Week 13 Day 3: Horsey Bear

Having Marilyn here was a definite help today as I feel like trash garbage. Granted, I didn't just sleep all day or anything. Though I probably should have. It's just difficult to be away from Gavin for too long, even if by "away" I mean in my bedroom with the door shut. Also, I feel guilty not taking care of him. I don't want to seem like I'm taking advantage or feel useless.

But I did take a brief nap and I could hear Marilyn and Gavin in his room playing. She was singing to him and he was laughing. She is a terrible singer. But Gavin thinks she's great. And so in a way she is. She also did this thing where she put Gavin on her knees while she was sitting on the couch and bounced him a little while singing, "Ride a little horsey, ride to town, whoa! little horsey, don't fall down." On the "don't fall down" part she'd move her knees apart so Gavin would drop down a bit. He loved this very much. I had never heard this little rhyme before but she said it's something her parents did to her and something she did to Stacy and David. My mom always did this little rhyme in French, which I sadly cannot reproduce here because I have no idea how to spell most of it. But there was a line that, in English, means, "The cat ate the cream." Helpful, I know.

Even though Gavin is still a snot-faced bear and is coughing like a mini-TB patient, he's still a pretty happy guy who loves to laugh and is quick to smile. I really hate that he's sick. The poor dude. I keep wondering if we should take him to the doctor but Stacy and her mom both think that he probably has the same virus that Stacy had -- and that I now have -- and he should be better by tomorrow night or at least the morning after.

This morning Marilyn said that she could hardly sleep last night because Gavin was coughing so much. It got to the point where she was afraid he'd somehow choked to death and then thought to herself, "Oh well, there's nothing I can do now." But then she felt terribly guilty and she'd decided that if he was dead then she wouldn't tell us that she'd heard him choking and did nothing, but then she said she started to feel so guilty about it she decided that if he was dead and she had, in fact, listened to him choke and did nothing, she would kill herself because she wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. So, you know, awesome night for her. Great story for us. Needless to say, Gavin did not choke and die.

Stacy and I were supposed to go to Parent Club tonight. Since Marilyn is here she was going to be at home with Gavin so we could actually both go (taking Gavin is still not on the table since not only is Parent Club after his bed time, but now he's sick). Unfortunately, that didn't happen with me being sick and all. I don't think the other folks there would be at all happy to have me there breathing on their babies. So I suggested Stacy and her mom go out to dinner instead. No sense in everyone being cooped up because of me. Plus I thought it would be nice to have some alone time. Just me and my thoughts. Ha. What I actually did while they were out to eat was clean up the terrible flooding mess Stacy made trying to change the filter to our under-sink water filter. It's a long story. It involved a lot of towels. I also learned that you should never assume your wife knows where the water shut off valve is in your basement because otherwise you'll spend a lot more time than you need to being sprayed in the face with water whilst under your kitchen sink.

Gavin, amazingly, slept through all of this. Thank God.

Week 13 Day 2: Action Gavin

A walk will do a sick baby a world of good. And by a walk I mean a stroller ride. Poor Gavin still feels super cruddy, and is producing super crud as well. I feel like I might be getting sick as well, so, AWESOME. My dream come true.

Gavin was really fussy when he woke up from his second nap so Marilyn and I decided to go for a walk. It was a nice enough day and we figured that it couldn't hurt and it might even help. Sure enough, as soon as we got moving Gavin was lulled and soothed. He babbled and cooed in his cold-induced husky baby voice. It seriously put him in a much better mood.

Gavin hates having his nose wiped. Hates it. You'd think we were trying to put a hot poker in his eye. Even worse, he hates being irrigated. I had to irrigate him once by myself today and he hated it but we got a lot of snot out. Marilyn helped the second time and it was less productive, but much easier with someone else's assistance. Because Gavin's a fighter.

He's a-movin' and a-shakin' these days. And I saw him crawl for the first time. Not that one kind of forward propulsion should be held superior to another, because each baby has his or her own ingenuity, but this was textbook left-knee-right-hand, right-knee-left-hand crawling. Not for a great distance, mind you, because the object of his desire (the cat) was only three knees away. But my heart literally did a flip when I saw him do it. It was just so exciting. Because I'd been watching him figure it out for the past 15 minutes or so. He's also stood by himself without holding onto anything for very brief moments. Marilyn saw him do it earlier today, and then this evening after his bath, Stacy saw him do it. In the nude, no less. He pulled himself up on the outside of tub to a standing position and then Stacy put his hooded towel on his head and he reached up with both hands and touched it like, "What's this on my head?" and for that brief time he was a free standing naked Bear.

All of this moving comes with a price, however, and he's knocked his head a couple of times today. He's got a red line on his forehead from hitting his head on the book case and a little rug burn on his face from a bombs away while Marilyn was watching him. It's amazing watching him get more and more physical. He doesn't like to be stationary if he can help it. We are definitely not baby-proofing fast enough.

Week 13 Day 1: Snot-nosed Bear

Alas, I spoke too soon. Gavin is, indeed, sick, and has been all weekend. He's a sad snot-nosed Bear. Last night I went to Meijer and bought a humidifier for his room. It's not exactly the humidifier of my dreams (an elephant-shaped one would have been nice), but I didn't have much to choose from. Also, if you go to Meijer after 9 p.m. on a Sunday, there is apparently no one there who can help you. There are people stocking shelves who can direct you to the place where they "think" something might be, and there are cashiers who can ring up whatever items you happen to find yourself in the great labyrinthian suckhole that is Meijer. Also, the Meijer Corporation is no friend to gays. But it is open 24 hours, and when you've got a baby plugged up with snot you pick your battles.

As Gavin was already in bed by the time I got home with the humidifier, I got it ready so that when he woke up for his night feeding I could go plug it in. My plan was to be all stealth and shit, but that didn't work out since the cord wasn't long enough and I ended up having to move his little dresser which of course got his attention which of course made him stop nursing. Mind you, I'm trying to set all of this up in the near-dark (the light from the bathroom is all I've got). Stacy was annoyed with me, though he slept super hard the rest of the night and Stacy even had to wake him up this morning to have him nurse before she left for work. And anyway, before she was even through nursing she came into our room with him and said we needed to irrigate him because he was so stuffy he couldn't breathe to nurse. Irrigating means squirting baby saline spray in his nose and sucking gunk out with a snob bulb. This is, surprise, not his favorite thing. But he was so good about it last night. He cried a little bit, but not much. And he did try turning his head and smacking the irrigation tools away, but Stacy was able to hold him while I did the dirty work. And Stacy reported that he had a much easier time nursing afterwards. The humidifier also seems to have really helped but I still do not understand how making the air wetter makes your nose run less.

Also at Meijer I bought a little onesie that says "I ♥ Grandma" on it since his grandma is currently visiting and staying with us. That would be Stacy's mom. I even did a late night load of laundry so that it would be clean for him to wear first thing this morning. She came in while I was getting him dressed and his "I ♥ Grandma" onesie was, in fact, all he had on since I was changing his diaper. Not exactly how I expected the reveal to go, but hey, she still thought it was sweet.

With Gavin being sick it was really nice to have someone else here to look after him. But it's also stressful to hang with my mother-in-law all day. So I am pretty tired out. But she adores Gavin and that really, really helps. Tomorrow Stacy has to work late because she has a meeting after school, so it will be an extra long day. The weather is supposed to be nice, so hopefully Gavin is feeling well enough to go for a walk. That would be good for all of us, I think.

Even with snot running down his face, Gavin is still the most beautiful boy in the world. Though chances are good he will be up at 4 again all crudded up, so I should really get my ass to bed so I can be of use when the time comes.

Week 12 Day 5: Water water everywhere

It's the end of a long week. At least it felt long. And technically it isn't the end since there's still Saturday and Sunday to go, but today is the last day this week that I'm on solo baby patrol.

Gavin was not as crabby today as he was yesterday and the day before, so I think it's safe to scratch the whole sick baby theory. Maybe he's just a brat. I'm kidding. Mostly. Stacy thinks that maybe he's not getting enough water during the day and thus is getting dehydrated which results in the crabbiness. I am not so sure about this since he's still peeing a good deal and his bowel movements aren't, like, rock hard or anything. (Who even writes something like that? My god, who have I become? A mom, that's what. I'm a mom now, damn it, and poo is a huge part of that, whether I like it or not).

