Today

Today Tim was grousing about how nappy looking my feet were, what with chipped toenail polish and callouses, so I said "Ok! I'm going to go get a pedicure then!" And so I did. And it was heavenly. My paddies are now soft and freshly french-manicured and my calves are well massaged. Sigh of bliss. I do believe this experience may need an encore.

Here are my buddies today:


















This is Gabe swinging at our neighbor's house. Sweet baby boy!















I purchased a sprinkler for dual purposes today. 1. Water crunchy brown grass so house appears purchaseable. And 2. Every boy needs a sprinkler to run through!!















Here was Israel watching all the action.















And here was Israel folded over checking out his bouncer. What a cutie pie.

Oh. My.

There are some days whilst raising small children that you feel the thin, thin edge between your brain on sanity and your brain off sanity. The baby has been asleep for one hour. The two year old needs to go take a nap. So he pounds noisily down the hall, pausing to trip twice into a “OOh. AAh.” football roll one thin layer of pressed wood door away from the sleeping baby in the crib. That accomplished, he pounds on into his room, with noisy exclamations, then proceeds to make his mommy make multiple entries into the room to stop the drumming, to stop the driving of school buses and trucks, to “put my covers on”, to “get me some water”…of course to change the poopy diaper. Not to mention the room exits that are following by the stampede back into his room, along with the loud “BANG” of the door against the wall. Your brain starts quivering with enraged despair as you picture the baby waking up (how could he NOT?), along with Gabe not sleeping…and all you wanted was a little bit of time to sit down and check email…a quiet moment in a busy day. Then throw in the fact that Gabe does NOT understand about why we need to whisper sometimes, but seems to instead bellow louder at those times….oh my. Along with the fact that when he gets tired, he tries to work himself up, and gets loud and throws himself around noisily and clumsily and loudly trips over everything within a 10 foot radius. I’ve been exercising my “rage-containing” muscles today. He’s not being bad, he’s just being a 2 ½ year old boy child. Breathe. Breathe. You learn those breathing labor pants for a lifetime of laborious child raising. Whoo-whoo-ha-ha…

Freedom and things

We let the bunny go yesterday. We scrambled through the little “woods” area behind our house to let him go on the other side in an empty lot. He scurried happily into the tangle of growth surrounding him, pausing for a snack or two. We were very happy that he did so well, and didn’t go the way of many baby bunnies in captivity.

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In Israel news, he has been very happily transitioned into the world of “real food” as per infuriated insistence on his part. He is happiest with the food on his tray, where he can pick it up and put it into his own mouth. Gives us a nice break, too. I’m still breastfeeding too, but less. He also continues to improve on his sitting skills. Along with the s-l-o-w-l-y cutting his two top teeth. They are taking forever to get through. Thankfully, they are not accompanied with the profound amount of drool the lower two teeth swam in on.

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Gabe informed me the other night that “there is the moon and there is Gott (God) and Jesus on the moon” which transitioned into some sort of commentary about God’s mommy…hmm. Theology needs a little work, but hey. We're getting there! :)

He is also starting to apologize – “Oh! I’M sohwy, Mommy!!” The other day he wanted to go outside, and was quite cranky when I told him “No”, and then he came out with me to get something and when he heard thunder he said “Oh! Itz gonna wain!! I’m sohwy Mommy!! I’m sohwy!” Sweetheart.

This is him today playing with his tractor. He calls it "mowing" when he drives his tractor on the grass. He also makes little "mmmmm, mmmmmm" engine noises and the occasional "beep! beep! beep!"

Chillin's and such

Gabe and Israel having a grand ol' time in Israel's crib. Israel was issuing many chuckles of delight.














Is that a sweet little smile or what?!



















Gabe and me after work tonight. Notice he is freshly shorn. :)





































Today when Tim went in to get Israel out of his crib this morning, he found him sitting up! :) What a growin' man.

When "If Only"'s Come to Sweet, Sweet Fruitition

The past while, a frequent, wistful daydream of mine involves a quiet, dimly lit room, a soft bed with comfy covers, an empty, silent house, and the soothing whir of a fan. And the freedom to close my eyes and sleep as long as I want, with no one wanting me to do ANYTHING. This morning as the phone woke me up from a deep, heavy sleep with a recorded message for some travel nurse agency (why oh why do they persist in calling me, for like 2 years!!!), which woke the baby up, which woke Gabe up...and the day was begun, I lay with my eyes closed, picturing a quiet, whirring room where nobody needed me, and I could just turn over and go back to sleep.

