Blanket, revisited

Since the 'blankets' post from yesterday, I've been thinking about how one of Michael Jackson's kids is nicknamed Blanket. 

And how strange that is.

And how judgmental it is of me to think that's strange.

But c'mon, Blanket?  As a nickname for your kid? 

Perhaps Michael Jackson really liked blankets, and so he nicknamed his son that.  And that's all fine and well and good.  But, I like mint chocolate chip ice cream, and I'm not using that as an endearment for Gabe.  (yet, at least)

Or perhaps Michael Jackson's son really liked blankets, and so they all started calling him Blanket.  And that's all fine and well and good.  But, Gabe likes Strawberry Apple Puffs, and I'm not using that as an endearment for him.  (yet, at least)

Gabe likes to slobber and drool, and so I've used "Slobber King" and "Droolmeister".  Gabe really likes Bret, and so I've used "Daddy's little worshipper" (but I'm not jealous, or anything).  But never have I addressed Gabe as Slobber, Drool, or Bret.

Because that would just be strange.

There may come a day when I happen upon a nickname for Gabe in the same noun/object/item category as "Blanket"...and on that day I may even post a retraction.

But until then, I just can't wrap my head around it.

I mean, really...Blanket?!?

Blankets

Gabe is the recipient of two new blankets!

This one is from my mom - it's soft and cozy and I love it for snuggling both Gabe and I into during his 5:30 AM bottle.

This one is from Juliann - she makes super cute, super hip baby blankets and I was so excited she made one for Gabe! 

Jul and I got to visit recently and it was so fun to catch up for a bit! I got to meet her daughter, Lucy, and see her baby belly which currently contains daughter #2, due in August. Jul and I have known each other since the third grade in Mr. Clingen's class. Mr. Clingen read Where the Red Fern Grows out loud to the class and I do believe that even the boys were a bit teary-eyed at the end. If you haven't read it, please do. It's such a good story! Makes my top ten books of all time list. Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice is also on that list. As is the Bible. And, let's be honest, Stephenie Meyer's Twilight. Is it sacrilegious to have the Bible on the same list as Twilight?

(Please note that though this post may lead you to believe otherwise, we do actually dress Gabe in more than a diaper from time to time.)

...Makes Me Happy

Lately I've been thinking about what makes me happy.  It started when I was folding Gabe's laundry, which I totally enjoy doing.

No seriously, I dig it.  I'm fairly sure that when he starts running around and putting grass stains on the knees of his pants I won't be so enthralled by his laundry.  And I'm pretty positive that when he's a smelly, sweaty teenager I will be teaching him to do his own laundry.  But for now, miniature socks and shirts and pants just make me feel all sorts of warm and happy inside.

So then I started adding to the ...Makes Me Happy list in my head, and of course "Sunshine On My Shoulders" came to mind.  The thing is, sunshine on my shoulders really does make a person happy.  That John Denver was really on to something.

Other items that made the list:

• eating whip cream out of the can
• fuzzy socks
• getting a puzzle right the first time in the Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box game I'm playing right now on my DS (thanks for letting me borrow it, Christina)
• watching Dancing With The Stars on Monday and Tuesday nights.  Tonight's the season finale.  I wonder what I'm going to do with my time now?  I guess I could read, or finish that blanket I started knitting back in 1997, or something else more productive than sitting on my bum and watching TV.  Now there's a thought.
• going in to get Gabe in the morning and seeing that he's just laying there quietly, already awake and talking to himself or playing with his blanket (you really didn't think Gabe wasn't going to be on this list again, did you?)
• going in to get Gabe in the morning and having him smile the biggest "I'm so happy to see you!" smile at me (you really didn't think Gabe wasn't going to be on this more than a couple times, did you?)

Oh man, all this talking about him and now I miss him.  Bret and I have commented more than once to each other how funny it is when we'll put him down for a nap or to bed, thinking how glad we'll be to just have a few minutes to actually get something done, and then before long we'll be missing him.  Those of you that have kids:  tell me when that stops?  During the terrible two's?  The constant-question-asking four's?  The bratty pre-teen years?  The attitude-copping teenage years? 

We went away for a long weekend with Paul and Mandy when she was pregnant with Micah, and Paul said at one point:  "It's hard to be away this long; we miss the kids."  And I remember being quite surprised and thinking 'Really?  After 3 days?  You guys never get a chance to be away as a couple, I would think you'd be relishing this and hoping you could extend the trip even longer!'  My thought now is:  kudos to you guys for making it three days and making it a priority to have couple time away from the kids - "hard to be away this long" seems like the understatement of the year to me, now.

