Tuesday, Oct. 26: Dancing Bear

Gavin is, at long last, dancing. This is pretty much a dream come true for me. I don't know that there is anything cuter than a baby dancing, nor a more perfect picture of uninhibited movement. Gavin is, of course, not a good dancer, and by "good" I mean he knows no moves besides movement itself and rhythm is periphery. However, I argue that he is a perfect dancer, unburdened by self-consciousness and the shackles of rhythmic expectation. And did I mention how cute it is? I have been waiting for Gavin to dance for what seems like forever. Lisa's son has been dancing since before his first birthday. He's six weeks older than Gavin so for the past several months I figured that any day now Gavin would shake his groove thing. (Cue Etta James here.) The first song I saw him dance to was one of the tunes from his Chicco rucksack toy (a toy that I think is dumb, but I got on mega-clearance at Borders last year and he likes it okay). I wasn't quite sure if what I saw him doing was dancing or if he'd just momentarily lost his balance. So I brought him out in the living room and played Huey Lewis and the News "I Want a New Drug." Sure enough, that was dancing. Mind you he was at all times preoccupied with something else when he was shakin' what his mamas gave him, but I just take that to mean he's a multitasker and the music's in him. Today he danced to several Robyn songs and a little Saint Etienne that Laura put on.

Gavin does not sing yet, however. I assure you that when he does part of my heart and brain will simultaneously implode. Unless, of course, I have some kind of cuteness overload relief valve -- and come to think of it I must otherwise I would have imploded a long time ago.

Waving is still Gavin's favorite skill of choice. He waves at everyone (unless prompted. Then he won't. He has to feel it. Waving can't be forced). Today he even waved at Jon Stewart. Yes, of the Daily Show fame. No, Jon Stewart wasn't in our home nor are we letting Gavin watch TV. However, Laura was sitting on the couch watching a clip from The Daily Show on the computer. Gavin and Stacy were also on the couch, though Gavin was preoccupied with Stacy on the other end. At some point the computer screen caught his eye and he ended up right next to Laura and he started to wave at Jon Stewart. More than once. Laura also said that he waved at some Fox News commentator who was also on the screen briefly (and let's be honest, he probably didn't deserve it). Stacy surmised that perhaps since Gavin Skypes with his Granny Marilyn that's where he got the idea that moving images on the computer of people talking equals an interactive experience. In any case, Laura swears it was adorable and I have no doubt. None.

Speaking of adorable, Gavin had his school picture taken yesterday. We sent him to day care with a long sleeved button down shirt and a neck tie. Shelly, his day care teacher, reported that he looked very handsome. She also told Stacy that she almost had to be in our son's picture because Gavin wasn't all that wild about picture day and didn't want her to put him down. Probably if he could have had time to acclimate he would have been fine, but school photo day waits for no one. They've got a lot of kids to cycle through there. In any case, she said she managed to not only put him down long enough for a photo to be taken, but she also got a tiny smile out of him. I can't wait to see that picture.

I'm proud to report that Gavin has not peed through his clothes for the past two nights. The week before that was another, sadder, story. Basically he had a cold and so was drinking a lot and peeing. A lot. And his diapers (at the time Pampers Baby Dry, which are supposed to last 12 hours but do not) just couldn't handle it. One of the things I was making him were Baby Arnold Palmers, which is half water, half white grape juice (Stacy read somewhere that white grape juice is more nutritional or something than the standard kiddie choice, apple juice. I honestly can't remember why). He likes those a lot. He doesn't get a lot of sugar. So when he, say, eats bananas, he goes nuts. I have to slice up and quarter bananas and then slowly dole the pieces out or he will shove fistful after fistful into his maw like a savage animal. It's both fascinating and obscene.

And now I must go make Gavin's lunch even though it is part 9 p.m. and I am exhausted already. I'll probably just throw some snack-size Butterfingers and juice box in his lunch bag and call it a night. I'm beat.