of you!

I love you more,
Momma



Bennett,
You are my continuously ornery, sweet, spunky little dude and you remind me daily how much you are like me. Every time I see your stubborn face, or hear you shout "No!" I have to remind myself that I was probably juuuust like you as a toddler.

You're continuing to impress with your physical abilities, which now include jumping all the way off the ground, climbing the outside of the stairs, and getting to places only your brother could reach a short month ago.

You're also talking more and more, and your vocabulary is starting to explode because you repeat everything you hear. "Yellow" is our current favorite because you ignore the "Ls" altogether and just saw, "Yeh-yo." You also point to objects and repeat the words over and over again until we say, yes, buddy, that is Daddy's robe (Dadee wobe), or a yellow bus (yeh-yo bushh), or whatever else it is you're pointing at. The way you say your name is also equally adorable because you say it so quickly that you somehow morph it into just one syllable. I'm trying to get it on video because I know it won't be long before that changes, too.

For Christmas, you got some new bath toys that are just foam letters and numbers that stick to the wall, and they've quickly become a favorite in the shower with Daddy. You've been playing with them so much that you even recognize certain letters as belonging to one of our names. "Bubba!" you'll say, and point to the letter "G" (you never call him Gavin, though you recognize it as his name), or "Momma!" when you point to the letter "M." It's impressive for a not-quite-two-year-old!

I feel compelled (again) to write about your obsessive love for bananas. It's gotten so bad we have to hide them from you now. If you could, you'd eat three or four in a single sitting and then not be able to poop for days. I really don't think you'd even care. Every time we do allow a banana, or something banana-flavored, like yogurt, you jump up and down and shriek "Nana!" excitedly like you're part monkey or something.

You're growing and changing so much lately that I can't wait to see what the next few months bring for you, little man.

I love you more,
Momma

Winter Gavinisms

After picking up a toy to play:

Bennett: "MINE!"

Gavin: "I'll give it back cuz I'm your best brother."

In the car:

Gavin: "Momma, can I have something to play with? I'm boring."

Another day in the car after daycare:

Me: "What did you do in Miss Stephanie's class today?"

Gavin: "Read my mind, Momma."

Finding an unexpected ladybug in the house:

Gavin: "Look, Momma! A July bug!"

Listening to Bennett mumbling in the car:

Gavin: "Was that a whole story or a half story? I'm confused."

Dealing with Bennett's habit of taking off his socks and shoes in the car:

Gavin, to me: "Momma...Bennett's licking his toes."

Gavin, to Bennett: "I'm never gonna do what you do."

And a first Bennettism:

Gavin: "Oh, brother!"

Bennett: "Oh, bubba!"

[giggles from all involved]

September Gavinisms

Passing by someone walking on the street:
Gavin: "Who is that, Momma?"
Me: "Our neighbor up the street."
Gavin: "I don't know his name so I'm just gonna call him dude."

After church one Sunday:
Gavin: "It's a good day for a donut."

In the car on the way to daycare:
Gavin: "Momma, can you sing me a song?"
Me: "Sure...what song do you want me to sing?"
Gavin: "That one you sang when I was a baby."
Me: [sings song]..."do you remember that song?"
Gavin: "I don't remember the words, but I'm singing it in my heart right now."

Referring to our worship center, which is darker than the sanctuary at church:
Gavin: "When I grow up, I'm gonna play drums in the dark church."

Big Fat Fail

For most of Gavin's life, we've lived as if peanuts were poison. For him, they always have been. The first time he ate peanuts, this happened:

He'd just turned one, and we were trying out some peanut butter for the first time. Unfortunately, this didn't happen until 16 hours after he'd eaten a tablespoon of peanut butter, so when we took him to urgent care, the doctor said it couldn't possibly be a peanut allergy. (Note: Hindsight taught us that we know our child better than any doctor. Grrr.)

Several months later after an overnight at my parent's house, he had peanut butter on a waffle for breakfast, and when I went to pick him up after church, my mom said he'd been complaining about his ears itching. As soon as I'd heard he'd had peanut butter again, I knew immediately that he was having a reaction. I rushed him to Children's Mercy, and by the time we got there, the left side of his face was so swollen that he couldn't open his eye. Scariest car ride of my life, by the way. Every time I looked back at him, he looked worse, and I was terrified I wasn't going to make it to the hospital before his throat closed up.

