Grandpa Mike came over today with the dogs, Louie and Charlie. His dogs are kind of insane, especially Louie, a pug, but still sweet. Gavin loved them, though. He was so excited, squeaking and squawking and jumping up and down. Much like Louie, in fact. Grandpa Mike and the dogs were going to the Detroit Humane Society, where Louie and Charlie both came from, to meet their potential new brother, a chihuahua-mix named "Rocket," no doubt named after the Def Leppard song because of how chihuahuas are notorious hair metal fans.
Damn it, now that song is stuck in my head. And I have no idea what they're saying after, "Rocket, yeah..." It sounds like "Lady lie-dy loo." Probably that's it exactly.
Grandpa Mike also brought some early birthday presents for Gavin. Not sure what the hurry was, exactly, but Gavin now has a circus animal shapes waffle maker. Because that's what every one-year-old needs. Well, we never did get a wipes warmer, so maybe this thing can work in his room after all. I'm kidding. It's a very sweet gift and my dad is excited to make waffles for Gavin. I have never been excited to make waffles for anyone in my life, but making food for Gavin is often very gratifying. Not always, mind you. But he's open to a lot of new things right now. I know once he's a toddler that all shuts down and he will subsist on a diet of white bread and American cheese slices, but for now he's a little foodie.
Gavin and I did, indeed, go to get the van's oil changed as I said yesterday we would. It was very exciting for him. Okay, probably not true. But it was a new experience. As for me, I always feel like the guys at the oil change place try to sell you every service they offer by telling you the various fluids in your engine "look dark," and I do my best not to look like a sucker. Except today. Having never taken the van in to get the oil changed before (Stacy has always done it because she is the one who used to drive it all the time) I couldn't find the latch to pop the hood. "Unlock the door and I'll do it for you," the guy said. And so I did and in reached his very dirty and very greasy hand and arm too close for comfort to my bare leg (I was wearing shorts. I wasn't naked or anything. Because I'm sure you needed me to clarify) and pulled the latch located much lower than I would have expected it. And then I didn't know my own license plate number. "And that, Son, is how you look like a sucker at the oil change place."
In mobility news, Gavin is walking on his own, just a couple steps at a time. Before he's only walked when prompted by me or Stacy. Otherwise he'll scale the edges of furniture and crawl or use his walker. But today he was standing up holding onto the leg of his crib and he wanted to be in front of the nursing chair where I was sitting. And so he just let go. And stood there for a moment, before taking one then two steps to get to the chair. He did the same thing from the chair to the bookcase.
When Stacy came home from work today we hung out together with the bear in his room. The two of them were playing "monster baby," in which Gavin "attacks" the grown-up who is prone on the ground. Watching them roll around together was adorable. Gavin was cracking up. Stacy and I are both so in love with him. I can't even imagine a more beautiful little boy.
So apparently I'm going to be rich. Or at least raking in the dough. That's according to a Channel 4 story from Click On Detroit about mom bloggers. I'm not sure what the point of their story is. Are they encouraging moms to get out on the blogosphere (a stupid term) and get they blog on? Or is it more of a "Believe it or not there are actually people who want to hear what mommy-brained ladies have to say. Aren't women cute?" thing. Oh, TV news, with your finger on the pulse of fluff pieces. Thank goodness there isn't anything actually going on in the world worth knowing about. Blog on, ladies!
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