Instead, today Israel took 30 minute naps, and I dragged myself around feeling so exhausted, when - lo and behold it was 3 PM, and Gabe went to his room and lay down and fell asleep all on his own. And then Israel was rubbing his eyes, and was down by 3:30 PM, and so I slunk into my little couch bed that I hadn't the heart to put away this morning, and after making myself close my book, laying and listening to the screen door creak and groan and finally dragging myself up to close it, and then nursing Israel back to sleep, I slept like a heavily drugged rock from 4:30 to 6:30, when Gabe Son began meowing and moaning for "milk! MILK!!! MIIIIILLLK!!!" (This child is fast on his way to learning that things don't always come when you yell loud and demand it.) So anyways. That was certainly my blessing of the day!! And I woke up feeling GREAT!!! And it's 11:41 PM, and I feel GREAT!!! :) And WIDE AWAKE!!! Coffee, anyone?!

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Gabe loves getting hold of the Tim's tube of Vaseline Intensive Lip Therapy and slathering it on his own supposedly parched little baby mouth. Today he was hauling it around importantly, and I noticed that he was on the ground, trying to catch Chloe, saying "C'oe! Do you need some'tin for your lips, Co'e?"

"Gabe", I said, hiding a smile. "Chloe's OK. She doesn't need things on her lips."

He looked at me wide-eyed, and said with great surprise - "She doesn't?"

Aways looking out for the Jack Russell lip hydration status. That's my boy.

6 Years and Countin'

Six years of marital bliss (with the occasional spat thrown in here and there for good measure)...two kids, 1 dog, 1 bunny, 1 house (for sale)...and here we are. Life is good and we are happy.
















So, to celebrate our aforementioned six years of marital bliss, I was diagnosed with sinusitis and honked the day away in a myriad of wadded up Puffs Plus with Lotion (an essential for every sore nose) with my Oil of Olay lotion bottle at the ready to smear on in large quantities. My entire face ached; my jaw is popping and my eyes were hurting when I chewed...such a nice time. We went out on our very first date since Israel was born, and left the chillins' with our friend Jen Sipe to go out for Indian food, then to the guitar store (yawn), and then to the mall. It was very nice. Unfortunately, I couldn't taste a thing due to my cold. Huff. I soldiered my way on through the meal, however, and enjoyed the sight, if not the taste. It all looked so tasty...

8 Months

• Not a whole lot different from 7 months, truthfully!


• Added "Ba-ba-ba-ba" to his repetoire.


• Can sit for a brief time, unaided, but you really have to watch him, because he'll throw himself back, forward, or to the side with no warning.
• Rocks on hands and knees


• Still mostly breastfed


• 23.8 pounds (with his diaper on), 29 inches


• Stands for a bit when you hold his hands, and really enjoys it


• Starting to vocally INSIST that he needs "real" food too when everybody else is eating around him. He does very well with ground up food, and likes the Lil' Graduates Fingerfood snacks, and plays with them when they are on his tray, but doesn't put them in his mouth yet.


• Sucks his forefinger when he is sleepy


• Really likes to be held because he likes to see what is going on


• Still has just 2 teeth


• Such an endearing, cheerful personality, who is so ready to smile

Today

It's been so nice and warm out. We've been spending so much time outside. Here's my buddy boys today.

This evening I took Gabe and Israel to the library where they were having a petting zoo. Gabe liked that very much, although he was a bit consternated by the squawking cockatoo.



























I love this picture. Gabe likes to get in the stroller basket. Two boys in one stroller.

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Today I was talking to Mom on the phone and telling her that we got a babysitter so that we can go out for our first date since Israel was born on Saturday night. "That sounds like fun!" she said. "What else are you planning to do for your anniversary." There was a pause where I blinked in confusion. "Anniversary? What anniversar-ohhhhh!!!!!" Saturday is our sixth anniversary. Completely forgot. Worked out quite well, though! :) I'm glad there is someone around to help me remember these things! :)

