Tale from the Playroom... or wherever...

Some of you faithful readers may remember when we affectionately referred to Gavin as “MiniMarshall” or just “Mini” for short before he arrived. We waited 40 weeks (exactly!) for him, but we kept his name top secret. We decided on Gavin Patrick around week 25, but no one knew until his grand (very punctual) arrival. While he arrived ON his due date (unlike most babies) and he came out with big, dark eyes and lots of dark hair, we knew he was mine. Clearly already demonstrating OCD tendencies, and a full head of hair – definitely my child - but that is where the similarities pretty much ended. He looked exactly like the husband. Soon, we would learn, his personality was right in line with his too. 

So, I know now that the term “Mini” was foreshadowing that this little boy of ours would actually be a Mini-Me for the HUSBAND. I should have known. I lug him around for 9 months and then I end up with ANOTHER version of Andy. Lucky me! Seriously though, I these two crazy boys do make me feel pretty lucky. Some of the trouble they have already been into has… concerned me… but their similarities also… well, let’s use the word concerned again. Poor Gav already has a lot to “look forward to” being our son, especially the son of class clown/king goofball/rusty the dawg fan.

Recently these two musketeers outsmarted me again at a friend's engagement party. Gavin of course wore a onesie featuring a bowtie and suspenders, because he knew it was appropriate for such an occasion. (This where I still claim him as mine.) His father wore his signature quarter-zip sweatshirt, because he apparently thinks he’s athletic or something. Anyways, back to the party. The husband had Gavin while I socialized and talked all things wedding with the bride (I will never turn down a conversation about venues, lace and flowers - as long as I live! I can't help it.) 

About a week later, I get a text from friend saying she loved the pictures of Gavin in the laundry basket. What? I know he’s been in the laundry basket, but I try not to photograph that in fears that CPS will judge. She tells me that the husband had been sending photos on Saturday night and really, I need to send them in to whoever makes those towels! Again – what? Now he is in a towel advertisement? I’ve got to get to the bottom of this. Obviously nervous, but curious, I ask the husband if he had Gavin in a basket of towels? To which he nonchalantly replies, “Oh yeah. I had to pee so I took him in the bathroom at Matt and Sarah’s and that looked like a good place to put him.” Seriously? The impromptu photo shoot took place next, and I have to agree, this would be a very sweet in the Pottery Barn catalog we all know and love perusing each month.

just another day at the office with the wood samples
and sophie the giraffe.

a boy and his boat. 

This rivals the time he took him to work for the day and I asked where he was planning on having Gavin sleep. “Do you want to bring the pack-n-play?” Silly question. Why would you bring a bed for your baby when you can just lay him on the floor under a desk?

Or, how about the guys day at the Seattle boat show? Yep, there's Gavin with the Cris Craft he is putting on his wish list for Santa this year.

The best part of these daddy-grams is that Gavin never seems phased… Pottery Barn hamper with soft, new towels in the newlyweds’ bathroom? Sure! Why wouldn’t I just perch in there and giggle? Nap on my blanket on hard carpet in some empty office while my dad works down the hall? No problem! Just come check on me eventually, ok? I actually like to sleep face down.

What’s next, Dad?

Love,

YOUR mini

where you lead, i will follow... literally.