But it's true that he probably should be drinking more water since he's not being breast fed as often or taking a bottle so much. The problem is, he is very resistant to this idea. We've tried two different kind of sippy cups. The ones with the stopper inside to prevent spills that require suction to extract water are a no-go. With the stopper in Gavin gets no water at all from it. Take the stopper out and it's like a watering can. You might as well just have him drink from a regular cup. Which we do, from time to time, and the results always include a wet shirt (his, usually, though mine is not ruled out) and coughing and "Mom, you're trying to drown me" sounds. The other sippy cups work better and he'll actually drink out of them. Unfortunately we only have one lid between the two cups as one is M.I.A. They're Green Sprouts cups, which I got at Big Lots before Gavin was even born for, like, $3 each. If I had only known then what I know now I would have bought all they had. I can't find them online anywhere for less than $5 each, which doesn't take into account shipping. Babies R Us sells them for $9.99 each. WTF?

Okay, I just found them at an online hippie vitamin store for a little over $5 each. In order to get free shipping I had to order myself a box of Tofurkey Jurky. Oh the things I do for love... Or, should I say, the things I do for my son's hydration.

Gavin and I went to Borders and Krogers today for our Big Outting. I wheeled him around Borders (in Birmingham) in his stroller, which means we never went upstairs, but there wasn't anything I wanted up there anyway besides books about raising vegetarian kids, but they didn't have what I wanted in stock. He seemed to dig Borders quite a bit and he got some new books to boot. He has this book called Baby's First Sounds. It consists of photographs pared with one or two word sounds that the object in the photo makes. For example, there's a dog and it says underneath, "Woof." When Stacy first brought it home I thought it was really dumb. But Gavin really digs it. In fact, he's dug the hell out of it -- broken the spine, chewed the edges, marred the cover. So I got him a couple more from the series, including Baby's First Colors, which has a pair of gay pride rainboots on the cover.

Marilyn is still not here. The plan is that she will arrive tomorrow in the afternoon. I hope Gavin is excited to see her and doesn't cry because that would hurt her feelings. The house is so messy. I have much to do tomorrow, which means I should get some sleep.

Week 12 Day 4: More quab!

Marilyn's arrival has been postponed again. She called today and said she was coming on Saturday morning.

We had another crabby day today. I felt pretty crummy yesterday, like I might be getting sick, too, and Stacy is still coughing like she has consumption. So with two crabby Bear days, I am wondering if he isn't coming down with something himself. His appetite was not great today. It was hard to get him to eat anything. He clamped his mouth shut and flailed at the spoon when I tried to feel him plain rice cereal made with breast milk. Rosemary had given us some rice cereal with mixed fruit and some oatmeal banana cereal and Gavin has clearly become accustomed to the taste of sweetness (something else he gets from me). So after barely getting a few spoonfuls of cereal down his hatch I gave up. He was clearly not having it. He ate his green beans, though not as eagerly as he usually does. And he ate his applesauce. But he still needed some protein, damn it, and right now he's getting that from breast milk. So Gavin and I headed off to Kroger to get him some new rice cereal with fruit. At the store I told him, "We need to find something you'll eat so you can keep growing at an alarming rate."

The next feeding the fruit rice cereal got a better reception, but not by much. Worried that he wasn't getting enough breast milk I decided to give him a bottle, something I haven't done for days because the last few times have not been pretty. He fusses, he fights, he cries. Bottle feeding is not something he's interested in now. But I thought maybe he'd be receptive to it since he was tired and hungry. Maybe it would be a good wind down. But I was wrong. It was a good wind up into sadness. He drank one ounce and one ounce only and wasn't going to drink the rest for anything. You can only explain nutrition to an 8 month old so many times before you give up, you know?

Tonight while Stacy and I were sitting on the couch together, me reading, she doing lesson plans, she mentioned how crabby he was today. "He was just really demanding," she said. "Just exhausting." So true. Today felt very long despite our Kroger outting. Oh, we also went to the credit union drive through ATM.

In baby development news, I saw Gavin go from a prone position on his tummy to sitting up all by himself. Also, Gavin wants to stand up constantly. The trouble is, he can't do it on his own since his balance is not his strong suit right now. His favorite thing is for one of us to hold his hands while he uses his legs to stand. But as you can imagine, this severely limits both of our mobility. But he's a very strong little dude. I suspect he might have thighs of steel, even if they look like thighs of pudding from the outside.

Week 12 Day 3: Crab attack

Stacy is sick. She even came home from work early today. Scheduled a doctor's appointment and everything. She has a hell of a cough. I'm hoping she can kick it quickly, but usually when she gets the coughs it stays around a long time. I remember once when she coughed like a smoker for almost a month. I told everybody she had TB.

And if a sick wife isn't bad enough, Gavin might also be getting sick. He was hella crabby today. Very demanding. Very "don't you dare try to put me down." Even though Stacy is sick, I couldn't wait for her to come home. Sometimes it really does get to a point where you're all, "Just shove a boob in his mouth, I'm going to the bar." Okay, the first part is accurate, the second part not so much. I'm not a bar person. If I need to escape I go to the store. Maybe the drug store (I've been told I go there "more than anyone I know"), maybe Target. I don't know. I live on the edge.

Having Stacy home was nice despite her being tubercular and all. Not only did I have backup with Mr. Crab, but we were even able to mend Gavin's play pen. See, Jasper and Gavin have a new game they've been playing. In fact, they were playing it yesterday morning, which is probably when the damage occurred. From the inside of Baby Fun Jail, Gavin likes to scratch his finger nails against the mesh sides. Interesting texture, interesting sounds. Gavin's scratching got Jasper's attention (perhaps he was surprised that other creatures besides cats are into scratching). So with Gavin on the inside scratching away, Jasper is on the outside trying to "catch" Gavin's hand through the mesh. Claws out, the whole deal. Gavin thinks this is hilarious. Either Jasper didn't ever "get" him or Jasper was playing extra nice, though claws were certainly in play as last night Stacy discovered holes in the mesh. There are three of them, two are large (and by large I mean about the side of my finger tip) and one is small. But of course the next day Gavin found them immediately and pried at them with his fingers. A mending was in order and my idea was to use iron-on patches, one on each side of the mesh so that ironing them caused them to stick together. But Stacy pointed out that it would be difficult to keep the patches in place since they weren't going to stay suspended in the air on a vertical surface. So we had to sew them on. I used two square patches that I bought awhile ago to sew on kids' clothing. The one on the inside of his pen says "I am shellfish" with a picture of a crab, and the one on the outside says "says, "cruisin'" with a girl on a scooter. With Stacy sitting inside Baby Fun Jail and me on the outside, we sewed these little patches together thwarting our son's prying fingers. While we were sewing I asked Stacy, "Do you know why we're doing this?" and she answered, "Because we love a Bear," which is exactly what I was thinking.

Do to Stacy's illness and Gavin's crabbiness, there was no big outting today. Alas.

On the mother-law-front, Marilyn is in Michigan but is currently with her friend whose husband passed away a short time ago. Stacy says her mom will get here on Friday.

Week 12 Day 2: Stinky poodle, crying baby

Gavin is crying. And crying. And crying. It's late. He went to bed very easily tonight. He should still be asleep. We want him to be asleep. He wants very desperately to be asleep. And yet despite everyone wanting the same thing here, sleeping is not coming easily to Bear right now.

I'm fairly certain I was the one who woke him up. Though in my defense, Stacy made me. She insisted I wash the dog tonight even though I was worried that such an action, with the bathroom being adjacent to Gavin's room and all, might wake the baby. But Stacy's mom is coming tomorrow and she didn't want Henri to be, well, stinky. And he was. He had a very distinctive poodle aroma with top notes of "I have rasty breath and I lick myself" and low notes of earthiness (i.e. dirt) and the Fritos smell of dog feet. So a bath was definitely in order. And Poodle is clean now. But Bear is awake. Stacy has been trying to soothe him for some time now. I'm on deck.

You'd think Gavin would be all worn out since we shopped 'til we dropped today. Okay, a slight exaggeration. But we did go to two stores today. And I pushed him past his point of tolerance, which was evident once we got home and I tried to feed him lunch. Poor dude. He was so tired he was trying to suck his thumb while I was trying to spoon oatmeal into his mouth. I managed to get some oatmeal and some green beans in him before he had a melt down and I rushed him off for his nap. He didn't wake up from his morning nap until a quarter after eleven, which is really late for him, but apparently that does not mean that his next nap can be pushed back. My mistake.