On the Move

So I have always loathed the idea of anyone in my family riding a motorcycle. I have always thanked the Lord that Tim isn’t remotely interested in purchasing one; I have shied away from buying Gabe any toy motorcycle that might rev up any interest in the subject that could possibly fan into passionate interest in his older years. I have worked with too many patients who are way too young to not be able enjoy the full use of their limbs after an episode with a motorcycle. Still. I must admit. After waiting at the stoplight beside the red motorcycle with the fat wheels, Trusty Ol’ beside Crotch Rocket 65, I did experience some fluttering, flashing licks of envy as he roared away down the road when the light turned green, leaving me in his dust, flying through the warm summer air…and I thought “Mebbe I need me one of them motorcycles”. I pictured myself zipping to and from work, able to go 0-60 in precious few seconds (this was truthfully one of my top interests), getting off that line and down the road, and paying minimal gas for it. I am not one of those individuals that enjoy the commute. I want to be there already, come on now. With one of those little motorcycles, I could just whip between offending cars and whiz my happy little way down the road. Wistful sigh. Such are the dreams of Carrie.

Of course, then there’s that other little dream where I have my rocket car. I glide smoothly down the highway – and when I come upon that white sedan driving 7 mph below the speed limit while talking on their cell phone? Why, I simply pull back gently on my steering wheel, and the nose of my car angles up, up, up towards the sky, and I roar (elegantly) over the cars on the road, soaring above the telephone lines, arriving at my destination in record time and with nothing to stop me. Cutting smoothly through the air in my little silver bullet rocket car, eyes narrowed intelligently, knifing into a sharp turn, all sharp efficiency. Bliss. Wistful sigh.

Be that as it may, I love being around my family too much to risk the motorcycle. And can not, at least this year, afford the rocket car. So I will putter along in my blue minivan, just dreaming. Honk if I’m in your way.

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So he’s in his crib and he’s on his hands and knees. And he’s rocking, back and forth, back and forth. And now he’s screaming in exhausted rage, because he can’t figure out how to get DOWN so he can go to sleep. Such is a day in the life of a 7-month 3-weeker. Soon, my friends, very soon…my child will be in the move, on the move…

Life

Events of today.

Got up at 3:05AM to feed crying baby. Slunk exhausted body back into blessed bed. Furrowed brow with closed eyes as baby reawoke. Got up at 3:12 to feed the crying baby. Dozed over nursing child. Creaked noisily back to bed…laid down…got up at 3:24 to feed the crying baby. Right eye beginning to develop a nervous twitch. Realized one eye has remained shut this entire time retaining the feeling of half-sleep. Clicked the doorknob on the way out the door…got up at 3:30 to feed the crying baby. Baby finally asleep. Hugging pillow fondly to self when raise eyes to see tow-headed young child sleepily padding from his room after all the baby crying woke him up. Back up to get milk for said dear one. It is now 3:40AM. And down once more. Up again at 5:45. Alarm sounds at 5:55 AM. Time to go to work. Is this sick or what?

While I was slavering away on the old work horse, our toilet geysered heights of pure, clean, fragrant toilet water onto our ceiling and throughout the bathroom as sewer workers opened the clogged sewer line between our house and the neighbors. Yummy.

Complaint.

APPARENTLY, having a “sand-pool” on our carport is the equivalent of pouring continuous little trails of sand in our home, particularly since one of Gabe’s favorite activities is dumping sand outside the sandbox onto the concrete, which is immediately tracked inside. For some reason, I never even thought about this. I do not like this new development, and must contemplate on how to manage this.

Update.

Israel is still a happy little munchkin. He has been sucking his first and second fingers when he is tired or going to sleep. It’s so cute I have to make sure I get a picture. At night when I’m feeding him he can scarcely nurse what for ogling the lights on the fan/heater that is on the floor in his room. What a doof. Eat eat eat – and then his head whips around and he stares and stares at the light, head bobbing sleepily, and then he utters a sigh and goes back for a few more swallows – and then his groggy attention goes back to the light.

Gabe is growing and sick at the same time. Cough and lethargy. I can’t believe how tall he is getting. Next he’s going to be eight. We just realized that the daughter of one of our friends around here, who was two (Gabe’s age) when we first got to know them, is now EIGHT. What in the world. That was such a short time ago! Next I’m going to be 47 and my kids are going to be all grown up!!!! Ok, I’m not quite ready to think about this. Moving on.

Bunny.

