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Sunday, August 22, 2010

Spidey-sense

Up until fairly recently, I've pretty much avoided character or cartoon themed stuff for Gabe.  I figured that I'm going to be spending enough time over the next 12 years hearing about how cool Transformers are, or how his friend so-and-so has the latest Disney character-themed bicycle and he wants one too, or watching Star Wars 50 times, so why start all the hype before Gabe even knows what it is?  Why become another cog in the marketing machine wheel? 

And then I saw these Spiderman pajamas.  And they were adorable. (As everything is when it's miniature.  This is why little kids look so cute in overalls, and why I should've realized that the overall craze 10 years ago wasn't for me.  Instead, I got a pair and wore them all the time.  Comfortable, yes.  Adorable?  Sadly, no.) 

The first night I put the pj's on him, I immediately notified Bret that we would be having a pre-bedtime photo shoot due to the extreme cuteness quotient we were witnessing.

Spidey-sense on high alert
Heroic triumph


I do believe the marketing machine has now been activated, and I am being assimilated.

Dagnabbit.

Friday, August 20, 2010

10

Gabe is 10 months old.  And yes I am feeling very cliche about it - as in "I can't believe he's almost a year old, where has the time gone" etc. etc.

Doesn't this look like one of those poses they make kids do for senior portraits? 

This is what I know about him right now.  And yes, this is the cliche part of the post where I make sweeping generalizations about the habits and character of my child, based on very little historical knowledge, so that I can someday say things to Gabe like "You always loved Cheerios, even as a baby" and to VH-1 Behind the Music like "Oh I knew my son would be a talented drummer...as a baby he would bang spoons on pans and even then, he could keep a steady beat".  (because, anyone can keep a beat if there are only 2 beats being counted)

  • Gabe loves cats.  He squeals and screeches in delight whenever he spots Smedley. 
  • Gabe prefers to eat from a metal spoon over a plastic spoon.  My mom and I have done experiments on this and tonight was the most blatant display of this preference of Gabe's I've seen yet:  I was feeding him dinner and bites offered from his plastic baby spoon were emphatically refused while bites of the same exact thing, seconds later, from a metal spoon, were happily accepted.  We think it's because he sees us eating off metal silverware.
  • Gabe adores Bret.  But I've mentioned this before, haven't I? 
  • Gabe's eating preferences are very urgent (that's the only word I can think of for it).  Once in his chair, he does NOT want to wait to eat.  Once done eating, he does NOT want to wait to get out of his chair.  And once he spots his bottle, he will go from completely fine and happy to whimpering (and screaming, if he has to wait for it to heat up).  And this one's my favorite:  if I'm carrying him upstairs with a bottle in my hand and he spots it, he will contort himself in an effort to get his mouth on the bottle nipple, with no thought to how he might be working himself out of my grasp/arms.  so, calling it my "favorite" is highly sarcastic.
  • He now has 5 teeth, and the three upper ones all arrived in the last 2 1/2 weeks.  Good times.  Oh, and his front teeth are growing in with a huge gap in the middle:
I understand that these are only his baby teeth, but this gap has already got me thinking about the costs of orthodontia.

  • And finally, I think Gabe probably needs a haircut, because the hair over his ears is long and awkward.  But somehow it just seems too early to cut his hair (see my previous comment about how I'm feeling very cliche about him turning one soon).

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Gabe's Blog

Not too long ago, someone said something to me along the lines of:  "I haven't checked Gabe's blog lately {smirk}, because you know it's Gabe's blog, not yours." 

By the way, isn't smirk a great word?

I was reminded of this yesterday as I was blog-stalking and read someone's post about how they had always vowed never to become one of those people who suddenly turns their blog into all about their child, once they have a baby.  While reading the post I felt a wave of embarassment, because my blog is probably 75% about my child.  Okay, 80%.  85%?  99% ? 

Whatever. 

Anyway, I immediately jumped to my own defense because I didn't even start this blog until we found out we were pregnant, so its purpose was actually to be about our baby in the first place.  HA!  Take that, Mr. Embarassment!

Not that I address embarassment on such a formal basis, usually...this case just seemed to call for an official title.

Besides, I'm much more interested in blogging about Gabe than I am in blogging about me.  And I figure other people don't have to read it if they don't want to.

Although I guess if I really didn't care if other people read it, I wouldn't have a map gadget down at the bottom of the page.  Hmmm...

Regardless, I am determined to forge on, and Mr. Embarassment, you can either come along for the ride or go find someone else to make blush.




So there.

Friday, August 6, 2010

41 Weeks and 5 Days

...is how long I was pregnant with Gabe, and is how old Gabe is today.

And even though:

- it was much easier to carry him around in my belly than it is to carry him around in my arms (those kangaroos really have a great thing going),

- I got a lot more sleep when I was pregnant than I have since he arrived,

- the most annoying thing he did in utero was press on my bladder (oh yeah, and refuse to come out near his due date) and now he's discovered whining as a means to an end,

I would much much much rather have him ex-utero than in.