I am off to add a map to my sidebar, idea courtesy of Paul.  Remember - imitation is the sincerest form of flattery (ha - I originally wrote "mockery is the sincerest form of flattery"...somehow it just didn't look right!)

Smarter the Second Time

After weeks of craning his neck, arching his back, r-e-a-c-h-i-n-g for things that he wanted....Gabe finally figured out how to get over his shoulder and roll over from his back to his tummy on Sunday morning!

I was smarter this time around and I went and got my camera right away to try to capture the event (last time he revealed his rolling skills it took me a while to get it on film).

Also based on my last experience with Gabe learning to roll, I assumed that he would share this new trick with us and then refuse further demonstrations. But, according to my mom, Gabe was a rolling maniac yesterday and even today (well - that sounds a little extreme...how about: he was a rolling enthusiast - there, that's better).

We shall see what the rest of the week holds!

(Please note, you may want to turn your computer volume down before watching this video. Like a good little mommy I cheer Gabe's accomplishment. And since I'm holding the camera, the microphone picks it up and it's really loud. Plus my voice sounds funny. And Bret's mouth, which you can see in the video, is open. So it looks like he's making the noise but really it's me. And the whole experience is just strange. But Gabe makes a cute noise at the end. So turn your volume on just loud enough to enjoy a little Gabe noise but just quietly enough so that I don't yell in your ear. And good luck finding that magic balance between the two without hurting your eardrums!)

Mom

When Gabe was around 2 months old, I spent a very long night trying to get him to settle down and give in to sleep.  We had moved him into his crib in his bedroom at 6 weeks old, so comforting his middle of the night fussiness now meant groggily walking down the hall instead of taking two steps to the playpen from my side of the bed.

On this particular very long night, I remember 5 or 6 instances of hearing him fuss, immediately getting up, going in to pat him or give him his pacifier, him quieting down, me going back to bed, laying there for a few minutes trying to relax back in to sleep and thinking "He's still quiet, this 3rd (4th...5th...6th...) time might be the charm", and then he'd start fussing again and I'd repeat the pattern.

After the 5th or 6th time, I had an epiphany.

I got it.  I mean, I got it.  Really GOT it.  For a brief moment I saw backwards and forwards in time and I truly, deeply, profoundly understood.  And consider this:  at that point, I had only had my baby for 2 months.  So in the grand scheme of things, if we make a couple assumptions (admittedly, they're pretty sweeping assumptions, but go with me on this) and say that on average, a person's lifespan is 75 years, and on average, a person that has kids has 2 of them, then my epiphany was only really a .2%* understanding.  A .2% understanding!  That's less than half a percent!  It's less than a third of a percent!  So what I'm trying to get across here is that I had what felt like a HUGE moment of clarity, and really it was based on a very small amount of experience, so imagine what that clarity is like for parents that have watched their kids grow up, and have had more than 2 kids!!

So after all that, what was my big "A-HA!!!!" you ask?  Well rest assured, I haven't brought you this far into this post to desert you now.

I realized that no matter how exhausted, weary, rundown (and every other synonym you can think of for tired) I might feel, and no matter how frustrated, exasperated, flummoxed and confused at how to help my baby relax and sleep I might be, I would keep trying, keep getting up, keep comforting, keep nurturing that baby...because that's what being his mom means.  And in that moment I understood that this is what my mom felt for me.  This is what my mom did for me.  This is what my mom does for me.

I love my mom.  And I tell her that.  And I thank her for stuff.  And I've been telling her I love you and telling her thank you for various things for years.  But I didn't get the enormity of what what her motherhood has entailed until that moment.  And I only understood .2% of it.

The moments after the big moment were spent welling up in tears.  Lying there, waiting to see if Gabe would fuss again, a million examples of her sacrifice and giving came into my head; crashing like waves one after another, each one not able to be a fully formed thought before the next one rushed in.

Gabe is now almost 7 months old, which means I now have a .7% understanding****.

So Mom, I want to thank you for a little of that .7% that I've got experience with. 

Thank you for every minute of sleep you gave up for me.  Thank you for every meal you didn't eat or didn't get to eat until you were WAY past hungry because you were making sure I got fed.  Thank you for every hug, every kiss, every cuddle.  Thank you for every minute of alone time with Dad you gave up so that we could have family time.  Thank you for enduring splashfests during bathtime.  Thank you for cherishing my smiles.  Thank you for singing to me.  Thank you for reading to me.  Thank you for keeping me safe.  Thank you for finding delight in my giggles and laughter.  Thank you for being in awe of the Miracle of Life.  Because of your reverence, I truly believe that I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Thank you for being excited and encouraging when I could first hold a spoon, hold a cup, reach for a toy...thank you for challenging my growth and expanding my horizons by putting that toy a little further away, and thank you for cheering my accomplishment when I determined to get that toy and succeeded.  Thank you for having a sense of wonder and discovery and truly finding joy in trying to see the world through a baby's eyes.

