Giddie's Pockie

Gideon's second birthday is just around the corner, this weekend in fact. I can hardly believe my youngest will be TWO. Hooray! (for me that he's growing up, not for me that he will be two - and you know what that means. Trouble.)

I wanted to write a few things about Giddie.

He was born on a schedule, and by the grace of God, came when he was supposed to. With Peter living here, and me in the states, it was tricky. I wanted Peter to be home for the birth and the recovery, not waiting for Gid to come. We had a scheduled induction and had purchased airline tickets for Peter. Little did we know that a volcano in Iceland could disrupt this whole plan. Needless to say, Peter was on the last plane out of Amsterdam before they closed the airspace. Truly a blessing.

His delivery was the pits from start to finish, but in the end I got our beautiful fifth child. Quiet, passive, a good sleeper and content in general. He traveled across the world like a dream. Rode in the bike buggy and 115 degree temps. Slept in his stroller while we went to the pool and rode in my arms while we squeezed into taxis around camp.

Then he turned one.

And that's about it. Since then he is nothing but a six year old trapped in a one year old body. He hasn't quit talking, yelling, crying, whining, fussing, laughing, or running since the day he turned one. This has made for SO much fun, and a whole lot of frustration for mommy. It has also made him very independent, expect that he's glued to me, and he has been a very early talker. He especially LOVES to tell knock knock jokes. Here he is telling one to Sol while Sol is in the bathroom.

You should probably know that he only knows one knock knock joke. You may know it. "Knock knock; who's there?; Banana; Banana who?" Say this three times, then you finally say "Orange; Orange who?; ORANGE you glad I didn't say Banana?!"

His goes something like this: "Knock knock; Who's there?; *squeal and giggle* ORANGE!" And that's it. It's very cute, expect when he's on his 20th time of knock knocking.

He talks and says everything. I keep asking him how he knows all these words. "I no know." He replies. He loves to yell at the top of his lungs, especially in church. "Where Molly?!" (his friend) or "Hi Waggie!" (That's sister Wagner) He is very loud. I have no idea why. (keep your comments about his mother to yourself!)

Another funny thing about Gid is that he has a Sguggle. (snuggle) He became very attached to my underclothing while nursing. When I went to Europe last spring, I weaned him before I left, and got him to sleep by giving him my silky shirts to sleep with, he's a thumb sucker, you know. BIG mistake. Now he wants them ALL the time. I have cut them up, so he just has pieces, but he does prefer the whole thing.

He especially loves to put them in his "pockie", That's his pocket, otherwise known as down the front of his shirt. The more the merrier. He has discovered my underclothing drawer, and lets say, that's just a big mess. I recently found him with SIX bottoms of my unders stuffed down the front of his shirt.


You can see here his "pockie" is full to the brim. It's especially funny when he is wearing a romper or onesie, and he pulls them out from his bum or the top of his legs. He reaches down, pulls, pulls, pulls, and poof! a sguggle. He loves it. It's trouble with a regular untucked shirt though, they just fall out. Recently he's moving on to shoving them in other things. Bike seats, toy garbage trucks, eye glass case, pretty much where ever he can.

All in all, Gid is a joy. He tries me like crazy and is great birth control. If I didn't think I was done with babies before him - I do now. He is so fun - and exhausting - that we hardly know what to do with him. I always say he took "Chach lessons" on how to be a crazy, wild maniac. Those two will certainly keep the world on their toes. I love them both to death.

Gid. I love you. I'm so thankful you came into our family at such an unsure time. You've weathered our crazy life well, thus far, and I can't wait to see what kind of person you grow into because of the circumstances life has thrown at you. I love you, my little J Bird.