Hiatus

Eight months old on the island of Rügen.

So back when I wrote my last entry in, er, September, I didn’t think it would be my last entry until, er, May 2014. But life has a way of taking over and rewriting how you plan a day (or many days) to go. As the GABOJ became more and more mobile, I found myself with less and less time to play on my computer during the daytime. It evolved to a point where he simply wouldn’t allow it anymore, and much whining and crying would commence every time I tried to open up the computer and do something. He was determined that he should be a part of whatever it was I wanted to do. So that left me with evenings for computer time, but if I’m honest, I prioritized other things ahead of writing on my blog. Which is a bit of a shame, because this blog is really for me a way to document our lives as I have a pretty terrible memory. Sorry, where were we? (hehe)

Nine months old.

So I am going to make a New Year’s resolution. (Hush, hush, I am aware this is May. It’s my blog and I make the rules. So there.) I will try to write on my blog more regularly. I won’t make any promises about how often, but I will try to post at least occasionally. Maybe I’ll even surprise myself with a renewed gusto for it.

Let’s get things going by talking about the reason I haven’t blogged since September, bless his little time-consuming heart.

Our little GABOJ is not so little anymore. He’s now 15 1/2 months old and is a ball of energy. He started walking back in March and there’s no stopping him now, running around and getting into as much mischief as possible. He loves the cat, but she has learned to steer clear of him. He hasn’t quite mastered the art of being gentle and not pulling fur and tails. He is obsessed with any type of vehicle, but mostly cars and motorcycles and mopeds. His first word every morning for at least a week now has been “auto,” which is German for car. We’re really starting to think there’s something genetically hard-wired into his little boy brain as he is so stereotypically obsessed with vehicles, and that’s not due to any effort on our part to push him in that direction. He’s a little parrot, repeating words we say all the time. He’s starting to say two words together (like, “big boy,” “Alles klar?” – German for “everything okay?”) and looooves to say “no” or “nein” about a million times a day. He’s gone through a couple of food phases now, the first being “apple” when he’d say it all the time, multiple times a day. And he genuinely wanted to eat some apple pretty much every time. Now he randomly says “pizza” even if it’s morning and nowhere close to lunchtime. But he gets excited when I make it and eats it like a champion. “Raisins” seem to be a new obsession as well.

Ten months old.

When Luke was newborn, I used to feel quite antsy and longing for him to be a bit older as there are so many things about a newborn baby that I find exhausting. The lack of sleep the first few weeks is an all-consuming exhaustion that is really just indescribable. You pretty much just shut down to life-support systems in an attempt to make it through. And at times, there’s colicky crying that won’t stop no matter what you do. The milestones are few and far between for those first few months, so you feel like you are pouring all this love and attention towards a little being without much reward. But someone once said to me that it will never get “easier” as your child grows; the challenges just change. And I see now how true this is. Because while Luke sleeps through the night now, he’s awake for most of the day and has to be watched all the time. I can’t leave the room for a few minutes and not worry too much the way I could when he was immobile. And although we don’t have colicky cries anymore, he will break out into a full-body, throwing-himself-on-the-ground tantrum when he doesn’t get his way about something.

Eleven months old in Indiana.

But still, it’s a pretty adorable age, and I love watching him do his toddler waddle around and repeat words after us in his sweet little voice. And when he runs to me with arms outstretched for a hug, and then nuzzles in to my neck, I can’t imagine spending my time on anything else, even if it means my blog gets a bit dusty.

On his first birthday.

Thirteen months old and dressed for Fasching.

Fourteen months old in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Almost fifteen months old and ready to take on the world.