Saturday, Sept. 4, 2010: He's a shoe-in

Gavin has a thing for shoes lately. In fact, yesterday he performed an act so amazing it rivals David Copperfield. Let me start from the beginning. He loves to go outside. One of his favorite words, next to "dog," is "outside," which he usually accompanies by slapping his palms against the sliding glass door that leads to our deck. "Outside" sounds more like "outs" but he usually says it twice, "outs outs." We're not sure if that means he's saying "outside" twice in a row -- you know, for emphasis -- or if "outside" = "outs outs." I'm thinking the later because that seems to be the pattern. Also, once he is outside, he'll sometimes go up to the fence, shake the gate door, and say "outs outs." Because he wants his freedom, damn it, and if he doesn't get it he'll scream.

And oh, how he screams. He's just getting into this new hobby so I have no doubt he has not yet reached the outer horizons of his screaming abilities. But he's working up to it. He's a willful little dude and when he doesn't get what he wants he gets super pissed. Sometimes he doesn't get what he wants because we say no and other times it's because we just don't know what he wants. He does not like to be misunderstood. And yet most of what he says is still largely unintelligible and he's not that great at charades. But he understands so much of what we say.

And here's where the magic part comes in. He wants to go outside and Stacy says something like, "Okay, but we need to get your shoes. Maybe they're in the diaper bag." So she's in the hallway looking in the diaper bag when he lumbers past her into his bedroom. She says, "Well, they're not in your diaper bag," and as she turns to him he is coming out of his room, the drawer where we keep his shoes and socks is open, and he has the very pair of sandals she was looking for in his hands. Stacy said she got chills. Now, this might not seem amazing to someone who doesn't have kids, but as a parent, it's like child rearing gold, Helen Keller at the well type stuff.

So, yes, shoes. He's into them. He likes to have me or Stacy put his shoes on and take them off and then put them on again and then take them off times infinity. When he wants a shoe on he brings it to you, puts it in your hand, and then lifts his foot up. He can get his shoes off himself, but he needs time and patience and motivation to work at it -- like in the car, for example. If you put that boy in his car seat with shoes and socks on he will be barefoot by the time you reach your destination. He even did this in the winter. But the "shoes on/shoes off" game doesn't allow for such deliberation. I think because he's studying the process. He wants to be an observer, not a participant -- an observer who is dictatorially in charge, mind you.

His vocabulary is increasing. "Down" is a new word on the menu. "All done" is sounding like one, too. Stacy said after he was through eating once, "All done?" And he repeated it, though he hasn't used it in proper context since.

On Wednesday I took Gavin to his first day at daycare. I have never dropped him off before, Stacy has always done it, so I didn't know what the protocol and stuff was, which made me feel anxious. But the ladies there are super nice. They also all wear sweatpants, which I had never seen before since I've never been there while they were on the job, so to speak. But it makes sense if you're going to be crawling after infants all day. In any case, when I opened the door one of his caretakers who knew him when he was in daycare previously from months 3, 4, and 5, called out, "Gavin!" And other caretakers shouted hello and exclaimed about how big he was and whatnot. Gavin stood frozen in the doorway not sure what to make of all this. His reaction was akin to walking into a surprise party full of people you don't know when it isn't your birthday. But I nudged him in further and encouraged him to go on in and it didn't take long before he made a beeline for the toys and while I was shown what to do with the snack I packed him (sweet potato goo and baked tofu squares) and how to sign him in and all of that he didn't even look up at me or at anybody else. He was just concentrating on playing. I went over to him and gave him a kiss and told him that I would see him later and it wasn't until I was actually leaving, the door almost closed, that I saw him through the window next to the door get up and start walking after me. It took everything in me not to press my face and hands against the glass like you see people do in prison visitation scenes in movies.

I was only gone for a couple of hours. He'd gone in late and was picked up early, so really it was just a taste of what daycare will be like starting this coming Wednesday. When I came to pick him up he was crying. A lady I didn't recognize was holding him. He'd fallen and bumped his head (something he does a lot. He's got a couple of good bruises on his forehead right now, one from falling ass over elbows at Babies R Us while pushing a popcorn popper thing and the other from the following day at the neighborhood playground). On his daily report sheet under "Today I was feeling" there was a mark next to "Happy," but written next to that was "+ sad." But the overall report was that he was fine, and he'll adjust. By the time I came to get him he was super tired. As soon as we got home he took a really long nap. I'm hoping he eventually gets that exhausted while actually at daycare and naps there, too.

Daycare will be a big adjustment for Gavin. And for me. I wish he could just continue to get exclusively Mama D Care, but Mama D needs to work. I am going to miss being home with him. Yesterday I went to campus to get stuff ready for the semester and I was there all day. Since I work in Ann Arbor I'm a good 45 minutes in perfect traffic away from home. By the time I came home Gavin had gone to bed. That's what Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are going to be like for me for the next three and a half months. And it didn't feel good.