In any case, our first stop today was Bed Bath and Beyond because they had good prices on baby proofing stuff on their website and I had a coupon. Turns out, they don't actually sell baby proofing stuff in the store, only online. I did, however, find throw pillows for the couch on clearance, however, and with my coupon I got three pillows for $10. They are, incidentally, Roxy brand pillows, and were originally $35 each. I never in a million years would pay that much for a pillow. That is insane. Gavin and I are bargain shoppers. I really like shopping with him. He is so good at the store. He is getting more and more grabby, but I usually give him something he can hold onto while we shop. After Bed Bath and Beyond we went to TJ Maxx because I was looking for turquoise or lime green wash cloths since our white ones have seen better days. I found some but after I got home I realized they don't match at all. Alas. But mostly I just bought stuff for Gavin anyway. And a bread knife, which Gavin desperately wanted to hold, and though it was sealed in a hard plastic package, I thought it would be a bad precedent to set. Not only that, but I can only imagine how it would look to be strolling around the store with my baby sucking on a serrated blade. I'd probably get the same looks that Stacy got when she was 8 months pregnant in the liquor store buying triple sec. It was for a recipe, but still.

This afternoon after his nap Gavin met us as a stand-up baby for the first time. I don't mean that he was cracking jokes (though he does have a great sense of humor. He laughs a lot and thinks Stacy and I are hilarious. We are his clowns), but that he was standing up in his crib waiting for us. He has never done that before. Thankfully we lowered his crib mattress a long time ago and he has the crib tent which makes his a little more secure. Needless to say it was adorable and he looked very proud of himself.

As I mentioned, Stacy's mom is coming today. She lives in Florida and hasn't seen Gavin since Christmas. Needless to say, she is very excited about this. I am less excited, only because she is staying at our (very small) house (usually she would stay with David, Stacy's brother, but he is in the process of moving right now). And she is staying for two weeks. And I am home full time. Marilyn and I have a strained history to say the least. But we're on good terms now and she is crazy about Gavin so we have very common ground there.

Week 12 Day 1: Welcome to the jungle

Gavin napped fitfully this morning, going to sleep at 8, waking up at 8:30, cooing and rooing until about 9, then finally falling asleep again only to do the whole routine over at 9:20. At 10 I poked my head in to check on him and he was on his side, his back against the crib rails, facing away from me. My first thought was, "Oh, how sweet, he's sleeping." My next thought was, "But what if he's dead?" From the doorway I couldn't tell if he was breathing or not, which meant I had to enter his room quiet ninja style. The wood floors in our house are really creaky, so I'm always walking in a sort of sound minefield (when I was little I thought it was "mindfield"). I managed to make it to his crib without waking him, which only heightened my fears that he might not be breathing. I kneeled down next to him, my face just inches from his head. Perfectly still, I listened for his breath and watched his shoulders for that tell-tale rise and fall of his chest. Sure enough, he was fine. I watched him a little longer and touched the back of his head with one finger. Then like a mama monkey I sniffed his head and neck through the bars. His skin smells really good. His breath usually does, too, though I've noticed the past few days that he's got the slightest whiff of morning breath.

I was hoping he'd get up from his nap on time today if not a bit early because we had a date with our friends Channing, Ella and Maddie. At the Oakland Mall (which, by the way, has a terrible website). Because we know how to party. I met them at the kids' play area, which, similar to many play areas in malls across the country I'm sure, consists of an enclosure surrounded by benches for parents to sit while kids run rampant on ultra padded industrial carpeting, jumping and climbing on brightly colored plastic creatures filled with foam to prevent concussion. The Oakland Mall's play area features brightly colored dangerous animals, especially heavy on the reptiles. Snakes, frogs, turtles, an orange crocodile, a big pink hippo, and a giant alligator with a mouth you can climb or slide out of. I tried very hard to get a picture of Gavin in the alligator's mouth, but it was a very high traffic area, to say the least, and I abandoned the quest after deciding that it wasn't worth my son being trampled. I took a video and lots of pictures, but I've sadly not uploaded them yet. When I do, I'll post them.

Gavin was at first pretty slack jawed about the whole thing. He's never been to the mall before, let alone a "dangerous animals" themed play area with kids running about. It took a little while, but he warmed up and started to climb on some of the smaller animals. He also liked watching the kids, especially his friends Ella and Maddie. Mads is twice Gavin's age but the same size. She can walk and several times she came over to Gavin to give him a hug. She's also kind of obsessed with Gavin's strawberry. It really fascinates her. A lot of kids are intrigued by it. A little girl playing there came up to Gavin and I and pointed and said to me, "I see something on his head." I smiled and told her that it was a birthmark and marveled at how direct kids are. She was perfectly satisfied with this explanation and hopped away.

After Stacy came home from work I went out and did a little grocery shopping and when I came home a little after 7:00 I found Gavin and Stacy in the kitchen. My first response was, "What is he doing here?" as if Gavin were some kind of nemesis intruder. I didn't mean it to sound that way, it was just very surprising to find him awake. He's usually asleep before 7:00 even hits. "He won't nurse," Stacy said, and when I looked at her it was clear she'd been crying. Gavin is starting to ween himself and it's breaking Stacy's heart. Not that she wants him to stay an infant forever, but nursing is something she really likes and is something really special between them that she is going to really miss. "Well, it's not the last time he'll break your heart," I said, because I am supportive. He won't take a bottle from me any more, either. I shouldn't say "won't," because he will, for a short while, and then he crabs out. In any case, when Stacy tried to put him to bed again after I got home he did nurse and he went right to sleep. Still, nursing has become a hassle for her since he's so squirmy and easily distracted. The plan was to nurse him until he's a year, but I'm not sure he'll last that long.

Week 11 Day 5: Eight months eve

Tomorrow Gavin will be 8 months old. Nevermind that I've been telling people he's 8 months old for nearly a month now, thinking he would, in fact, be nine months old tomorrow. Then again, I can hardly remember how old I am or how old Stacy is. Math is hard. Parenting is hard. Doing them both at the same time? Impossible. At least for me. But tomorrow really is Gavin's eighth monthiversary.

Speaking of knowing how old my son is, did I mention that I basically told the United States Census that Gavin does not yet exist? Per their instructions, I listed Gavin's age as 0, since he's under a year old. Unfortunately I also put that he was born July 20, 2010, which, of course, hasn't happened yet. I guess I'll chalk it up to my traumatic census experience. But just like John Edwards will one day have to apologize to his illegitimate daughter for claiming she did not exist, I will one day have to apologize to Gavin. Though for something a lot less serious. Way to go, John Edwards. Way to go.

I know you're dying to hear what today's Big Outing was. I'll give you three possible answers. Was it
A: Meijer (which, really, is Meijer's, since nobody calls it Meijer)
B: Target
C: A walk
D: A pawn shop/check cashing/scrap metal yard/gentlemen's club/gun shop/firing range/liquor emporium/drycleaners supercenter

If you answered "D," you are incorrect, but please tell me where such a place exists as I could get so much done under one roof. If you answered "All of the Above, Except "D," you are correct and win the grand prize of feeling smug.

My big mission today was to find bibs, specifically hand towel-sized bibs made of terry cloth that pull over the head (and by "the head" I mean Gavin's). Gavin can make quite the mess when he eats and we don't have a lot of feeding bibs. The drool bibs are really no match for peasycarrots (what I call the carrots that I sneak peas into so Gavin will actually eat peas) not to mention oatmeal and rice cereal which hardens into a cement-like substance as it dries. I had actually found the exact kind of bib I was looking for at Target, but they had Elmo on them, which, as you know, is a no-go for me. So I figured I could find something less offensive at another big box store. When I was pulling out of my driveway I hadn't yet decided if I was going to Meijer or K-Mart, but quickly realized that I did not want to take Gavin to K-Mart. He's just too young to witness that kind of sadness. The last time I was at K-Mart I took note of the display on the wall behind the customer service counter. There were photos of employees, such as the store manager and the employee of the month or whatever, and some signs regarding return policy, etc., all housed in very cheap frames that were wildly crooked. No framed item shared angles or degrees with any other, as if a blind person had been tasked with hanging them. All I could think was, "Someone did this on purpose. Someone stepped back from this disaster and said, 'Yep, that's the best I can do. This is totally acceptable.'" Pretty much sums up why I don't like shopping at K-Mart.