Is thriving, fat, and feisty. Is drinking his milk out of a peanut butter lid and gulping down the clover. He lets me rearrange things in his cage while I am fixing his food and water and formula, not seeming to mind as my hand almost grazes him, but hops and jumps indignantly all over his cage if I extend a solitary finger and try to pet him. I am growing quite attached to my bunny child. Chloe, on the other hand, does not for the life of her understand why we are now keeping moist little tender tidbits of hopping, skittering snack foods in cages on the freezer. And out of her reach! The injustice!

Ga-BISH!!!

“Gabe, do you want to watch music or football (X-Box ESPN) while Mommy puts baby Israel to sleep?”

“I wan’ to watch muse-git (music)!”

“Ok – do you want to watch The Newboys, or do you want to watch this one (Passion ’06) – or Eric Johnson?”

“Uummmm. I wan’ to watch Da Boyz!!”

“You want to watch The Newsboys?”

“I need Da Boyz!!” Pause, and furrowed brow – “Whey’s de ga-maok? (remote)”

Music videos and my son. Oh, my. My son can talk to you about Eric Clapton, Eric Johnson, Buddy Guy, Bebe King, John Mayer, and James Taylor – mostly from a Crossroads Festival DVD that Tim has that my 2 year child has studied intensively, absorbing drum beats and guitar shenanigans that only a die-hard music nut/blues fan can truly appreciate. He grips his drumstick and “Dee dee GA BISH!!!!”’s away, lost in drum-land. Or man-handles his little “electric” guitar, strumming wildly and energetically to the music he hears, guitar neck rising and falling, head bobbing on the beat. What child is this that I have birthed? Methinks he is indeed a child of his father’s heart! :)

Mostly, this is fine and endearing…until you hear your child belting out in modified form the lyrics to one of his favorite Eric Clapton songs, named after the recreational drug of choice in the 1980’s. “She don’t YI, she don’t YI, she don’t YIIIIIII – OK!!! Dirdee OK!!” Yes. OK it is, Gabe…and now off to plant some nice Jesus songs in your head. So I stuff him full of Bullfrogs and Butterflies, followed by a nice helping of Wee Praises…and some Twila Paris and Veggie Tales thrown in there for good measure. But I tell you. It’s hard to compete with songs that rock it. Always, like a happy little moth, he is drawn to the rhythmic flicker of the beat. Ga bish. Ga bish….ga ga gA GA BISSSHHHHH!

Finally, in sheer determination, I pack up both of my children in our trusty blue minivan and screech off to Lifeway. I’m so proud of myself. Hauling a two-year old and a baby into a bookstore. What an adventure. Until I meet the mother with 4 small children coming out. Oh. Well. I guess she wins. Scouring the shelves for something that contains the acceptable mixtures of guitar and drum close-ups, along with rockability factor, I spot Gabe staring fixedly at the flatscreen up at the ceiling…and I have found it!!! Passion ’06, with David Crowder, Chris Tomlin, etc. I bought the exact DVD he was watching, as they were out of it on the floor. Got me a good ol’ Mennonite discount with my rockability factor. I also bought a Creation ’06 DVD, featuring Jeremy Camp (OK), and The Newsboys (now we’re talkin’…) – ie. Da Boyz. Da Boyz have passed all necessary tests, and call for all the appropriate gah-bishes.

Tonight he is watching Da Boyz while Mommy nurses the baby to sleep, because Daddy is out picking up Chinese food and a movie, seeing that Gabe is under the weather and almost asleep, and Israel’s chief motto is “early to bed, early to rise, makes me real happy and mommy and daddy real cranky and yawny”. J How nice to have a time slot for a movie on a Saturday night. This is indeed a rare occasion. There is a suppressed sense of elation in the air when both boys are going down extra early that energizes us for the entire process – the promise of FREE TIME!!! We can luxuriate in the concept of free time like fat happy cats in the sun, stretching happily in the warm area of space and silence, padding around wherever we want, kings of our quiet little realm.

