Tissue, please...

OK, so I've mentioned that Gabe is not the most sensitive of children. He's also not exactly snuggly or overly affectionate although he has become a bit more so as he has grown. However, this morning while watching Toy Story, after the scene where Andy's mom is trying to console him about losing Buzz and Woody, Gabe says, "She's a good mommy like you, isn't she?" Melt!

Which reminds me, last Sunday morning, Van got a chance to do his own share of melting. He had been putting in long hours the previous week, including working until 8:00 Friday evening and all day Saturday after which he and I went out to dinner, sans children, with my family to celebrate my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. Needless to say, Gabe, the consummate "daddy's boy", was desperately in need of some daddy-time. When he came into our room Sunday morning to discover that Van was actually there and not already gone to work, he exclaimed, "You get to stay home today, Dad! I love you so very much!"

And let the record show, Sam is saying "mama". Whether or not he knows what it means is beside the point! He's saying "mama" -- not "dada"!

Snippets

OK, just some little moments of interest from recent days:

While driving to the mall, Gabe noticed one corner of an intersection that had been cleared for development. It looks like a huge mountain of dirt and rock and felled trees. He said, "Mom, I wish I could play in that dirt." This was funny for a few reasons. First, I was struck by the irony of this very all-boy comment coupled with the fact that he was holding his beloved mermaid toy at the time he made it. Also, his tone was one of resigned longing; he knew there was no chance he was actually going to get to play in the dirt, but he just had to express the desire anyway.

Just out of the blue in the kitchen the other day, Gabe started singing, "But you gotta have friends...", which he immediately followed by yelling, "Stop singing!" Up to this point, most of his movie quotations have been Star Wars-related. This particular gem was from Shrek. Yesterday, he said, "It's not about you, Bob." The Incredibles. He's also gotten pretty good at singing a lot of the words to his favorite songs, among them: "You've Got a Friend in Me", "I'm a Believer", "All-Star", "Magic Bus", "What is my Life?", "Where are we Running?", and of course, "Rosanna". Oh, and the dancing that accompanies the singing is quite amusing in itself.

Sam and Gabe have a new form of communication these days -- squealing. It's quite shockingly loud, startling, and hilarious at the same time. They just squeal back and forth at each other, and it gets louder and louder as they each get more and more excited.

Sam has started putting his hands together, almost like he's clapping. Today I started doing "Pat-a-Cake" with him, and he was putting his hands together and sort of singing along with me. He's got two bottom teeth now and is sitting up really well. Still no signs of crawling, but that kid can do some serious locomoting just by rolling and pivoting.

Yarn Update

At bedtime tonight I gleaned more information about the Yarn, who has apparently been making recent appearances in Gabe's dreams. According to Gabe, he is "a bad guy", which is defined this way in Gabe's world -- "he hurts people". This puts him in the same category with Darth Vader, General Grievous, Emperor Palpatine, Zurg, orcs, wicked witches, Randall the monster, sharks, and any number of other movie characters. (Conversely, "good guys"-- such as Luke, Obi-Wan, Buzz Lightyear, Frodo, Dorothy, Sully, and Nemo -- "help people". Don't you wish life was really that simple?) He lives behind the trees in our yard, but in his own yard. I pointed out to Gabe that it means he is on the other side of the fence, which seemed to bring some comfort momentarily. When I asked what the Yarn did, Gabe answered, "I was trying to put on my Georgia Bulldog, and he bited my head." Again with the biting thing. We have repeatedly told Gabe that the Yarn is not real. Not sure if this is sinking in or not. I hope he remembers this thing long enough to be able to tell us what it is someday.

And in the next bedroom, little Sam has been sleeping ever so much better lately. In fact, dare I say that it is becoming the norm for him to sleep through the night? Every last little superstitious fiber of my being is trembling with the utter certainty that I have completely ruined any chance of decent sleep tonight. He is also finally doing some rolling over. He did it for the first time at about 4 months, but he has only recently begun doing it on a regular basis. Half of me wants to urge him on, and the other half is dreading the progression of ever-increasing mobility this signals. This child is going to be into EVERYTHING! With Gabe, we could have probably saved our money and left the electrical outlet covers and cabinet locks at Babies R Us. The kid just didn't get into anything. The worst thing he ever put in the toilet was an enormous wad of toilet paper, and that only happened in the last few months after he started doing #2 there (by the way, we have been experiencing a bit of regression in that arena lately -- not fun). But I don't suppose there's any point in borrowing trouble. Maybe our predictions will prove to be erroneous, but I'm not placing any bets. Back to the rolling thing, though, last night he rolled over on his tummy while crying himself to sleep. When I went in to check on him and give him a paci, he was on his belly with his face turned to the side and holding his small teddy bear under his head like a pillow. He fell asleep that way -- too cute.

Super-Gabe Hits the Beach

I'm way overdue in writing this post. Our annual family vacation to St. George Island, Florida, ended a month ago this weekend, and I am just now taking the opportunity to put down some of the more memorable moments. Over all, it was probably the most enjoyable trip we've had even though there were certain concessions that had to be made considering we were travelling with a 6-month old.