After Meijer we went to Target to return some rugs (Fun detail. Read: not important!). As I had planned on just going in, returning the rugs and dashing back out, I didn't bring Gavin's cart-seat protector thing. But as we were leaving the sun was very bright in the parking lot and Gavin was squinting into it and I remembered that I had wanted to get him a sun hat. We go for a lot of walks and though his stroller has a shade, it can't always be positioned to keep the sun off. And so we went back into Target and I put Gavin in an unsheathed cart. I wiped the handle down with hand sanitizer, but before I could even finish this task Gavin wrapped his lips around the metal bar. So probably he has hoof and mouth disease of something now. But hopefully he won't get skull cancer from the sun since we did, indeed, find him a sun hat (I say "we" but actually, I found it. Gavin was no help at all, busy as he was making out with the shopping cart). And sunglasses. Though we haven't tried the sunglasses yet, the hat looks mighty cute even if it is a bit babyish. But as Laura pointed out, Gavin is a baby.

Week 11 Day 4: Beware Big Bear

Today was largely disappointing, although the disappointment had nothing to do with Gavin. I somehow managed to miss an important appointment completely by writing the wrong time down on my calendar. And that kind of put me in a funk for the rest of the day. Thankfully I had Gavin with me, and he's a pretty happy dude and is also soft and cute and has a really good smelling neck. Among other positive attributes. I was going to bring him to my appointment, which would have made that today's Big Outing. But since we missed that I took Gavin to the library where we poked into the children librarian's office to tell her how much we enjoyed Baby Time and how the only reason we haven't been there for the past month is because Gavin decided that 9:15 would be a good time to be asleep for his first nap of the day. She remembered Gavin's name, which was sweet. She then encouraged Gavin to go say hello to Big Bear and maybe play with some puzzles.

Here's the thing about Big Bear. He is, quite literally, a giant stuffed teddy bear and he sits on the floor next to one of the bookshelves. Children flock to him and crawl on him and sit on his lap and in general writhe all over his existence. As a result, Big Bear is Big Gross. He's a lice outbreak waiting to happen. He's a fuzzy flu magnet. He is very visibly dirty. I have no doubt that he harbors every conceivable bodily fluid children can muster in at least trace amounts. Needless to say, I don't encourage Gavin to interact with Big Bear. Thus far he has shown no interest and I am thankful for that.

Big Bear reminds me of a bear Laura and I had when we were really young kids. I'm thinking 4 or 5. Somebody, maybe one of our aunts or uncles, won this enormous (though probably not nearly as big as I remember him being) stuffed bear. He was stuffed with styrofoam pellets rather than, well, whatever stuffing is. He was orange with a white tummy and white bottoms of his feet. He had a red tongue. We thought he was awesome. Unfortunately, he was clearly made to be won by some macho guy throwing baseballs into apple baskets at a state fair so that said guy could give it to his girlfriend and two months later when they break up said bear could end up in a dumpster behind an apartment building somewhere. He was not made to withstand two hyper four-year-olds with lax parental supervision. I remember him being relegated to the basement when a seam ripped and styrofoam pellets puffed into the air like carcinogenic snow and covered everything in the immediate area. My parents wanted to get rid of him, but we begged and begged. Thus the new basement home. For whatever reason my sister and I decided to "polish" the bear's feet with black shoe polish we found in the basement (remember, again, that lax supervision). And that was the cause of a mysterious (at the time) end for the big orange bear who probably had a name far more clever than Big Bear. I now know that he was huddled out in the middle of the night and deposited in a dumpster. Where, as I said, he belonged all along, if not for the maniacal love of two little girls.

Gavin and I did play with puzzles at the library. They have a bunch of wooden puzzles on short-people tables for the kids to play with. Gavin doesn't quite get puzzles yet, even the ones where it is very clear that, say, the alligator piece goes on top of the exact same picture of the alligator that was below it when you lifted up the piece to begin with. Mostly I stacked the pieces on top of each other and Gavin knocked them down. Because children love destruction. When I put Gavin on the floor to check out the books, he immediately pulled the book What Daddy's Can't Do off of the shelf. It's basically about a kid and his dad -- actually they're some kind of alligator-looking dinosaur -- and the kid is listing all of the things Dad "can't" do, like go to bed without a kiss goodnight, read books by himself, etc. I read it to Gavin, though he wasn't super interested. I did think it was kind of an ironic choice, however.

Week 11 Day 3: Green Wednesday

Today was Green Wednesday for me and Gavin, otherwise known as St. Patrick's Day. We're not Irish (though my sister Amanda just posted on my Facebook page that we are, but I don't know what she's talking about. Maybe she's drunk and so is feeling a sort of solidarity with the Irish people, kind of like how everyone in the world was a New Yorker on 9-11) and we don't drink, so St. Patrick's Day isn't a very big deal around here. However, when I was in elementary school I learned that if you didn't wear green on St. Patrick's Day then that was basically giving anyone and everyone a free pass to pinch you. I did not understand it then, I do not understand it now. But I do always try to wear green on St. Patrick's Day because, just like when I was in elementary school, I do not like to have my personal space invaded, especially not to be pinched. So really my observance of St. Patrick's Day is all about annoying superstition. Still, Gavin looked very cute with his green t-shirt and green socks on. In fact, when we went to Target for today's Big Outing, a woman in the parking lot called Gavin a Green Bean. To which I responded, "Just want to make sure no one pinches him," letting her know the lengths I will go to in order to protect my son.

I really like taking Gavin shopping. He's too young to demand that I buy him things and then throw fits when I don't, so that's a plus. He's actually really serene at the store. I push him around in the cart (covered by the cart seat thing Lisa bought for me via eBay, which I have finally figured out how to use) and he just chills, some times gazing up at me very seriously. Today I was leaning toward him making soft motorboat kind of sounds which he loved. He smiled and smiled and we just walked around like that all moon-eyed at one another. He's dreamy. I didn't buy him anything on this trip, though I did let him hold the Vampire Weekend CD I bought for myself, which pleased him as much as if I'd let him hold some toy.

When Stacy came home we all went for a walk since it was a beautiful day. I'm really glad that Gavin is becoming mobile at the same time that the weather is getting nicer.

This weekend my friend Krystal was supposed to come visit with her husband and kids. Sadly she called this morning and said they had to cancel the trip since Nate got called away to a business meeting in North Carolina instead. I was really looking forward to seeing them, too, especially since Krystal has yet to meet Gavin and I have yet to meet her new baby girl. Hopefully they'll be able to reschedule, maybe for late April. That would mean visitors all month long since Marilyn, Stacy's mom, is coming from the 2-9 (the 9th is my birthday, by the way, but I don't think she scheduled her visit to coincide with that since she doesn't usually remember my birthday). And then Lisa is coming the 17 through forever (okay, I wish. It's actually the 24th). I am so excited to meet her son, who is 6 weeks older than Gavin. And, of course, for her to meet my Gavin. The plan is that once Stacy's summer break starts we will go out to California to see her, Gavin in tow. I see lots of beach photos in Gavin's future.

Week 11 Day 2: Head count

I shouldn't have listed myself as Person 1 on the Census form. Had I listed Stacy the whole thing would have taken less time and been less a touchstone of sad reality. Okay, that sounds over-dramatic. Still. As Person 1 on the Census form I had to check a box next to the correct category for how Person 2, Stacy, was related to me. Some of the options were obviously not correct. She is not my mother or sister or itinerant roommate. Two of the options, however, were possibilities: 1. Wife, or 2. Unmarried Partner. We weren't sure which one to check. I mean, she's my wife as far as we're concerned, and I am hers. But not as far as the government is concerned. Stacy went hunting on the Internet and found an article in some gay publication about how this year the government is counting all of the same-sex couples who check Husband or Wife as married. It'll be separate from the official findings (but equal. Ha), but it's a big step as far as the government is concerned. The article said that in the 2000 Census same-sex couples who marked Husband or Wife were automatically recategorized as Unmarried Partners, which is a huge step up from 1990 when same-sex couples marking Husband or Wife had one of their sexes arbitrarily changed in order to make them a male and a female.