When I am working on the sixth floor at the hospital, I often go to this unused supply room to pump that other people occasionally use for the same reason – and I love it. It is a set of three connecting rooms, full of bed-tables, unused chairs, boxes of random things, an old porcelain dripping sink tucked into one corner, a little table covered with a cloth, a basket of crocheted flowers, and bathed in sunlight. It has always made endorphins shoot off in my brain to go in there, and I feel like I could stay all day in that happy, quiet, sunny space. I have decided I actually wouldn’t mind living there and have already picked out which rooms I would use for the kitchen, living room, and bedroom (the little girl playing house in me is still alive and happy). I know this is weird, don’t worry. :) I was mentally analyzing my love of this space and trying to figure out why in the world I like it so much, and then I realized – it is totally QUIET and peaceful. Where in my life do I have quiet, peaceful space right now? Nowhere! Save here, sixth floor at UK Med Center. :)
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In other news, Rabbit the Bunny, also known as Bunny the Rabbit is both flourishing and pooping profusely. I didn’t know bunnies pooped so much. (Not the bad diarrhea poop, just in case you wanted details. And all.) He is really growing, and I actually can’t hold him hardly anymore to feed him, because he squirms and wiggles too strongly and gets out of my clutches. I can put the syringe in his crate, though and hold it up to his mouth, and he licks/gums it. He can drink up to about 9cc now. He is also eating clover and grass. He’s as cute as a button. The Bunny Expert Lady that I called again said that I can let him go when he is about 5 inches long. Right now he’s about 3 ½. I think I actually might be sort of sad to see him go! The other night, after feeding him at 2 AM and lying awake as he jumped and jumped in his cardboard box, bunny nails scratching the side on his way down, I shuttled him down to the cavernous and noise-absorbing basement, where he rested quite peaceably until morning. Last night was equally pleasant and restful. He snuggled down with plenty of clover and was just fine come morning.
















Here's my little boys ready for a stroller ride.

Bunnies and Pess-ants

Well, the bunny lives on. He is drinking pretty well, and today I discovered that he will eat clover if I put it in there for him. I’m wondering if this means he may be able to make his own fuzzy way in the world, and live a hoppy life. :) hehheh. He still seems sort of little and clumsy, though. I’m afraid of accidently doing something wrong and killing him by not feeding him enough or feeding him too much or giving him a heart attack by doggedly pursuing him around his cage. That little critter.

Yesterday he looked so cute all wrapped up his little washcloth, so after I fed him I decided to take him outside in the sunlight and snap a picture. As I wrestled with my camera, brow furrowed, mind distracted, hand loosened, his little wiggling nose caught the scent of sweet, sweet freedom and El Bun-yo took a wide, flailing leap out of my hand into the wild blue yonder. Of course my heart almost stopped, because Herself, Killer of All Things Bunny was snooting around in the grass right beside me…I was in horror that I was going to witness the final episode of the Great Bunny Massacre, and watch my bunny child be torn limb from limb…but thankfully the Snooch is as nearsighted as they come and was in the midst of peering interestedly, albeit blindly at the intriguing rustling, hopping noises that were coming from her right, foreleg raised in hunting stance, when suddenly she was totally disconcerted and disoriented by her owner screaming her name and lunging frantically at her. Makes one’s fur turn a tinge grey. Makes one’s bladder a mite trembly. She was hustled inside before she knew what was happening, and the bunny hunt was on. Poor bunny. I had to recruit Tim to help me, because Bunn Babe is a wriggly little bugger.

I tell you what, though - between Israel waking up the past week at 5 AM ready to face the day, and requiring 1/2 hour of nursing or so to go back to sleep, and then padding groggily out to the kitchen to clutch the skittish bunny and point a syringe of warmed bunny milk in his direction...I am not waking up so chipper these days. Anybody want to bunny-sit?
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Tonight we went out and bought Gabe a sandbox. Or, rather a “sand-pool” – they were out of turtle sandboxes at Walmart. I tell you what – the concept of a “pess-ant” (present) is a mighty motivating factor in Gabe’s little universe. Somewhere along the line he picked up the meaning of “present” and talks routinely about the “pess-ant” that perhaps I may have for him, or that Grandma might have, or how I might bring him one from the store. The concept of “pess-ant” settles his clothes quickly onto his otherwise squirming self, slips his shoes on without a hitch, whisks him in and out of the game room at CiCi’s Pizza (we needed a fun family night), off the riding lawnmowers at Lowes, and away from the game area at Walmart. I’m gitt-ning a pessant. Happy sigh.

Bunny Breath

Our Snooch (bad girl) has Bunny Breath. Our Snooch (bad girl) is a Bunny Eater. Baleful stare. Actually, Tim is more appalled than I, likely mostly because he witnessed the carnage. Chloe got into a nest of baby bunnies in the yard next door and shook 3 of them to death. The thing is, this is EXACTLY the thing her little Jack Russell Terrier self was born to do. So you can't really blame her.



