The nurse practically jumped over the desk to listen to his breathing when she saw him, and took us straight back into a room where doctors pumped him full of antihistamines and stopped the reaction, thank God.

From that point on, we've been a label-checking, epi-pen-carrying, online-researching, peanut-free household, and I've lived with a quiet, constant worry about Gavin being accidentally exposed to peanuts again. He's a child, after all, and we can't expect him, and everyone he comes in contact with to have the same heightened sensitivity as we do. I certainly didn't know what to look for on a food label or which restaurants fry their food in peanut oil before he became allergic. It's something we've had to grow into as a family, and something we've had to ingrain in him. He's gotten so good at asking, "Does that have peanuts in it?" when someone offers him food, and I'm incredibly proud of him for it, but still...that constant, nagging worry persisted.

So this year, when blood tests came back that the antibodies in his blood had decreased steadily every year, and his allergist suggested doing a peanut butter challenge in the office, I was equal parts nervousness and excitement. The day came and he was a champ. The nurse fed him gradually increasing amounts of peanut butter while we watched movies and played on the iPad. Little by little he ate it and nothing happened, and little by little, I got my hopes up that maybe, just maybe he'd have a different life...one where he didn't have to worry about measly little peanut proteins.

But then I saw a little red splotch right below his lip and noticed him scratching his bottom lip with his teeth, and those hopes crumbled. He told the nurse his lips and tongue were "itchy" and the test was stopped immediately. His reaction was mild enough this time that he only had to take an oral dose of antihistamine to stop it, which was a relief, but I don't think it was until that moment that I realized how badly I just wanted it to be over. His peanut allergy. The constant worry. All of it. Though he remained oblivious, I was heartbroken. For him. For me. For the easier future I'd started to imagine for all of us.

So now we go back to the world we've known with our hopes a little shaken, but not abandoned. He still has a chance to grow out of this, and that is our constant prayer. That, and the grateful prayer of thanks we give for a generally happy, healthy, smart, strong, and incredibly awesome kiddo.

A Love Letter From a Proud Pre-K Momma

Gavin,
You went to bed a big Pre-K kid last night, and your Daddy and I cried huge tears of pride for the little person you're becoming. You see...we already know your good heart, your kind nature, and your genuine concern for others. We get to see it all the time, but occasionally, we get to hear how that part of you shines even when we're not watching.

Yesterday morning, we walked into your new class and a little girl was sitting at a table quietly crying, with one of your teachers trying to soothe her fears. It was her first day, and she knew no one, unlike you, who galloped into the room and immediately saw several faces you knew and loved. I asked her name and called you over to introduce the two of you. I was this close to saying, "Why don't you help her feel better?" but you were off to the next thing after saying "hi" and I was in a hurry to get to work.

When I came to pick you up last night, you came running as usual, and I noticed the smile you gave to the same little girl, who was still obviously nervous and cautious about this whole Pre-K thing, clinging to the teacher until her parents picked her up. Your teacher piped up then, and said, "Gavin was a good friend today," and then proceeded to tell me how you'd patted the little girl's back when she cried and tried to make her feel more at home in her new classroom.

My cup overflowed in that moment, buddy...Because you were kind. Because I didn't have to tell you to be kind. Because you looked outside yourself to help someone you didn't even know. Because you weren't selfish. For so many reasons, my heart blew wide open with pride for you.

I'm so honored to be your Momma every day, buddy, but yesterday, you reminded me of one of the many reasons why.

I love you more,
Momma

Summer Gavinisms

Wise words that include the word "butt":
Gavin: "It's not good if you lose your butt."
Me: "Oh, really?"
Gavin: "Ya...cuz then you can't poop."

A hero in the making:
Gavin: "If Bennett tries to go in the street, I'll trap him. Cuz I'm a big brother and that's what big brothers do."

Still a Daddy's boy:
Gavin: "You're a great dude, Daddy."

Thinking about his future form of employment:
Gavin: "I want to go to work with you, Momma."
Me: "Well...maybe you can come with me one day when you're bigger."
Gavin: "No, I want to come every day."
Me: "Well, when you get bigger, maybe you can work at Hallmark, too."
Gavin: "How big are your workers?"
Me: "At least 22."
Gavin: "Awww, man!"

Randomness from the back of the car:
Gavin: "I wish I was Batman."

Dancing around while eating frozen yogurt after dinner:
Me: "I love your dancing."
Gavin: "Ya...I should be on a TV show."

