Evolution of Finn

I have been neglecting the blog . . . it's apparent. But I have good reason. I've been binging on baby. Big time. This adorable little boy is like my favorite chocolate cake, a foot massage, and a good chic flick all wrapped into one. When I shove my face into the folds in his neck, the world melts away, and nothing bad can come into that tiny spot. He smells like a baby spit-up-and-heaven cupcake. We've been hiding out. Staying away from any moment that I might have to disperse his beauty into the world; I've been keeping it all to myself, gobbling it up. He's my best kept secret. He's like a new spring hat, and everyone will want to try him on. So we've been sitting in our rocking chair. Neglecting house work, forming not-so-great eating habits (at least on my part-he doesn't really have much of a variety now does he?), watching hulu and snuggling each other like there's no tomorrow.

I've been obsessed with watching him change. He's learned how to suck on his hands. He keeps them in little tiny fists wrapped so tight that I have to wash them out because his spit causes it to smell quite "musty" in there. It's the funniest thing to me. And he also loves classical music, courtesy of Gideon. He plays it on Pandora for him when he's in his swing and he'll stop crying, just sit and smile as he listens to the melodies. It's a beautiful thing. This kid is such a daddy's boy. When Gideon walks through the door at night, Finn bursts into the biggest smile at just the sound of his voice. And daddy knows all the right games to play to get him to quit fussing when he's tired, and his marching through the living room puts him to sleep without fail 100% of the time.

But we do get out. When we feel in the mood. Yesterday we went to Nordstrom and he was so good in his stroller the entire time! He smiled at all the sales ladies and they all "oohed" and "aaah'd" over him. Then I decided to push my luck and try one more store. As I am half naked putting on a skirt in the dressing room, he looks at me funny and simultaneously I smell something fishy. I lean in closer...closer...closer...yep. Code brown. And he starts crying, because, of course, who wouldn't cry if they were sitting in their own slimy poo? So I hurry and slip off the skirt and pull him out of the car seat. Good thing I have a changing pad in my diaper bag, since the bench in there was 100 % concrete. I undo his clothes to find the poo is all the way up to his shoulder blades. Yellow, slimy back-mess. Yum. By now the whole room smells and the sales lady is checking in on me. "We're. . .fine. Thanks," I reply when she asks me if I need a new size. I wanted to say "YES! A new set of baby clothes would be awesome right about now. And some sweats for me. I'm tired of these jeans that are not forgiving of the mommy pooch." So after wiping the poop off of the wall that got there who-knows-how and picking up his binky about a thousand times during his diaper change, I got him all cleaned up and dressed in a spare outfit I had (first time I had to use it!), bought that skirt and got out of there as fast as I could. Do I even need to tell you that I drove through McDonald's on the way home for a large Diet Coke?

And PS: Today we stopped at a garage sale with Finn. They were selling a beautiful piece of furniture for originally $100, then marked down to $45. So I told the lady we could do around $30. She made a wary face and came over to look at it with me. "Well, maybe, you guys are a young couple . . ." and then she saw Finn. He was smiling at her and that took the cake. "Oh, MY GOSH!! Look at that beautiful baby! Oh yes. Yes yes yes. For YOU I will do $30." She then proceeded to call her entire family and all the shoppers over to gawk at our "gorgeous little baby." Finn, I am taking you shopping with me every single time!! Way to go little buddy.