But categorizing myself to Stacy or Stacy to myself is something we've had to figure out for two censuses now. It was having to categorize Gavin's relationship to me that was the hard part. If Stacy was Person 1 on the form then the obvious box would be "biological child." But this is not true for me even though it feels true. So I had the choice of "step-child" or "adopted child." Now, "step-child" was easy to rule out because that is not what Gavin is. This left "adopted," which also didn't feel right. For one thing, as I said, he feels like my biological child. Hell, he even looks like me according to the people closest to me. But "adopted," which is what I ultimately checked, also isn't technically correct because he isn't. Not by me. I'm not legally allowed to adopt him in the State of Michigan (good people are working on this, but it's a very steep uphill battle). Basically he's my son in name only. I've got no legal ties to him. Sure, Stacy and I have a will and a parenting agreement drawn up with our lawyer, but there's not sure-fire thing that links me to Gavin legally should something happen to Stacy. So, thanks U.S. Census for diminishing my family.

In good news today, our friend Kris came over. She'd never met Gavin before and she and I have never hung out or anything before, either. She was my 10th grade English teacher, which my best friend Lisa thinks is really weird since I am also friends with my 11th grade English teacher, Claire, and my 8th grade English teacher, Cheryl, and my friend Rosemary was my professor in college. I don't can't explain it. I think it's just that really awesome people are drawn to teach English or something. In any case, as soon as Kris came in the door it was like she and Gavin went way back. He loved her. I was holding him and he instantly started waving his hand like he was saying hello, which he has never done, and he reached out for her with both of his arms, something he's also never really done before. She was very comfortable with him, to say the least. She has two daughters, both of whom are in elementary school now. She totally lights up when she talks about them. And she said something to the effect that every day they do something else that amazes her. It gives me hope, I guess. Not that I think I'll one day get tired of Gavin and move onto some new thing, but I am just so crazy about him, so completely amazed, that I sometimes wonder if it's possible to sustain such intensity. But I've met some really good, loving parents who have children older or much older than mine who make me believe that it is.

Week 11 Day 1: Grandpa Scary

Our big outing today was Home Depot. I wanted to get some paint to touch up the walls in Gavin's room. When I painted it I used every last drop of light blue paint we had. And then a few days later I gouged the hell out of the wall in two different places while moving a small dresser. Stacy and I were going all feng shui in there yesterday trying to figure out how we could hide the electrical outlets behind pieces of furniture. Not only did I notice some more dings, but we also ditched the dresser I'd marred the walls with in the first place and now the wall's unsightly complexion is in full display. Granted once I finish touching up the walls Gavin will probably get ahold of a Sharpie and go to town graffiting in some kind of alien alphabet. But this is the battle before me right now.

We also bought furnace filters at Home Depot, but they were the wrong size. I forgot to check ours at home before I left so I had to guess. So as soon as we came home we turned around and went to the much closer Ace Hardware in Oak Park and bought the correct size because changing the filter really couldn't wait. Basically it was at the point where the house was going to burn down and/or we were all going to get Legionnaires' disease or something. The furnace filter is one of oh so many things that I was much better about taking care of before I had a baby.

My dad, a.k.a. Grandpa Mike, dropped by for a short time today. He kicked off the visit by making Gavin cry almost immediately. I don't know what he did because I was in the bathroom. As soon as my dad got here I handed Gavin over saying, "Good, you're here. Because I really have to pee." I probably should have warned him that Gavin was getting tired because his nap time was fast approaching. But even if I had I doubt that would have done any good. I'm sure that my dad did something overly boisterous that scared Gavin. What can I say, my son is easily spooked. He's also in the wary-of-strangers stage and although Grandpa Mike isn't technically a stranger, he isn't someone Gavin sees every day or anything. He's also a very loud, over exuberant, big Polish man with no OFF switch.

In any case, I come out of the bathroom and Gavin is sitting on my dad's lap real-tear crying and as soon as he sees me reaches his little arms out me like, "Help me!" I scooped him up and reassured him that everything was fine and that Grandpa Mike was a nice guy. "He thinks I'm crazy," my dad said, to which I answered, "Oh, no doubt."

My dad's next move was to try to get the giant mange-ridden stuffed gorilla he gave Gavin at Christmas time down from the top of our entertainment center. "He's sad because you don't let him play with this," he said. Realizing it might be difficult to excavate the gorilla without knocking down the stereo speakers on either side of it, he resorted to grabbing the gorilla's hand and waving at Gavin: "Hi little guy. Why don't they let you play with me?" Gavin did not wave back.

"He's tired. He needs things to be low-key," I said, handing my now not-crying son back to Grandpa. As he held Gavin and they looked out the window together at the street in front of my house, he said in a soft voice, "Pretty soon you’ll be out there in a car, squealing the rubber, the cops chasing you, saying, 'I’m going to White Castle, Mom. Fuck you and the soy burgers.'"

Is it any wonder why I swear so goddamn much?

Week 10 Day 5: No more loafing

I'm tired and I would go to bed, but I've got a lentil loaf in the oven. That I made by myself. This lentil loaf, in fact, in case you want to play along at home, though I used egg replacer to make it vegan. I'm America's #1 Housewife now. Okay, so that's a stretch. Especially since I don't even know if this lentil loaf will be at all edible. When I asked Stacy, "What if it's disgusting?" She said, "Then I'll eat it." Me: "What if it's too disgusting even for you?" Stacy: "Then we'll throw it away." Ideally it will not be terrible and we will both find it undisgusting and perhaps even good. I'm trying to do more cooking since I do have a kid and all now and God knows I don't want him to eat like me. So I need to stop eating like me, too.

Stacy and Gavin are both asleep. Gavin has been asleep since 6:00. His nap schedule was messed up all over town today. Poor dude. I had places to be and had to drag him around. None of his naps were very good today. We're hoping that Daylight Savings Time helps hammer out his nap schedule a little bit. We'd much prefer a 7 to 7 rather than a 6 to 6 schedule.

Since I call Gavin "Bear" I was pointed to the Lily the Black Bear Den Cam today (at least I think that's why I got this particular recommendation). It is really fascinating. She has a cub named Hope. Mostly I have just seen her back as she sleeps curled (I presume) around Hope. Sometimes her back moves like she's shifting position. Also I've heard lots of grunting sounds. She's got plenty of woodsy detritus in her fur. Come to think of it, I think Lily and I have a lot in common. While the live cam is interesting, I find it more gratifying to watch the archived daily "greatest hits" videos. Not only is there cute bear-nerd commentary that helps you know what you're looking at, but you don't have to wait for hours to see a bear face. When Stacy saw the computer screen with the Den Cam up she said, "What's that?" And I said, "It's Lily." We have friends who have a baby daughter named Lucy, which is what Stacy thought I'd said. She stood there for a moment trying to figure out how this undulating hairy back was a little baby girl. In any case, Lily's Den Cam makes me think of a book I gave Gavin and Stacy for Valentine's Day called In My Den. Of course, the bear in the book is Gavin, not Lily.

Speaking of Gavin (what is this, my lentils and bear blog?), he for the most part crawled today. I say "for the most part" not to diminish his genius or grace, but because Stacy and I are kind of split on whether or not it was actually "crawling" rather than a kind of scooting/creeping. I vote for creeping, while Stacy is giving him full crawl credit. Regardless, he is propelling himself forward. Just this evening we saw three different variations of it, all while using Stacy's watch as bait. We'd put her watch across the blanket (approximately one Gavin-length away) and he'd scramble himself toward it. He used the head-as-fulcrum method again, though this is now backed up with one-back-leg action. He also pulled himself forward using his arms. And last but not least is the half-roll half-lunge, which gets high marks for forward motion, but not so much for aim. Stacy predicts he will be an early walker. I believe she was. But he is very motivated. He loves to be standing. He'd probably sleep standing up if he could. But he doesn't have the balance yet, that's for sure. Still, he's building his little muscles.

So, Stacy and I have plans for this weekend: baby-proofing the house.

My lentil loaf is done. I just ate a little of it. Verdict? I can eat this. Will I like eating this? Maybe. Too soon to tell. It's surprisingly spicy. Probably I'll get heartburn. Maybe not the best bed time snack. I'm curious to see what Stacy thinks of it. Maybe Laura and Jamie will come over and try some. And if all else fails, maybe Henri and Jasper will like it. Actually they most likely would. But they will not be eating it even if it does end up being too disgusting even for Stacy. Which looks unlikely seeing as I'm eating it. Though if I like it there is a chance she won't. We have wildly different tastes in food. I hope that Gavin's palate is more like hers since she will eat just about anything and I am very, very picky to the point of exasperation on the part of everyone who has ever eaten with me. I don't want Gavin to go through life that way.

UPDATE: The lentil loaf was a hit with Stacy, Jamie, and Laura. I also like it. Because you were dying to know.