Picking up after a game one night:
Me: "How do we always forget one piece?"
Gavin: "Maybe cuz we don't have good brains."

Wishful thinking:
Gavin: "I wish I could swim in chocolate milk. I'd swim with my mouth open and drink it all up!"

Tell Me a Story

Gavin's nightly routine has been the same since he was only a few days old. Put on jammies, read books, sing songs, go to bed.

Reading with Daddy as a 15-month-old.

Almost four and a half years passed with that same routine, until vacation this year, when all of a sudden he grew out of songs and started asking for stories instead. At first, I thought he meant more books, but soon realized he wanted us to tell him a story. One that we'd made up. From scratch.

I mourned the loss of song in our routine only briefly because MY BOY LOVES STORIES! And, and, and...he's so going to be a word nerd like his Momma. I just know it. [squeals with delight]

He routinely gives us a subject now that we must follow, no matter how goofy it may be. The other day, he asked for "a story where monkeys fart" because of course he did.

Even with the goofiness, I'm loving indulging this new little fascination of his and I'm not-so-secretly hoping (obviously) that it sparks a lifetime love of storytelling.

Gavinisms: Vacation Edition

After seeing his Great-Grandfather Cohoon being served a disgusting-looking vitamin drink by his Great-Grandmother Cohoon:
Gavin: "What is that Granddad?"
Granddad: "It's a vegetable drink. Try it. It'll make your hair curl."
Gavin: "I like my hair straight."

Trying to understand the Skywheel on the Myrtle Beach boardwalk:
Me: "It's a ferris wheel with cars that are closed, kind of like a little room just for our family."
Gavin: "I'm wanna take my clothes off on the Skywheel."
Me: "Well, it's glass, buddy, so everybody can see you. It's like a glass room. It's still public."
Gavin: "Oh."

Taking a walk on a beautiful, breezy day:
Gavin, before we left: "I don't want to wear a shirt."
Me: "That's fine, buddy."
Gavin, on the walk: "Momma, you should take your shirt off so you can feel the breeze. It's nice outside."

In our "glass room" on the Skywheel--clothes required.

A Letter to My Boys

Boys,
Your Momma has been stressed, and busy, and has completely disregarded this blog lately, which means your monthly letters have unfortunately been put on the back burner as well. Sorry for that. But, as I've said before, I would much rather be spending time with the both of you than writing about it, and so when my free time dwindled down these past few months, what time I did have was spent with you, and your Daddy, and I will never apologize for that. Also, the older you two get, the less need I feel for monthly updates, so these might morph into more "big news" kind of updates instead. So...here are your big headlines for the last few months...

Gavin,
Every time I look at you I keep wondering if you've grown overnight. You are just so much taller now, and your baby face has thinned out so much that people don't even think you have your Momma's cheeks anymore. The taller you get, the braver and more confident you get as well--inviting neighbors over to play, bodyboarding in the ocean, etc., etc.

Your first catch of the season!

You've grown a bit more defiant in that confidence as well, which has surprised me coming from my generally reserved and fairly compliant little man. It goes in spurts, really, like you're testing us or something. I hope we're passing. :)

With every little bit you grow and change, you still insist on stories and cuddles at bedtime, and I hope that sweet little part of you doesn't change for many, many months to come. Your sweetness is also still evident in your relationship with Bennett. You're so, SO good at sharing with him, and genuinely feel bad if you accidentally hurt him. You adore him, and I love that you're your sweetest with him.

You start Pre-K in just a few short weeks, and I cannot believe it's your last year at WeCare. It feels like a blink ago I was stressed about you not taking a bottle from a stranger, and this will be your fourth classroom since then. You're so very excited about your new class, and going back to school, though, that I can't be melancholy about the passing years too long--there's just too much more to experience with you in the coming years.

I've missed you so much this summer as I've left for work every day while you, Daddy and Bennett get to stay home. The one fabulous thing about it is the greeting I get every day when I come home, though. There is nothing quite like seeing you waving at the garage door as soon as I pull my car in, and the "Come play with me, Mommas" I get before I even turn off the car.