Mom, thank you for caring for my son.  Thank you for the privilege of getting to see, as an adult, some of how you likely interacted with me when I was a baby.  The joy and delight you take in watching Gabe grow and learn; the way you talk to him; the way you play with him...I see it with an adult perspective and the child in me feels cherished and treasured.

I am so very lucky, so very blessed, so very honored to have you as my mother.

Circa 1975

*Assuming my lifespan is 75 years, and I had Gabe at 35 yrs old, I will have 40 years alive with Gabe (hopefully more, but I'm explaining my math in this asterisk footnote, so let's not get off track).  That's 480 months, and if we assume the average of 2 kids per person that has kids, that's 960 months**.  2 months out of 960 total months is .2%

** I get that evenly doubling the months isn't completely accurate, because doubling it assumes that the 2 kids are born at the same time.  How about you stop being so picky and just work with me, here?***

***Forgive the sarcasm...it's just that I'm tired of writing these explanatory footnotes and I want to go back to writing the post, so I'm a bit cranky.

****See*

Let's get right down to business, shall we?

Last night I discovered that Gabe's hair is long enough for a mohawk.

I've started several posts in my head over the last couple of weeks, but that's as far as they get. And now that I'm sitting here in front of my computer, I don't remember much of what I wanted to say. Which of course means I can claim that it was all brilliant, ground-breaking, really insightful stuff.  But I'm sure that really it was just mostly about Gabe. Like this for example:

Gabe's 6 month picture (which I took at the 6 1/2 month mark...details, details). I like the picture so much I made it EXTRA LARGE. Gabe's finally big enough for the Totten University onesie - wahoo!

A few fun facts about Gabe at 6 months:

At his well baby checkup appt he was 16 lbs 7 oz (35%) and 26.25" in length (50%). I'm amazed that he's only 35% for weight because (as you can see) he's got some good healthy baby chub on him. I asked the doctor what the 50% for weight would be and he said it's only about a pound more (17.5 lbs). Interesting.

Over the past several weeks we've gotten back into a good bedtime/sleeping routine - he typically goes down easily around 8 p.m. and usually sleeps until around 5 or 6 a.m. We are amazed sometimes at how active and smiley and playful and wired he can be right before bedtime and yet still (usually) go down with a minimum of fuss.

We have had a few grumpy baby episodes, and I keep expecting to see teeth show up to provide an explanation...but nothing so far.

Gabe loves, and I mean LOVES, his daddy. For example, Bret had picked Gabe up from mom's today so I could work a bit later. When I got home, Gabe was happy to see me and all, but when Bret handed him off to me Gabe IGNORED me and stared after Bret at the bedroom door for a good 45 seconds. Now, to be fair, there are times Bret has felt slighted because he'll be holding Gabe and Gabe will be more focused on me than Bret. I have a theory that Gabe is smart enough to have figured out that he can feel one parent holding him so that's why he keeps his eyes on the other. Of course, I also think my child is capable of winning a Nobel Peace Prize, an Olympic Gold Medal, and the Scripps National Spelling Bee, so of course I attribute his behavior to brilliance. My other explanation for his behavior is that he's far-sighted and can't actually see the parent holding him, so he looks at the one further away. So obviously, I like the "he's brilliant" answer better.

Love this picture. Love my boys. I need to find a better word, too, because "love" just doesn't say enough. I need a bigger superlative.

In other news, I got a new laptop today from work. It's got Windows 7 and Office 2007 on it. Everything is fluffy looking and I can't find all my old favorite shortcuts. And yes I realize that complaining about not liking my new computer is incredibly ungrateful. That's why I only intend to feel grumpy about having to learn a new system for another day. I promise.

And because now I feel like a cranky lady who doesn't like change, I think it's time for another picture of Gabe, who has been a major life change and one which I am not at all cranky about.  Take that, Microsoft!  It's not change I am annoyed at, it's just you and your fluffy-looking updated systems!

Gabe + Fuzzy Sleeper = Even More Huggable Than Usual, As Surprising As That Might Be.

Lastly, I'll leave you with this, which I'm pretty sure qualifies as What's Cool On The Internet, but Paul will have to be the judge of that.