Baby Talk

Gain and I had an exciting day yesterday. We attended Beginnings which is sort of like a baby fair or expo.... think boat & RV show only for baby enthusiasts not boat & RV enthusiasts and breast pumps and formula samples instead of boats and RVs. Coincidentally there was a boat & RV show going on at the same time and Gavin let it be known he would have much rather been there (or anywhere) than at the baby show.

The Gavinator fared sort of well for about the first hour we were there but I think it had more to do with the enitre honeydew he ate at the continental breakfast than the baby show itself. We saw his pediatrician there who knew him by name and I picked up a load of free stuff. I attempted to attend a breastfeeding class but as soon as the LC got up to talk, Gavin started SCREAMING!! The demons inside him awoke and they were ticked off. It was a high-pitched, fear-filled scream like someone had reached over and pinched him only it came out of the blue. Turns out our lactation consultant who we saw when he was born (and a bazillion times after) was the speaker. She remembered us and made a little joke about how Gavin hasn't changed and I told her she still brought out the best in him and we got the heck out of there. Apparently Gavin's demons didn't like our LC. Of course, I already knew that. I didn't particularly care for our LC. Lloyd, however, has fond memories of our trips to the LC. Me sitting topless on a couch with a strange woman on one side of me man-handling my breast and Lloyd on the other side of me watching intently and taking notes..... heck, it is the closest my dear husband will ever get to a threesome so I hope he enjoyed it!

Anyway, to try to appease Gavin's inner demons, I let him out of his stroller to run like a flippin' maniac (I intended to only let him walk but my child does not walk... he only runs like a flippin' maniac) for a bit and when I tried to put him back in, the demons were angered yet again and he started the biggest meltdown of his toddler career... I had to fight to put him in his stroller and there was no way I could carry him and push the stroller all the way out to the car. He was arching his back and screaming and beads of sweat were streaming off my forehead. I'm actually sore today from trying to get him in his stroller and no, I'm not that out of shape.

This expectant father stopped and asked "what was wrong with him" and I was like, "I'm beating him, what does it look like?????". I can't wait until that guy's kid has it's first public meltdown. I hope I'm there to ask "what's wrong with him?". Honestly, though, Gavin... you were only doing on the outside what I do on the inside just about every day. Mommy loves you, sweetie!

Oh, and Emily, who recently sent me this in an e-mail, I'm sorry for what I wrote and please don't stitch up your own uterus.

Especially since Johnny and I are trying to get preggers ourselves. Yeesh, I just spent his going away party surrounded by moms and their stories/advice. You know, third-world countries could solve their genocide problems by partnering young women with older moms. Makes you want to stitch up your own uterus.