Sam had his first water experiences, aside from the bathtub that is. He loved the pool and even seemed pretty interested in the ocean. He's a splasher. Unfortunately, he must have been nursing an ear infection all week based on the fact that his eardrum ruptured by the following Monday. The only signs we had on vacation were a runny nose and constantly goopy eyes -- well, and the fact that he never once slept through the night.

Gabe was really fun this year. We broke down and bought a portable DVD player for the trip to keep him occupied. Little did we know that he would be so mesmerized he wouldn't even sleep for the entire ride. Nana bought him "Toy Story" right before we left, and he must have watched it 20 times or more over the course of the week. Hence his new fascination with Buzz Lightyear and Woody the Cowboy, which we take as a welcome break from all things Darth Vader. Gabe also got to sleep in a bunk bed for the first time -- he did great, not one mishap. He was fearful of getting in and out of the ocean, but once he was in, he twirled around in his Spiderman ring like an indiginous creature. This leads me to the funniest moment of the whole trip. Combining his newfound admiration for space rangers and his desire to get in the water, one day after playing in the sand, he wanted to wash off his hands, which meant he needed one of us to take him in the water. We told him he could do it by himself. Well, to compound the issue of his fear of the waves at the shoreline, the sand itself had been eroded into a cliff-like formation by the tide that was probably 18 inches to 2 feet in height. Determined to wash his hands and unable to convince one of the adults to aid him in his mission, Gabe resolutely turned toward the water and contemplated the feat ahead of him. Now, at this point, I have to stop to give you a clearer visual picture. Gabe was wearing his navy blue Body Glove swimsuit, which resembles a diver's suit, his Nemo boating cap, his Power Ranger arm floats, his Spiderman ring float, and his beach shoes. He put his swimmie-clad arms in the air, squatted down, and released his battle cry, "To infinity and beyond!", upon which he leapt off the sand cliff and landed at the water's edge. Then, as though he had landed on a trampoline, he immediately sprang back up, doing a 180 degree turn in mid-air to face the beach and landed safely away from the waves, to his own amazement and our amusement.

Crying baby beckons...

Attack of the Brother

Oh blessed night, the night my children both slept until morning -- if only my bladder would allow me the same uninterrupted bliss! Yes, in what I believe to be the FIRST TIME since sweet Sam was born exactly six months ago to the day, both of the boys slept from around 8pm last night until shortly after 7am this morning. I was awakened to a sound that I can only imagine will become the running soundtrack of my life for the next 18 years or so -- two little voices happily talking their own little languages to themselves. Sam's was that sweet little baby cooing that makes a mother feel like she might actually be on her way to successfully raising a well-adjusted, happy child. Gabe's was the now-familiar monologue of Star Wars-laden idioms laced with a few comforting phrases to his dear Mermaid doll (yes, the Mermaid, Ariel, whom we believe to be his sometime girlfriend and sometime child). OK, so I couldn't really hear what Gabe was saying exactly, but I've heard it enough to give it an educated guess.

Things got interesting after I took Sam downstairs for breakfast. Gabe came down a few minutes later and parked himself on the beanbag in his playroom (a.k.a. my future dining room). This is not his normal procedure -- usually, he tends to make himself known upon arising. When I poked my head in to say hello, he said, "Just go 'way. I'm talk to Mermaid." I at first feared a potty-training reversion because in his diaper days, this would have been a clear indication that brownies were a-bakin'. But he assured me that he just needed to have a chat with his buxom red-headed friend, who, by the way, has an alarming propensity for crying, if Gabe is to be believed. I went about my morning, and he went about his playing, which of course included his morphing into Anakin Skywalker sans shirt a la the animated Clone Wars series. Once I finally got him fed and dressed for his last (stifled sob of distress) day of preschool for the year, he asked to take Mermaid with him to school and even grabbed a small comb for her lovely velour hair. We had just turned off our street when he explained the reason for Mermaid's current bout of tears -- she had a boo-boo. "Da monster bat her," Gabe told me. "What?" I said. "He bited her." This is where the flashback sound effects come in. Just yesterday, Gabe bit Sam right on the chest sending me into a squall of motherly fury and weepiness. Needless to say, several intense discussions ensued, along with the suspension of all Star Wars viewing until further notice. Van and I were both shocked even though we know intellectually that this is normal behavior for siblings. (Yes, Dr. Deeb, you warned me not to leave them alone together because Gabe would do something mean to Sam.) We just haven't really seen this kind of behavior from our kid, so it sort of rocked our little world. Well, apparently, it rocked Gabe's world too. Which is a relief to tell the truth.

So, back to this morning, I let him talk a little more about his dear Mermaid's boo-boo, how much it must have hurt when the monster "bited" her, and how he was going to make it all better. And slowly I let go of my little grudge hangover -- and I remembered that although he is my firstborn, he is only 3!

Poop in the Potty and No Sleep for Mommy

Just some things happening lately:

Gabe has finally begun pooping on the potty. HALLELUJAH!!! I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the potty-training tunnel. Let me say, it has been a long, dark ride. Not to mention smelly. I am tired of buying two sets of diapers -- it's costing us a fortune! Gabe has also developed a bit of eczema, which is quite unusual at his age according to the doctor. Sam is covered in the stuff, but Gabe's skin has been beautiful ever since he got past the baby acne stage.

