I now know what my son's face looks like when he eats solid food he likes. We fed him carrots for the first time today and they were quite the hit. I wish I had a video of it, but we fed them to him at Rosemary's so we have a witness. It's the first time that he acted upset after the serving was all gone. Usually you're left trying to cajole, trick, or flat out beg him to open his mouth after he's eaten a couple of spoonfuls. This has been true with green beans, peas, oatmeal, rice cereal, bananas, apples, and sweet potato. Not so with carrots. And by carrots I mean carrot baby food, not to be confused with baby carrots which are a major choking hazard for a seven month old.
Almost seven months, anyway. Tomorrow he will be seven months old. I really can't believe that. It feels both longer than that and way shorter, all at the same time. It's a good thing, though, I know that. Babies growing and getting older is the point, that's how you know you're doing it right.
Stacy, Gavin and I went to Rosemary's today. Gavin got to play with Maddie, who is about 19 months, and Ella who is four. He's still not big on interacting with other kids, but the girls were quite fascinated with him. Maddie was especially interested in the strawberry on top of his head. I can't blame her. It's not every day that you see one. And Gavin still has very little hair so it is very prominent. I don't think about it much, it's just part of his head's topography. We've been told it will eventually go away by the doctor and from what we've read -- and by a random guy at the airport who told us his daughter also had one and it went away, pointing at her neck as evidence. It doesn't bother us. We just say he's fruit bearing. Gavin had himself a good time until Channing came home. I think Gavin is getting into the stranger danger thing (or getting strange, as my sister calls it) and Channing is a pretty tall dude. So when he walked over and towered over Gavin and said in his loud man voice, "Well hello!" Gavin responded by bursting into tears. After awhile Gavin warmed up to Channing (though this isn't the first time they've met. Last time we were there Channing held Gavin and everything) even feeling the rough skin on his face.
We need to get Gavin around more dudes. Stacy and I just don't have a huge number of guys in our immediate lives. We each only have one brother, we don't have male cousins we're close to. Stacy's dad lives several hours away and besides that doesn't seem that interested. I think my dad is probably the man he sees the most. My dad's a good grandpa. But he does also say things to Gavin like, "Bros before hoes" every time he visits. I'm kind of hoping those aren't Gavin's first words.
I think that's a big worry for a lot of folks when they think of a lesbian couple raising a son. That we're not going to be able to teach him what it means to be a man. But frankly a lot of the shit that is passed down from father to son is a lot of emotionally stunted bullshit. So I don't think we're necessarily at a huge disadvantage. What makes someone a decent human being is pretty gender neutral. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying there's no difference between males and females. Granted, during my late teens and 20s I bought into the feminist thinking popular at the time that nurture trumps nature. I remember in my Women's Studies class reading the story of Baby X and thinking, "That's it. That's how I'm going to raise my child." And yet, now that I actually have a son and the more reading I've done about boys (and prior to Gavin's birth I did a lot), I really don't think the Baby X story is tenable. Am I a feminist? Yes, most definitely. Do I believe I have a Baby X? No, I do not. I think the story's intent is a good one. And I definitely want to raise Gavin to know that it's okay to talk and show your feelings and cry and all of that and if he wanted to play with dolls I'd let him. Although so far he has shown zero interest in the organic cotton non-gender-specific dolls and toys I bought for him. He likes things that are plastic and shiny and complicated and that light up and make noise. Although he also really likes Dapper Dan. I want to raise him as gender neutral as possible but, for example, I am not going to put him in a pink sweater. In fact, we got a pink sweater in a box of hand me down clothes that were otherwise all pretty boy specific and we just gave that sweater to Rosemary for her girls. However, I will put Gavin in a pink sleepsack or put a pink sheet on his bassinet or put him in a big pink bib with a strawberry on it that says "I'm berry sweet" or buy him a giant purple car seat. That stuff doesn't matter to me. But when I dress him I dress him like a little dude.
Before Gavin was born, I never would have thought that I would be choosing or rejecting clothes on a gender specific basis, but I do. I've rejected, for example, a pair of green and white stripped stretch pants with a duck face on the butt as "too girly." He has the same pants with brown and white stripes and a monkey on the butt, and they're okay. Part of it is my preferences. I love monkeys and I also am not very girly. I think I'm more comfortable with having a boy than I would be a a girl. When I walk through the baby girl clothes at the store I can't help but shudder. I just don't relate to that stuff at all and think so much of it is ugly. Granted, a lot of baby boy clothes are ugly, too, but I love dressing Gavin up in a Paul Frank t-shirt, a hoodie, and little corduroys, for example. I love when he looks like a little man. Which is weird since males have never been a focal point of my life. But that certainly has changed.
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