However. There was one little bunny left alive, and as we were told by our neighbor Bud, who knows a little something about most everything, the mommy rabbit would likely not come back to the nest, since it was so disturbed, and the one remaining bunny wasn't even in the nest anyways, but just huddling up against a wall - we decided to adopt him. Or her. Figured it was the least we could do after the ravage Snooch wrought. Goes by the name of Bunn Bunn. A third reason to climb out of bed in the middle of the night - just what I was looking for! :)

So yesterday, Sunday afternoon on Memorial Day weekend, I called the vet's answering service who sent me to the Animal Emergency Clinic who gave the number of a "bunny expert" who told me how to take care of it. It's eyes are open and it has fur and so it has a pretty good chance of survival. It started eating from a dropper this morning and already isn't nearly as jumpy from being handled, plus it has starting making baby bunny poop. :) So I'm happy. I'm the Bunny Whisperer.

I have understood, in a new light, why Chloe likes squeaky toys so much. A baby bunny sounds exactly like a squeaky toy - it's mildly startling. Anyways. Signing off, from a Miller Household of 2 adults, 2 boys, 1 Jack Russell, and 1 Bunny...

Jumpy

Gabe has placed a new “startle factor” into my life. I’m normally not that jumpy of a person, but there are times when I believe that all children are snug in their beds, and I’m guzzling some water in the kitchen and I hear a small creak in the dining room and think – ‘Is that…?’ and peer around the door and jump a bit because there is a little person standing there looking at me. Or after we have gone to bed and the house is dark, and above the whir of the fan I hear a noise in the hall and suddenly there is movement over by the piano, as Gabe has sleepily wandered out in search of name-the-item. Makes one a mite jittery if one doesn’t expect such things. I’m just waiting for the day when I am sleeping soundly and suddenly jerk awake to find a small person standing at my bedside waiting for me to wake up.

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This is a conversation I had with Gabriel today; make that monologue he had: “C’oe (Chloé) doesn’t poop on the books (in the bookshelf), she doesn’t poop on the wug (rug) – she’s a bad g’ul (girl) she doesn’t poop on the ceil-din (ceiling) (he cranes his head back and gestures up at the ceiling as he talks) – she – she can’t fy (fly) up dere and…she poops in the fwont (front) yard, she doesn’t poop on da con-keet (concrete) she poops in da fwont yard yeah.” And OK. Any questions?

GRADUATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HE DID IT!!!! Tim graduated on Saturday, May 19, 2007, with a Masters of Divinity from Asbury Theological Seminary.














I felt a mite teary as we sat in the Luce Auditorium for his graduation, because we had finally arrived at the point for which we have been here the whole time. School has been our life so far,and now we have what we came here for. Along with two children, 6 years of marriage, and a happy little life here in KY. He would have you know that he actually still needs to finish 90 hours of cross-cultural ministry before he is "officially" graduated, but I don't really count that.














Gabe conked out while Grandma Edith was holding him during the ceremony. He had a good ol' Granddaddy shoulder to lean on for a while.

We had an absolutely great weekend, with both sides of the family showing up to celebrate with us. Gabe had a stupendous time with all these people to play with him and admire his drumming abilities, and Israel got all sorts of hugs and kisses and leg squeezes.
















We had a graduation party for Tim on Sunday evening. Gabe had to play "football" while we were getting ready.

























All football players need a Dorito now and then for energy needs, as EVERYONE knows....
















Nana Carol and Aunt Lynette took Gabe and Israel to the playground during the afternoon.



We had school friends and church friends for Tim's party. A great time was had by all. We had hamburgers, hotdogs, potato salad, baked beans, veggie tray, chips, and icecream cake. Mmmmmm.





















Other things to note:

1. Israel is starting to push up on to his hands and knees as off this weekend (7 months 5 days)

2. Gabe started to pedal his tricycle today (2 years 9 months)

3. My husband is an amazing singer and songwriter. I wish you guys could hear him singing a song he wrote and playing his guitar as I am writing this. If I were more tech-savvy perhaps in fact you could, but alas it is not so. Seriously. He has "it", whatever "it" is.


***All pictures except the party pictures are courtesy of my amazing photographer sister-in-law Lynette. Thanks so much, Lynette....