Back on the potty-training front, we have been bribing Gabe heavily to get him to do the deed on the potty. Initially, we agreed on a specific toy he would get if/when he did it on the potty for the first time. Since that point, he earns a dollar for each successful deposit, and he saves up for other toys on his wish list. Well, he set his little heart on a General Grievous action figure (back to the whole Star Wars obsession). Needless to say, the day he finally earned the requisite amount of money to purchase the latest in his bevy of bad guys, he was beside himself with anticipation. We put all his money in -- what else? -- his small, tin Darth Vader lunch box (he has a larger, soft-sided D.V. lunch box that he takes to school). We got our shoes on, got the baby strapped in to his carrier and headed to the car. I checked to be sure Gabe had his money, and he answered in the affirmative. As we backed out of the garage, I asked one more time just to be safe, and he then told me he had left the money in the house. So, I retrieved it and then we were finally on our way. During the 3 to 4 mile trip to Wal-Mart, he must have asked me about seven or eight times where we were going and if we were going to get General Grievous. Of course, in my sleep-deprived fog, I somehow managed to miss a turn and had to take the long way to the store. Maybe I was subconsciously trying to increase his anticipation. At any rate, Gabe's excitement got the best of him at one point, and he spontaneously yelled out, "We're comin', Genral Gweebus!" As we entered the store, he told the greeter we were coming to buy General Grievous, and then he repeatedly asked me, "Where's Genral Gweebus?" until we reached the toy section and he ran to the rack that held his prize. I was dreading that the store might be out of this particular action figure, but I finally found the only one at the very back of the very top rack. When it was time to pay, we went through the self checkout, and I held Gabe up so he could scan the box and then insert his money in the slot. He was so proud of himself and so in awe of this toy. When we got home, he wanted to call his Aunt Sara to tell her about it. Now, the kicker to this whole story is that he managed to lose the thing on the very same day that he got it. Fortunately, it turned up later. He had stuck it into the spokes of Van's bike, but I, of course, did not see it at the time because I was so infuriated at the fact that he had somehow, in a matter of moments -- with me three feet away -- managed to completely cover his hands with bicycle grease. When I finally discovered the trapped toy the next day, he too was a bit on the greasy side but no worse for the wear.

We are really beginning to see Sam's personality, and he is all over the map. He ranges from squealing with delight to screaming in ire. I think I have previously referred to him as my little boy banshee (would that be a ban-he?), and the name is holding true. Just a little glimpse of life with our 5-month old: he went to bed at 9:00 last night, woke up around midnight, again around 2:00, again around 3:00, and then 3:30 (Between those last two, Gabe visited our room asking for his lamp to be turned off, and a bout of stomach cramps sent me to the bathroom.) Now, I'm not sure if Sam's eczema was bothering him or if he was hungry -- or a combination of the two -- but I was unable to settle him and just had to put him back in the bed, close the doors and hide under the covers while he cried -- no, screamed -- it out. After 15 minutes of that insanity, I went back in and gave him a pacifier, and he slept for an hour before we repeated that cycle all over again. Finally, at 6:30am, Van got up and fed him. So, today I purchased some rice cereal and we fed Sam his first solid food. He took to it like an old pro. Hard to believe this child was underweight just a month ago. I think he has packed on about 2 1/2 pounds since then. We put him down around 8:00 tonight after his little feast, and if I had a brain in my head, I would be in bed too. Here's hoping I get an hour or two of uninterrupted sleep tonight!

Just Gabe and Me

OK, so today is my 8th wedding anniversary, and I should really be upstairs spending time with the wonderful father of my two boys, but I have to take a few minutes to reflect on the day I just spent with Gabe. He is on Spring Break from preschool this week, so I am trying to do some special things with him during his vacation. Today, I dropped Sam off at Mimi's house so that Gabe and I could spend the day alone together. The plan was to check out Imagine It!, which is the children's museum in downtown Atlanta. Someone suggested that we take MARTA, our city's slightly deficient rapid transit. It sounded like a great idea since it would save me on parking costs as well as the hassle of trying to figure out where I was going in downtown traffic. Little did I know that the train ride would actually be the highlight of the day. From the moment we stepped on the train platform until we returned to the car about 5 hours later, Gabe was an absolute bundle of frenetic energy. I have never in my life seen such unadulterated glee exuding from one person for such a long period of time. It's no wonder he crashed in the car on the way home around 5:00pm and didn't even wake up for dinner. He must be utterly exhausted. I was reminded of the days in the latter part of my pregnancy with Sam when I was doing my best to savor the little time I had left alone with Gabe. I couldn't figure out how in the world I was going to love two boys as much as I loved one. I was sad to know that it would never again be just Gabe and me. Today I realized that although those moments may not come as often, they will come, and they will be every bit as special if not more so. The funny thing is that I planned this day because I thought Gabe needed it. Turns out I did too.