Week 10 Day 4: Out of doors

Last night Stacy was looking at Xytex's Facebook page and some parents had posted photos of their kids. First of all, I think it's kind of weird for a sperm bank to have a Facebook page. As a Facebook user I have the option to "Become a Fan" of Xytex. I mean, I guess I would consider myself a fan seeing as that's where we got Gavin's baby daddy batter. But I'm not sure I'm ready to become a fan publicly proclaim my fan status, especially since "fan" is short for "fanatic" and I would hardly call myself a sperm fanatic. I'm also reluctant since my mother-in-law is now one of my Facebook friends (something I initially resisted, but since I am the poster of all Gavin photos -- almost 600 now -- it really didn't seem fair to have her access to her grandson's photo library restricted. In any case, neither Stacy nor I are Xytex fans on Facebook. We did, however, eagerly look at the photos of donor offspring people had posted looking for traces of Gavin. Some of the posters identified their donor by number, others didn't. None were identified as from our donor.

Anyway, this enterprise led me to wonder aloud about a sibling registry, which I'd read about, so I told Stacy to Google our donor's ID number. Sure enough, there is a registry and our donor is on it. The registry appears to be through Xytex (I was reading over Stacy's shoulder so I couldn't read the fine print). It costs $150 to join so we didn't do more than just skim the surface of it. But listed on this registry alone there were at least ten offspring from our donor. Stacy was surprised by this number. She said she'd just never considered that there might be so many out there. She said she'd never really thought about it logically, but when she pictured it in her head she had a vague number of three or four siblings. I should say, too, that I don't think of these kids as Gavin's siblings, as if he has some long lost sisters and brothers out there. Maybe "genetic material sharers" would be a better term. According to this registry, some of these kids were born several years before Gavin. Stacy noted that since he's a known donor it's possible that by the time Gavin contacts him he'll have been contacted by a swarm of kids already. That is, if Gavin contacts him. We paid extra for this particular dude's sperm because he's an open donor, which doesn't mean he's going to drop by someday and be Gavin's father, but only that when Gavin is 18 Xytex will release the donor's name and contact info to him should he request it. The donor has no obligation to talk to or acknowledge contact from Gavin. My main hope is that 18 years from now the guy will not be an asshole and that Gavin won't have to feel like there's some kind of missing piece he can't ever put together.

It was another beautiful day here today. Gavin and I spent more time outside today than we've probably spent all month. We went for a walk to this little park near us and Gavin played on the swings. "Played on" is not quite accurate. I put him in one of the baby bucket swings (I'm sure they have a real name but I don't know what it is) and pushed him. He seemed to like it. Definitely smiles, though I think he was also distracted by the dogs in the yard next to the park. Henri certainly was.

On the way to the park we ran into a neighbor lady who was also pushing a baby in a stroller and had two little girls walking on either side to boot. These are not her only children. In fact, I don't know that all three of these were hers. All I know is that she has a lot of kids. I would refer to her by name, except I don't know what her name is. I feel awful about this since she knows my name -- in fact, when she was a handful of yards away she yelled, "Hi, D'Anne!" -- and she knows Stacy's name. Neither of us know her name and it's kind of past the point of asking. She even invited me to lunch at her house and to bring Gavin over (she lives across the street and down about five or so houses). She said I should leave my number in her mailbox, which is kind of weird so I am not going to do it. But she's really nice, don't get me wrong. I'm just embarrassed I don't know her name.

After our walk Gavin and I went out in the backyard. I put an old bedspread on the grass and put Gavin in the middle of it with some of his new toys. Henri and Jasper were in the yard with us and were just as if not more entertaining for Gavin as the toys. Gavin started to get crabby after awhile so I took him in and gave him some more to eat (he's all about the solid foods. I only give him a bottle once a day now). But after he was fueled up we headed back outside. At one point Henri was sitting on the edge of the blanket and Gavin wanted desperately to touch him but Henri was several feet away. This apparently motivated Gavin to try to crawl -- and I am using "crawl" loosely here. He managed to propel himself forward, but I don't even know that I can describe how he did it except to say that it involved using his head as a fulcrum and the instrument of actual propulsion. Needless to say, he didn't do this for very long without getting frustrated and/or exhausted. But he did move forward enough to get his hand on Henri's curly fur.

After Stacy got home we all went for yet another walk. And we passed the No Name Neighbor's house. She was in the front yard with many children. We said hello, slowing down but not stopping.

Week 10 Day 3: Deafened by love

I took Gavin on a shopping spree at Big Lots today. Because I know how to show a guy a classy time. I actually really like Big Lots. I have ever since I was a teenager. For one thing, if, say, a new candy bar comes out that doesn't stay in the stores for long, you know you can find a case of them at Big Lots if you became addicted to it and need to stock up. But we didn't go to Big Lots for the candy. We went for the toys. I wasn't sure what they'd have there but I figured it was a worth a look. Even if they didn't have anything it would still get Gavin and me out of the house and so would not be a total bust. But they did, in fact, have some good toys there. A lot of Fisher Price stuff, like the Stack and Surprise Blocks he likes. I actually think they're kind of dumb and cheaply made, and it's not something I ever would have initially bought him, but a friend gave him some as a gift and so here we are. So I got him a little dump truck and some other blocks and stacking toys. When we're at the community center play room he seems to really like the trucks. And balls. But we don't have any balls yet. I'm working on that (by which I mean I am looking for some kind of ball to get for Gavin not getting a sex change operation or something).

Gavin slept nearly two full hours during his second nap today. I didn't get nearly as much done as I would have liked because I was on the phone with the unemployment office (long story). I guess they figure that you're unemployed so you don't have anything better to do with your time than stay on hold. I did get the kitchen cleaned up, however, which was a big accomplishment since it had reached crisis level. If only I would have been able to vacuum. Alas. Our floors are in crisis, too.

The weather has been really amazing these past few days. I think it's supposed to be nice tomorrow, too. We should go for a long walk. I need the exercise. I only wish Amanda was here to go with us...

I read a poem tonight by Vera Pavlova that reminded me of Stacy. It begins, "Only she who has breast-fed / knows how beautiful the ear is." Stacy is quite the admirer of Gavin's ears. I bet she could pick them out of a line up. She is, after all, quite familiar with them. It's a familiarity unmatched by me. I love his ears, of course, just as I love all of him. But I have not spent the time contemplating them like Stacy has. For a while after he was born Stacy would often say how Gavin's ears were her favorite part of him. I think she even had one she liked best, though I can't recall. One of them forms a G, she pointed out. They do not match exactly. I'll tell you one thing, his ears are very soft. It is nearly impossible to hold him and not brush my lips against them over and over. Gavin just might be the most-kissed Bear in the world. He gets many kisses on or around his ears. His neck, for example. I admit that I occasionally worry that I'm wrecking his hearing with all of these kiss sounds resounding in his little ear drums. I hope not. Though, obviously, there are worse ways to go deaf.

Week 10 Day 2: All shook up

Amanda left today to go back to Florida. Alas, Gavin and I will have to go it alone tomorrow. I mean, we can make it and all, it's just sad that Amanda won't be there, too.

Gavin's nap schedule was all messed up today. He ended up taking three naps instead of two. None of them were great. Certainly not those two hour marathons that have happened before and are why I get my hopes up every time. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't love to spend time with my son, it's just he's so much more fun to hang out with when he's had himself some good sleep.

After Amanda left Gavin, Henri, and I went for a walk. It was another beautiful day here. Gavin and I wore sweatshirts, no coats. And I even got too hot for my sweatshirt but did not take it off because I was only wearing a tank-top underneath (well, plus a bra. I have some dignity) and that just wasn't going to happen.

I finally watched last week's episode of The Office where Pam and Jim have their baby. I have to say that it further solidified how lucky Stacy, Gavin and I were to have our own room at the hospital. I can't imagine having to share one of those pull the curtain down the center rooms with another mom and baby. That being said, I think the whole Pam breast feeding the wrong baby thing was a little much. At Beaumont where Gavin was delivered (and where I was also delivered 31 years before him), the babies have little lo-jack sensors on them and the mamas wear a corresponding sensor that chimes when matched with the right baby. Gavin's fell off at one point which got the nurse all worried when she brought him back after taking him to the nursery. But we were never in doubt that it was still the same Gavin all along. I do wish, though, that, like Pam and Jim, someone had come over and torn out our old kitchen cupboards and installed new ones while we were in the hospital. Alas, we do not have friends like Dwight.