Keep being your awesome self, kiddo.
I love you more,
Momma


Bennett,
Child, you are a feisty one, and I have to admit how much I love it. While you're so laid back when it comes to certain things, your spunk definitely comes out when you want to get your point across. You're saying a few words, but mostly, you're signing what you want, or expecting us to read your mind (quickly) to figure things out. You say, "Uh-oh, mama, dada, daisy, bye-bye, all done and ya-ya (Gavin), but that's pretty much the extent of your spoken vocabulary so far, besides animal sounds, which you're picking up pretty quickly. Every new animal is a dog at first, but you've slowly starting realizing they all make different sounds. Your roar is my particular favorite, which is almost more shout-like every time you see a dinosaur. Adorable. You understand 10 times your spoken vocabulary, and answer questions with the shake of your head for "no" or "yes" (though it's mostly "no" because you're a toddler, so of course it is).

You're very into reading books now, and I love that you're starting to love them as much as your brother. Your favorites right now are Old Hat, New Hat, Brown Bear, Brown Bear, and That's Not My Monkey, all of which you request on a nightly basis. My attempts at throwing in a newbie seem to be working more often lately, thank God, because I don't even need to look at the others to read them anymore.

You graduated from feeding yourself with your fingers months ago and now use a fork and spoon pretty well. You also skipped right past traditional sippy cups and prefer cups with straws instead. The bath is also almost a thing of the past, as you and Gavin and Daddy prefer showers together.

Just recently you've started freely giving hugs and kisses whenever you're asked, and it melts me into a puddle every time. I particularly like to ask you when you're all the way across a room, because you'll pucker your lips and walk allll the way over with your chin in the air, just waiting to plant that kiss with a "mwah!" sound.

You're still fearless when it comes to climbing, or whatever other semi-dangerous thing you see your big brother doing. You follow suit immediately, and your motor skills constantly astound me.

Climbing over the couch to find a lost binkie.

You're growing so fast that I feel bad I haven't updated your happenings here, but I promise they're well-documented in photos and videos.

I love you more,
Momma

May Gavinisms

Reminiscing about a movie he's never seen:
Gavin: "Mommy, I like Dark Bader."
Me: "Why do you like Darth Vader?"
Gavin: "Because he's just so bad."

Being dramatic in the car:
Gavin: "My tummy feels throwed up."
Me: "Are you ok?"
Gavin: "No."
0.0005 seconds after saying no: "Look, Mommy! Spiderman!"

A Shy Guy First

Last night, while playing outside on the Best. Playground. Ever. (see 2-year-old picture above for proof), Gavin noticed the neighbor boys peeking over the fence from their backyard.

"Maybe they want to play, Mommy," he said. "Let's ask them."

"Great idea, buddy!" I said, oozing with pride over my generally shy guy. "Go over and ask if they'd like to come over."

"Will you come with me?" he asked, a little more apprehensive this time.

"You can do it," I said, coaxing him toward the fence. "I'll be right here."

Before he even reached the fence, our youngest neighbor, Royce, yelled over, asking if he and his brother Carlton could come over and play. Gavin responded with an excited "Ya!" and ran back to me with a grin that split his face wide open. He was ecstatic, and spent the next hour playing soccer, taking turns on the swings, and playing chase.

And if the evening wasn't already stereotypically "boys from the neighborhood hanging out," they also chased, caught and then proceeded to bathe a toad. Boys, right?

I was so proud of my shy guy, and reminded that even though my heart aches every time I realize how fast he's growing, it swells to see him maturing into such a sweet, confident kid.

April Gavinisms

Trying to make his brother laugh:
Gavin: "I'm gonna confuse Bennett."
Me: "What do you mean?"
Gavin: "Momma, confuse is another word for joking."

Talking about Ryan's weekend at the farm:
Me: "Turn off the TV, please. You need to spend some quality time with Daddy because he's going to be gone all weekend."
Gavin: "Even if he ate beans?"

Talking about fear:
Gavin: "Mommy, I'm scared of thunder."
Me: "I know, buddy. What can we do when we're scared?"
Gavin: "Pray...like Daniel did when he was with the lions."
Me: "That's a great thing to do when you're scared."
Gavin, in his poutiest, most disappointed voice: "I never get throwed in a lion's den. I'm just scared of thunder."

A Letter to My Boys

Boys,
I got so caught up in my Lenten Challenge blog posts that I didn't write your usual letter last month. I did keep track of all you'd been up to though, so brace yourselves for a longer-than-usual letter.

