Gavin is a force to be reckoned with. Seriously. He is a cyclone who leaves a wide path of destruction in his wake. The majority of my day is spent cleaning up after his disasters. Just since I sat down to write this, I have had to get up twice to get him out of trouble. Once, to pick up the jumbo size box of Q-tips he dumped out, and once to put away the perfume he sprayed all over the bathroom (that I thought he couldn't reach) and search for it's lid (which I never found).
This week has been a busy one for Mr. G. He turned 15 months, started walking, and moved from the high chair to a booster seat. He also threw my cell phone into the tub, dumped a quart of RED paint on my storage room floor (ruining his clothes, my clothes and the spatula I had to use to scrape it up off the floor) Dumped the contents of our cabinets on the floor 632 times (Yes, they have child safety locks on them.) and pulled all the books off the bottom two shelves of all our bookcases (we have a whole wall that is nothing but bookcases) like a man posessed.
He won't touch food with his hands, and he won't let me feed him, so I have to stab the food with his fork, hand it to him, he eats and hands the fork back to me. He loves being outside (because he can peer over the edge into our window wells and hang out in the middle of the street...which is why he doesn't spend too much time outside...)and stares out the window many times a day. He also loves dogs and climbs on my nightstand to look and bark at the neighbors dog. He exhausts me!
But in saying that, I can't resist him. He gives me loves 100 times a day and he pronounces "Mom" like a teenager. He smiles constantly and melts my heart. I guess that's the thing with a tornado. Even amidst their destruction, they manage to suck you right in!
The blankie-thumb combo. So cute.
Watching his siblings play in the yard. Poor, deprived kid.
Flashing me those baby blues that I can't resist.