Gavin is hooting and hollering right now. It's a little after 10 p.m. I am so fucking tired that just keeping my eyes open to type this is a challenge. We're waiting him out to see if he goes back to sleep on his own, but I'm not holding my breath. I think he's going to need an intervention.

(Later) That was rough going. I am not sure what the little dude's problem is but he was very, very unhappy. I thought maybe he was cold because he wasn't, in my opinion, dressed warmly enough. Do I have to say that Stacy got him ready for bed? I do not have to say this. So that made me plenty annoyed with her. But I was also just frustrated with the situation. All I wanted was Stacy to somehow fix it. And yet, I also felt like she wasn't doing it right when he kept crying. So needless to say I was unhappy. I am not being very coherent here. Let's just say, there are times when -- and I don't think I'm the only parent who does this -- you're tired and crabby and just don't want to deal with your kid(s) any more. What you want is for your co-parent to wave a magic wand and make everyone happy and when she can't do that it feels like a mixture of pain in the ass, incompetence, and betrayal. And it really says more about me than it does about her.

In any case. The best part of the day -- and the part that is a clear indicator to me that things really are quite wonderful by and large, nights like this aside -- was watching Stacy and Gavin dance to "All Shook Up" by Elvis. Stacy had choreographed a few little moves for Gavin and it was pretty much the cutest part ever. She was holding him and they were kind of bopping back and forth and after the "I need love" line she'd freeze and then during "I'm all shook up" she and Gavin would shake back and forth while Stacy bent her knees to get them closer to the ground. I am doing a terrible job explaining it, but it was adorable. Gavin loved it. The pause before the shaking was awesome. You could see him tense in anticipation and then when they shook he smiled and laughed. He is dreamy. Gavin and Stacy are the best dancers ever.

Week 10 Day 1: Spring-like

Week ten? What? Could it really be? Yes. Yes it can.

Today was a beautiful day. Spring-like, even. Amanda held Gavin on the deck while I played fetch with Henri and while Jasper slunk around the yard. Definitely looking forward to warmer weather so that this going outside thing can be a very regular occurrence. Amanda said she thinks I've been kind of cooped up here in the house during the winter and once the weather gets warmer I'll have the whole backyard to take Gavin into. "It doubles your space," she said. She's right, though my house and my yard are really small to start with.

Yesterday Gavin had his first bagel, a teething bagel from New York Bagel in Ferndale. He was not super excited about it. He did a little bit of gnashing his teeth against it, but quickly gave up. Today I gave it back to him and let him have another shot at it. Still not super excited to say the least, but it was distracting enough to him that I had to take it away while I tried to feed him the rest of his meal. Unfortunately I put it where Henri could reach it and Henri and Jasper discovered it at the exact same time causing Henri to lunge for the bagel and Jasper to try to lunge out Henri's way only to knock the bagel into Henri's water bowl. End result: nobody got the bagel. So that experiment failed.

Amanda and I took Gavin to the community center again to the playroom. Last time we went the place was crawling with kids, but today it was completely empty besides the three of us. Gavin had the whole place to himself. But since he has limited mobility he couldn't take full advantage of it. I bounced a playground ball over to him and dribbled it around a bit. He was fascinated. I rolled it over to him and he ran his fingernails over the rubber and rolled it away and tried to get it back. I can't believe I don't have anything like that for him at home. A baby needs a ball. So that's on our shopping list now I don't know why no one was there. I worried that it was closed for some reason and that a center employee was going to come along and kick us out. But no one did. And we were only there for a half hour or so before Gavin started getting cranky. We knew we wouldn't be able to spend lots of time there because Gavin's nap schedule was all out of whack today, but Amanda insisted we go anyway. She was totally right. We needed to get out of the house. Thank God for Amanda. I can't believe she leaves tomorrow. She will be missed. Maybe I need to put a request for a daytime co-mom on Craig's List.

Speaking of thank God for Amanda, I can't really even describe how happy I was to have her here today. I had terrible cramps all day long, my uterus being punished for not having had Gavin inside of it. Gavin doesn't really understand the whole, "Mommy feels like she's being repeatedly kicked in the lady parts by a giant cement boot so why don't you just sit in your play pen and entertain yourself for, oh, the next 8 hours or so." Amanda, ibuprofen, and a half a Vicodin I took at dinner were definitely today's holy trinity. Praise be.

Week 9 Day 5: More holding

Amanda came back from Ann Arbor around noon and her timing was perfect since Gavin was a very unhappy Bear and Amanda brightens him right up. He's very fond of her. He was upset because I was changing his clothes, which is something he finds very unjust these days. He's so, so squirmy on the changing table now. Very uncooperative to say the least. Changing diapers and clothes takes at least twice as long as it did a month ago.

With Amanda back our little stay-at-home contingent was whole again. So we took Gavin on a trip to Target. And the only thing he got was a box of overnight diapers. Because we know how to show a guy a good time. While we were at Target a little girl in a passing cart said to her mother, "That baby is cute!" Only 8 months old and already girls are hitting on my son.

Gavin slept in this morning until 7:15 which was quite wonderful. Tomorrow, Saturday, he will no doubt not sleep in because he doesn't know about weekends. He woke up grumpy from his afternoon nap for some reason even though he'd slept an hour and a half. Two hours would be ideal, but his nap was still pretty good. I tried feeding him and he cried the instant I put him in his high chair. "He needs more holding," I told Amanda. Sometimes he just wants to be held. Can't say I blame him. Later when I returned him to his highchair he didn't complain much and I fed him some applesauce. Stacy was going to be home soon and I figured she'd want to nurse him so I didn't want to give him the full course meal treatment which usually goes like this: First course: oatmeal or rice cereal with breast milk. Second course: Vegetable (carrots or green beans, perhaps). Third course: Fruit (applesauce, prunes, pears, banana, etc.). Occasionally we finish with a piece of teething biscuit in his banana hammock (a.k.a. his Baby Safe Feeder). Gavin has very little patience in between courses, but he also displays a general crabbiness brought on by cold food. So while I am at the microwave heating up his carrots, for instance, I make faces at him or sing to him to try to distract him. This usually works for ten seconds or so.

Amanda and I went out tonight to dinner and a movie, though not in that order. We saw A Single Man (just okay) and ate at Red Robin (also okay). I think that tonight was the first time I've been in a restaurant at night in a long time. Eight months at least. Stacy was sad she wasn't going out, but she wasn't mad or anything. She was also asleep by the time we came home.

Amanda and I just had the following exchange, beginning with her question:
"Aren't you afraid you're going to be tired for the next 18 years?"
"No, I'm positive about it."
"How does that make you feel?"
"Tired."

Week 9 Day 4: Mama's hung

I spent a good bulk of today on auto-pilot, functioning on less than five hours of sleep. I was out last night at the kickoff of Blowout, covering it with my sister for the Metro Times. Amanda went, too, and needless to say this morning's 6 a.m. wake-up-call was very hard on us. Maybe harder on her since she'd been drinking and since she slept on a couch and the person waking her up is not her son (though she does say they are in love, so...). Gavin took it upon himself to wake up extra early today. Ten to six, even. As a rule, unless he's screaming or there's something discernibly wrong, we do not get him before six. It's step one in teaching in Common Human Decency. Often when he wakes up too early he'll call out a little bit and then fall back asleep. Thank god.

Amanda is spending the night in Ann Arbor tonight so Gavin and I won't see her again until tomorrow around noon. It's just not the same without her here and she's been here less than 3 days.

I got an email from my best friend in California today requesting help choosing and Easter basket for her son. She sent me screen shots of several different options. She's really put a lot of thought and effort into this and I have to admit it isn't something I have thought about at all. I don't even know what day Easter falls on this year. I know that one year it was on my birthday. Speaking of which, I just realized that my birthday is in a little more than a month. Woah). We just don't really celebrate it. We're not Christian and we're not into the whole secular Easter thing, either. Stacy does like to color eggs, though. Or at least I remember her wanting to one year. I don't know that we ever have though. In any case, even if we were all about Easter, Gavin is only 8 months old. He doesn't know what the hell Easter is. I don't think he'll feel cheated. But only time will tell. Years from now that could be the one thing he never forgives us for.

