checkup

In Gavin news, he has been trying to pronounce "house", and it is the cutest thing. It is no longer a "how", is a "houf". He makes a scrunchy "f" expression with his lips while saying it. He also said "die-dah" when I held up his diaper. Unfortunately, my name is still "dada", which is his favorite term for everything. Mostly he communicates through body language, beckoning, pointing, or posing with jazz hands. He had a checkup yesterday, and the doctor said he is very tall, very healthy and heavy, very serious, focused, and quiet. She warned me of the evils of co-sleeping, and I laughed at her. I seriously doubt he'll still want to sleep with us when he's 16, so I'm going to enjoy his company while I can. He handled his vaccinations with only a small wail, and when offered a sticker for his troubles, I neatly avoided the one with a tank on it (which the nurse was prodding him toward) and picked him a glittery silver one instead with the unfortunate word "Sweetie" across it in pink cursive. He likes shiny, so never mind the words. 

I have tried to open discussion with Mike about moving to the mainland after I get my degree, but he refuses to talk about it. If it weren't for the fact that he enjoys winter so much, I wouldn't have gotten anywhere with him. He has agreed to take a road trip next summer. He's still heartbroken about leaving all his friends in New York, and seems reluctant to abandon his co-workers now. Maybe I'll feel the same once I make friends in grad school. Gavin could do worse than to grow up surfing and eating plate lunch, though.