Gavin,
It seems like you've started on a growth spurt again. Once you hit four, it was like you outgrew all your old clothing overnight. You're now comfortably wearing a 5T most of the time, and you're once again above average in percentiles for your age. You were 41" tall (63rd percentile) and 40 lbs (76th percentile) at your yearly check-up. Everything else checked out okay, minus your first couple of cavities when we took you to the dentist recently. Sorry--Mommy and Daddy haven't been the best flossers and you got a couple cavities in between your back molars where your teeth are tight.

Last week we had parent/teacher conferences at daycare and your teachers raved about what a sweet, kind boy you are. They said you're one of the few in class who gets along with all of the kids, even the ones who aren't very friendly back to you. They also said you've been sticking up for yourself more instead of crying when you get upset, and I got to experience it firsthand the other day when one of your classmates called you a "baby" at drop-off. It was totally my fault, and I felt awful, though you didn't seem to mind. I'd said, "I love you, baby" when you gave me a hug and another kid picked up on it. When he said, "You're a baby!" and pointed at you, you almost-yelled, "I'm not a baby! I don't like that!" and went on about your business. I was so proud of you, but felt bad, too. I'm sure it was just the first of many times I'll embarrass you. Sorry in advance, kiddo.

You also recently had a 4-year screening to see where your skills line up compared to other kids your age. One area you excelled in was language. You call out rhyming words all the time at home, and the test-giver was impressed that you'd already mastered that skill.

Probably the most exciting part of your last month, though was your friend birthday party at the Legacy Park Community Center pool. You were so excited to invite all your friends from class. You all swam at your favorite indoor "froggy pool" and we had cookie cake and opened presents. It was so fun watching you get to celebrate your special day with kids you'd grown up with from babyhood.

Speaking of your birthday, this year was your golden birthday (you turned 4 on the 4th), and I tried to make as big a deal as possible so you'll remember it. There were balloons, and pancakes, and birthday parties, and more balloons, and stickers, and streamers, and presents, etc., etc., etc. It was a magical day, and I hope you'll never forget it.

I love you more,
Mommy


Bennett,
There are so many updates for you, little man. It's been a big month! There were so many firsts, I could barely keep track. You started saying "hi" and "hello" when you're waving, or when you put a phone up to your ear. Not really any other real words yet, but you're signing like crazy. You sign "more," "all done," and "drink" almost every night at dinner, and "nurse" when it's time to nurse before bed. And every time you see Daisy, you frantically sign "dog" over and over until we say, "Yes! That's the dog. That's Daisy." You also blow kisses daily, and wave bye-bye when I drop you off at daycare.

You've been cruising along pretty good for a while now, and standing on your own, but it wasn't until the day of your big first birthday party that you took off and haven't looked back. You're officially walking and getting better at it every day. You love to stand and climb on things, too. When you stand next to your toy box, you get out every toy in the box and then proceed to stand or stomp on each one before abandoning the pile and moving on to your next conquest.

When you hear music, you can't help but dance, though your dancing is more of a bouncing motion right now. I'm afraid you might have your father's rhythm. It's too soon to tell. :)

Because you and Gavin have birthdays so close together, I'm guessing that your family birthday party will almost always be a combined party, but this year, I wanted you to have your own special first birthday party. We had a "Little Man Mustache Bash" complete with mustache candies, cupcakes and confetti.

The "Little Man" tie banner I made, with a picture of you from every month.

You demolished your cake, though didn't really eat that much. Most of it ended up on the floor, or in your hair, or flung on the wall. Exactly how a first birthday should go, I think.

For gifts, everyone brought a different letter they'd made or purchased to put together an alphabet wall for your room. They're all so unique. I can't wait to see them all together. And everyone signed the backs so you'll always know who made them for you.

A "D" made of wood and rock from Grandpa Dave and Grandma Charlene.

A "B" that Mommy made from the newspaper from the day you were born.

The day after your birthday, when Daddy picked you up from daycare, he got you home and you were extremely fussy. We noticed that you weren't really using your right arm and every time we touched it, you'd scream. We were obviously terrified and headed to urgent care. A few doctors, some x-rays and a day later, you were diagnosed with something called "nursemaid's elbow." Apparently it's pretty common and snaps back into place fairly easily. You hobbled around for a couple of days, but you're back to your old self now and we are so thankful. You gave us a pretty good scare.

I think that's it, buddy. See what I mean? It's been a busy month. And I can't believe you've been a part of our lives a whole year already.

I love you more,
Momma