3. Now that Gabe is crawling, I've found our home is not baby proof and our furniture is not baby friendly. John's answer to keeping Gabe from crawling onto the bottom shelf of our glass coffee table that is sandwiched between the couch and chair is to strategically place my sewing machine (still in the box) in front of the table. I guess this is better than my idea: invest in 100 yards of bubble wrap and duct tape it to the furniture, walls, corners, patio door, cabinets, kitchen tile ...
2. Gabe is learning to sign when he needs something. So far he has caught onto the milk sign, which looks like a hand milking a cow. However, he's also caught on to the hello sign. Frequently, he interchanges the two, and I can't tell if he's welcoming me back to the room or frantically trying to tell me that I've been gone with his lunch for too long, and he desperately needs some calories before his double chin begins to fade into a single chin.
1. Snuggling is something both of the men in my life love. Gabe never lasts too long in his crib at night because he wants to cuddle with me while he dreams about happy things like different flavors of milk and having a house filled with wires he's allowed to touch and mouth. I love snuggling, too; lately, however, I've been feeling a little like the peanut butter in a sandwich. John cuddles me on one side and Gabe snuggles up on the other. We have a good foot of bed on both sides that never gets any loving. Apparently peanut butter and mommies were not meant to know what the phrase "personal space" means. I'd pay fat cash to
1. have 20 minutes alone in my bed
2. Not wake up with my limbs crunched into awkward positions