My Son the Bunny

The other day, as we were finishing up our supper of tacos, Gabe decided that he needed "a little" lettuce, so he helped himself to all the lettuce left in the bowl, and then proceeded to chomp away. He certainly did not finish all his lettuce, but it was pretty hilarious.



































Here he was the other afternoon after we went to the library. He is getting easier to take places, because he can "listen" better and isn't just randomly toddling off to places unknown. He was very happy about his new books to look at. Me too. I hit my saturation point with the books he currently has and basically can't stand to look at them anymore, with a few exceptions. One of his current favorites is "Blue Hat, Green Hat". It just tickles his funny bone with chortling glee.



















And a final idiosyncrasy. My child and his sleeping habits continue to astound me. Since I laid his "road" rug on his floor, the child has been spending every nap and night on his beloved rug, surrounded by his pillow and blankets. Often, I will find him fast asleep, partially on the rug, head on the hardwood floor. I continue to shake my head in bewilderment at this child. The other day, as I was unpacking a suitcase in the living room, his eyes lit up and he ran for his pacifier and blanket, and settled himself in. I took it to his room, and that is where he fell asleep that night, and then I transferred him to his bed.























I finally took it out of his room last night, as he couldn't quite get comfortable (for SOME reason!!), informing him that the suitcase needed to sleep in the basement. Those sorts of explanations seem to pacify him. The sunshine sleeps, the suitcase sleeps - fits in his little world. :)

Seven Months

• Has two teeth, both bottom middle
• Getting stronger on his sitting alone skills, but still topples after a few seconds
• Rolling all over the floor
• Drooling like a faucet
• Uses "da-da-da" and "ma-ma-ma"
• Legs are pretty strong for standing, and can stand for a good little bit when you support him
• Eats some baby food, but is still mostly breastfed
• Likes to play with his red dog, his teething "keys", anything really that he can hold and wave around, and/or chew on. :) I've noticed in the past few days that he is getting more intentioned about his motions - he can reach out and take something, and then steer it towards his mouth.
• Likes his exersaucer, johnny jump-up (over the door), and sitting in his highchair playing with toys
• Usually sleeps about 11 hours a night, usually from 8:30-9:30 PM to 7:30-8:30 AM.
• Is FINALLY starting to kind of put himself to sleep with minimal fussing. He rolls all around in his crib, and I have found that he kind of nestles up to the bumper or his blanket like he is nursing, and sometimes sucks his first two fingers.
• Has SUCH a sweetheart of a personality. He is SO quick to smile, and he smiles with his entire body. He is the cuddliest little thing ever. Gabe continues to love him too, and they get a big kick out of each other.
• Is 21 pounds (80th percentile) and 29 inches (92th percentile)

On the Roll

My boy is on the roll. Several days ago, he started rolling from his back to front, front to back (6 months and 4 weeks). He can make some tracks. You put him down on the rug and then leave the room for a minute, and he is nestled up to the stereo speakers, or drooling on the hardwood floor when you come back.

He has also practicing the dubious sport of "testing the choppers" that he has sprouted so recently. This morning I filed a formal complaint to the 'powers that be' regarding the injustice of being bitten 8 times between the hours of 6 and 7 AM. He thinks it is quite amusing, and gives me a pleased smile after each chomp. You see why I was up at 6:30 AM. Ain't no way I am persisting in the attempt to nurse my son back to sleep. I'd rather rise and shine, thanks. (Or, rise and flicker faintly, at least. I'm not known around here for my ability to function adequately in the morning hours.)



















Here was the previously aforementioned Chomper this afternoon. What a puddin' pie. He had a fever again yesterday from the slow ascent of those two bottom teeth. They are through the gums, but still have a bit to come out still.















Here's my other boyz. Tim is mildly horrified at the appearance of his stomach on this picture, so I am going to issue a public disclaimer that my husband does not in fact possess a pot belly, and is in fact, quite in shape. This was Gabe playing in the back of our neighbor Bud's truck.



















I discovered Gabe the other day busy with his guitar and just had to capture it on film. He has a guitar cord of Tim's plugged into two random holes on his pretend guitar. Add the cowboy hat and pantless state, and it just called for a photo. :)















And finally, here are my lovin' buddies playing outside together the other day. The days have been so beautiful that we've just had to be outside. Gabe was thoroughly enjoying his box and drum, and Israel was gnawing happily on his orange butterfly.