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?"

Breakthrough

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!"

 

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.

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. 

A Letter to My Boys

Gavin,

You are now my big preschooler, and most days, you're totally proud of it.  For the first week back to school, you were so excited about the "Rainbow Room" and being a big kid, and riding the bus, etc., etc., until you realized that this wasn't just a temporary thing and you were going to be there all year.  The excitement quickly turned to apprehension, heavy with "I miss my old room and my old teachers." Thankfully, the new teachers' excitement to have you there has helped ease you back into looking forward to going every day, and being excited to tell us what you've been up to while you're there.  So far, you've ridden on the bus to the library several times, made home-made applesauce, and learned about the letters A, B & C, among other numerous activities. You've been most excited about your "helper job" every week and so far, I think the "teacher helper" has been your favorite. It's made you feel important and needed and I love that that's a part of the curriculum.

A completely unrelated, yet adorable photo of you in our first rain after the summer drought.

While you've been more helpful at school, it seems you've regressed a bit at home and want more help from us in things you were routinely doing yourself, like getting dressed and undressed, picking up toys, etc. I think it stems back to your baby brother a little bit and for the moment, we're glad to give you a little extra help and attention as it's needed.  

Daddy and I also took you to your first Royals game this month. You'd been begging to go all summer so we left Bennett with Grandma Jan and sat in some incredible 5th row, 1st-base-side seats. You were enthralled for about the first inning before realizing what a very long game baseball is. We all still had a blast though and introduced you to the frosty malt, which made it all worth it.

I've missed spending my days with you since you started back to school but have loved hearing all your school stories tainted with excitement and wonder and pride. I hope you love school just as much as your geeky Momma did. So far, I think we're off to a good start.

I love you more,

Mommy  

Bennett,
You, my little roly poly are a lovable little ball of sweetness. Almost literally. Your chubs get more delicious with each passing month, though I think you're finally starting to plateau as far as weight goes. Time to start solids, I guess. :)

You've always been ticklish--it's how I got your first laughs out of you months ago, but now, Daddy and I torture you frequently because you are so easy to tickle. Your back, your thighs, your neck, your tummy--all of it's ticklish and the cute little squirmy giggles you let out just keep us coming back for more. I do apologize on both of our behalves, but we just can't help ourselves.

You're drooling nonstop and chewing on everything lately, and I keep waiting for a tooth to peek through, but so far, nothing.  Which, frankly, is a good thing. Let's get a couple more months of toothless nursing in before I have to worry about you chomping down on me instead of your teethers.

The chewing on "everything" also includes those adorably fat fingers.

You're also babbling a lot and frequently say "ma ma ma" though Daddy says it doesn't count because you don't know what you're saying yet. (FYI: Screw that! Mommy wins!) We've also heard "ba ba ba" and "va va va" but no "da da da" yet. Gavin's also hoping for his name soon, too. You've apparently got a lot of work ahead of you.

The vocabulary's not quite there yet, but your motor skills are getting more advanced every day. You're a pro sitter now, rarely losing your balance, and you're scooting and army crawling to get to any toy within your reach. You got your legs under you this morning, but you weren't quite sure what to do once you got there. I know it won't be long so I'm cherishing these last moments of non-mobile baby time. You even tried pulling up on the ottoman the other day, and to that I say, "Slow down! Let's move one step at a time, kid."

Once you started sitting up, your fantastic sleeping through the night pattern disappeared and you're waking up multiple times a night again.  We're slowly trying to get you back to your old nights of awesomeness, but with all the changes going on right now (daycare, starting solids, possible teeth, etc.), I have a feeling it will be a while until we're back on track. So for right now, I'm trying to enjoy the middle of the night cuddles, but also praying they don't last too much longer.

I thoroughly enjoyed our last few weeks of "just us" time before I started back to work, and you to daycare. They were wonderful, and full of cuddles and giggles and moments I will forever covet. I missed you this week, and worried about you constantly. Though your first couple of days at daycare were hard, and full of tears and not wanting to eat or sleep, you seem to be finding a groove and by Friday, your teachers were boasting about what a great day you'd had.

You have, of course, already caught your first daycare sickness and I had to stay home with you mid-week due to fever. I originally thought it was just because of the vaccines you'd gotten the day before, but by Friday night, you'd caught the same croupy cough your brother had the previous week. One steroid shot later and you're quickly on the mend.

I can't wait to see what you've got in store for us this month, my man.

I love you more,
Momma

September Gavinisms

Thinking about Ryan's accident:

Gavin:  "I wish Daddy didn't have a cigar."

Me:  "What do you mean?"

Gavin:  "Cuz he had a bad accident and now he has a big cigar on his belly."

The morning after his first Royals game:
Gavin: "We watched the baseball game last night."
Me: "Yes, we did.  Did you have fun?"
Gavin:  "Ya.  I like watching belly button hit the ball."
Me:  "You mean Billy Butler?"
Gavin:  "Ya.  He was really good."

After noticing Gavin had been in the bathroom a long time:
Me, from the other room:  "Gavin...what are you doing?"
Gavin:  "I'm just chilling out in here."

On my first day back to work:
Me:  "Today is my first day back to work.  I'm gonna miss you guys."
Gavin:  "Mommy...you gonna be right fine.  And Bennett's gonna be right fine.  He has lots of friends to play with."
Gavin, to Bennett:  "You're gonna have music time and movement time.  Daycare is fun.  Don't be sad.  But you can't come to the Rainbow Room for big kids.  You have to go to the baby room."

After a fart at the table:
Me:  "What do you say?"
Gavin:  "Excuse me (laughing)."
Me:  "That's not funny."
Gavin:  "It sounds funny in the bathtub.  That makes you laugh."