Gavin called me "D'Anne" today instead of Mama D (which he, of course, pronounced "Dirt"). He was in the bath tub swimming (yes, swimming. After a bath now he likes to flop onto his tummy in the tub and kick his feet and swim, occasionally putting his face in the water -- usually just his chin and mouth) and when I walked into the bathroom he looked at me and said, "D'Anne" (pronounced more or less like "Dan"). I said, "What? D'Anne?" and he said it again and then he pointed at Stacy and said, "Mommy." I was genuinely surprised and something along the lines of hurt. "You mean "Mama D?" I asked him. He nodded. "Say Mama D," I instructed. He said "Dan" again. So basically I'm his step-dad now. I'm kidding. I knew he would one day stop calling me "Dirt" (which hasn't actually happened yet. After his bath he told Stacy he wanted to "say hi Dirt"). But being called "Mama D" is just more endearing than being called "D'Anne." By my son, I mean. Everyone else just stick with "D'Anne," please.
I just got off the phone with Lisa and she informed me that her son, Brenden (who is 6 weeks older than Gavin), has 87 pairs of shorts. This does not include his 13 swim trunks. That's 100 short sleeved pants. And these are all pants that currently fit him, not pants that he's outgrown or that are too big yet. Mind you, Lisa loves clothes, but this is kind of insane. For comparison, Gavin has 10 pairs of shorts and 3 swim trunks. Considering how quickly kids get clothes dirty, this actually feels kind of like a bare minimum to me. Between food and dirt and markers and whatever else he manages to get into we are constantly washing his clothes. It's also perhaps an important distinction that Lisa lives in California where the shorts-wearing season is much, much longer than in Michigan. Still. Even Lisa admits she kind of went overboard in the shorts department.
Brenden also has a copious supply of underwear. He's only 6 weeks older than Gavin but he's already potty trained. This is really impressive in my opinion. We still haven't had any more potty usage over here. Gavin is very much still in diapers (totally normal, mind you). Lisa said he has about 40 pairs of underwear. She literally bought them in this quantity thinking that they would be essentially disposable. Well, some of them, anyway. "Because I had anticipated accidents," she said. Specifically poo accidents. "If we're out and about I'm just going to cut them off of him and throw them away. Once he was out of diapers, I put a pair of scissors in the diaper bag and three or four extra pair of underwear." For the record, Brenden's never had a poo accident and he's only had 6 accidents since he traded diapers for underwear at Easter. I'm really curious to see what will happen when we go to Mexico (we're going to Cancun with Lisa and Brenden) and Gavin sees Brenden being all Mr. Cool Potty. Maybe he will be inspired to try it himself. Not that I exactly want to be potty training Gavin while we are on vacation. Whatever happens, we'll roll with it.
While Brenden is advanced in the potty area, Gavin talks more than he does. So clearly the boys have different priorities when it comes to expending their energy.
Gavin's birthday was the 20th. I was really stressed out about it, but it went off rather well if you don't count him falling backwards and landing on his head on a tile floor. And then shortly after that a younger guest in a high chair doing essentially the same thing after his sister tried to climb the back of his high chair. No major head injuries were sustained, however. It's ironic that both of these incidents happened while we were eating since we held the party at Pump It Up in Auburn Hills. The first hour and a half was spent running and jumping and bouncing and sliding and aside from some painful slide burns (sustained mainly by the adults), no one got hurt until we sat down to have snacks and cake. Gavin fell off the picnic style bench when he tipped his head back to drink water from a cup. The sound of his head hitting the linoleum was one of the worst things I have ever heard (if only he had been wearing the inflatable Pump It Up crown he was given!). I was on the other side of the room when it happened. Stacy was behind him but it happened very fast. It was difficult not to be mad at her and not to be mad at myself as if I would have been able to stop it had I been sitting by him. In any case, he cried very hard, ice was applied to his head, and then he ate cupcakes and was happy. He had so much fun playing beforehand. He's a really brave little dude. He climbed up to the slide himself and went down by himself. He scaled the little climbing wall thing like a champion spider monkey. He got a boost the first time from our friends Megan and Jim, but after that he was all about doing it himself.
We went to a Pump It Up party around Christmas last year and Gavin loved it, which is why we decided to do his party there. For one thing, last year it was really hot and rainy on Gavin's birthday and I didn't want a repeat of last year (a planned outdoor party turned into an indoor party in our very small house) especially since our kitchen still is not done. I did definitely notice the wear and tear that has been inflicted on the inflatables since then. But the kids didn't notice or care. They all had a lot of fun. The next morning Gavin said, "Go Pump Up again." He mentioned nothing about the head bump.
We also raised about $100 for ReGAP, Retired Greyhounds As Pets, the organization Laura adopted Emma from nearly 14 years ago. If anyone still wants to donate to them in honor of Gavin and in memory of Emma, it's never too late.
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