Today was a little rocky nap wise and feeding wise. His two naps were over and hour each, but neither one was solid. Some waking and fussing thrown in a few times. When I tried to feed him after his second nap he went bezerk. The only thing he would eat is his carrot goo. I tried to feed him applesauce after the carrots and you would have thought I was trying to make him eat jalapeños by the way he screamed and carried on. I think part of it was that he was tired. I fed him more carrots and then we paced around the house a lot. He wasn't happy in his pen, he wasn't happy in his exersaucer, he wasn't happy on our bed playing with his balloon, he wasn't happy playing in his crib. There really was no pleasing him. We both desperately wanted Stacy to come home.

The thing I like least about Gavin is his propensity for whiplashing his head from side to side while I'm holding him, often resulting in clunking his head against mine. Well today he took it to new levels, slamming his head into my nose. I literally saw stars. It hurt so bad at first I thought it might be broken. But there was no blood and as the stars dissipated the pain did, too. But I still have a hell of a headache. I swear Gavin's skull is made of cement.

Week 9 Day 3: Kid Zone

With Amanda here and all, I've come to the conclusion after today that I very much like having a co-housewife. It's a really wonderful thing to have someone who can keep an eye on Gavin so that I can pee without having to leave the door open so that I can peek out at my exersaucing Bear in the living room. He's liking having his moms out of his sight less and less these days.

Our big adventure today was to go to the Ferndale Community Center's Kid Zone. At least I think it's called Kid Zone. Something like that, anyway. Amanda, Gavin and I spent about an hour or so in a gigantic playroom filled with other romping kids and a million toys (the toy selection was very heavy on dinosaurs and trucks). Gavin was, I think, the youngest kid there. Not the smallest, mind you. There were several kids walking around who were barely his size. He's not yet at a "plays with other" stage in his recreational development. He was perfectly content to sit between Amanda and I on one of the very colorful rugs and play with toys brand new to him. And by "play with" I largely mean put them in his mouth. I think he liked that other kids were there, though. At least, he would occasionally regard a fellow child with a cool, gap mouthed stare or look toward the direction of particularly raucous behavior. One girl, who was considerably older than Gavin, yelled, "Ahhh dinosaur!" and threw a solid rubber Triceratops at us. It was heavy, too. I did not witness the throwing, Amanda did, I saw only the toy landing on the rug next to me. I'm very happy she didn't hit Gavin. This same girl was later stalking through the room with an armful of plastic bowling pins in primary colors screaming, "I have these! I have these!" When she shouted this into the face of boy younger than her who I am guessing was her brother, he said, "Okay." As the saying goes, "One little girl's plastic bowling pins are another kid's who-gives-a-shits."

One little boy with very ruddy cheeks kept trying to give Gavin toys. He toddled over with a basketball for Gavin and dropped it on Gavin's head. His dad was very embarrassed. "He's just trying to share," he said (the dad, not the kid. The kid never said anything either due to shyness or ability). He also said the boy was, I think, 15 months old. Maybe 18. The boy later came back with a blue ball made of blow-molded plastic. Gavin didn't even look up, so the boy gave it to me, instead. He then took the mallet from the alligator xylophone next to Gavin and put it in his mouth. Soon after I went to retrieve a Kleenex from my coat and when I returned Amanda said that Gavin, too, had put the mallet in his mouth. And it wasn't long before another child, a girl who had a strawberry on her face rather than, like Gavin, on his head came over and repeated the mallet in the mouth trick. There's a big blue bin in the room that says "Put used/dirty toys here" so I made sure that the xylophone made its way in. I don't know what they do with the toys in that box. I'm assuming they clean them. Or maybe they set them on fire. I mean, kids are gross. Why take a chance? I'm definitely bringing an entire container of germ wipes on our next visit.

The grownups there mostly kept to themselves, except for one woman who wouldn't stop talking to me. She introduced herself and her daughter but I can't remember either of their names. She was, as Amanda said, "An over-sharer." She also asked me many personal questions that I chose to give very vague answers to. I mentioned something about my wife which prompted her to ask, "So whose baby is he?" to which I replied, "Both of ours. He's my son. He's her son." When she asked who carried him I relented and told her that my wife did. She then asked if I ever planned on carrying a baby myself, a question I thought was a little too forward for someone I've just met and have already concluded is not all there (of course, the later explains the former). I told her I didn't know. That Gavin was only 8 months, after all, so we were kind of concentrating on him. She also asked how his delivery was. "Well, he's alive and she's alive," I said. "So I'd say it went pretty well." She's laid off, I'm laid off. I have a feeling I'll be seeing her there a lot.

Week 9 Day 2: Dessert for diner

I have the song "Ticket to Ride" stuck in my head. And I am very, very tired. But Amanda is here so it's all good. It feels like she never left. Gavin digs her, too.

Still a good amount of grumpiness from Mr. Bear today, but I am not so sure that he's getting sick, as was my worry yesterday. Maybe it's the teething. But I don't see any evidence of new teeth besides the four currently residing in his gums.

His afternoon nap was terrible. I put him to bed at about 1:10 and he talked and talked and did some low voltage hollering. Not crying, mind you, so I saw no reason or point in intervening. I can't force the kid to shut his eyes and going in there would have guaranteed tears as soon as I left. A little after 2 I did try to resoothe him because by then he's started crying. There were some short bursts of quiet so I reckon he did get some sleep, but not much. He is a lot like his Mommy Stacy when he doesn't get sleep. Grouchy and unhappy. When I finally released him from his nap time purgatory he seemed relieved, albeit a touch manic.

He ate well all day until his last feeding. I tried to feed him oatmeal and he cried. Now, I don't know if you've ever cried with a mouth full of oatmeal -- and by crying I mean the kind of crying that involves open mouthed vocalization -- but it is not a good idea. It is, at best, messy. It is pathetically, pathetically sad when a baby does it. Specifically my baby. I also fed him peas -- knowing, of course, his feelings on this matter. More tears. So after a spoonful or two of these rejected items, I busted out the applesauce. This he ate. Not as robustly as usual, and not without some fussing. But he was at least eating something. Stacy was due home in a half hour and I knew she'd want to nurse him as soon as she got in the door (big surprise: after she nursed him she said, "He was really hungry"). I figured my best bet was to keep him happy and occupied during this time. So after his applesauce I gave him a teething biscuit to eat out of his baby safe feeder. So, essentially, I gave my son dessert for diner. #1 Mom in the U.S.A.

Stacy just came home from parent teacher conferences and she brought me the best present ever. She found it at Meijer. If I ever need to be reminded why I love this woman, I now have ten more reasons. I can't wait to start doing puppet shows for Gavin.

Week 9 Day 1: Gap toothed

Gavin's sleeping was pretty crappy all weekend. I've had a cold and yesterday Stacy was in bed with some kind of stomach ailment. Food poisoning is our best guess. I'm a little worried he might be coming down with something and so isn't sleeping well as a result.

Stacy was home with us for the morning because she called in sick. She felt really terrible yesterday. If I needed any proof it was when she asked me to get her white grape juice at the grocery store. Stacy doesn't drink juice normally. And when she does drink juice it's, like, pure cranberry juice or something.

Gavin wasn't the most cooperative eater yesterday, either. For me anyway. I think because Stacy was home he was all, "Why would I want to eat rice cereal when Boobie Cafe is in the next room?" She was only with us half the day, though. She felt so much better she went into work for the second half of the day.

Amanda came over yesterday before heading to class. She stops by pretty frequently which is good since Gavin is entering that stage where he's leery of new folk. When I take him to the store and stuff he does not flash his wonderful little smile at people. Instead he regards them with slack-jawed awe. This is not gratifying for the folks who coo at him and say things like, "Look at those beautiful blue eyes." I know I love it when babies I don't know smile at me. Eventually my son will return that karmic favor to the world.

Gavin's two bottom teeth are super prominent now and his two top teeth aren't far behind. He's got a really big space between his two front teeth. Stacy said she had a similar space when she was little, but then she got braces. Her teeth are perfect now. Maybe Gavin will have to have braces, too. When I said something about Gavin's gap-toothed smile Amanda responded with, "I'm sorry I called you a gap-toothed bitch. It's not your fault you're so gap-toothed." It's from Mean Girls, a movie I saw and thought was way over hyped even if I do think Tina Fey is hot. Amanda memorizes movie dialog like she's a savant. She also does spot-on impressions of everyone in our family. This already includes Gavin.

Amanda Carver arrives tomorrow afternoon. I am super excited. I wonder if Gavin will remember her. They met at Christmas. In Florida. At Stacy's mom's house. Amanda lives in Florida. So does Stacy's mom. Though not together. That would be weird.