215 To Go

We are past the first month, which everyone says is the hardest. I hope so. It's gotten to the point that Gabriel will finally fall asleep at 4 a.m., and then wake up at 4:30 screaming for food. I look at the clock and go, "Well, that's a half-hour closer to when he leaves for college." Our whole life has become a multiple-axis countdown: every day is one day closer to Io and Gabe coming home to Los Angeles, and one day closer to Gabe not being a crazy screaming demon. Hopefully.

Because when he's not screaming his head off, Gabe is the most awesome thing ever. And to be honest, even when he is his awesomeness is second only to the non-screaming version of him.

We've been taking him out for Foxy Strolls and trying to enjoy some of the spring weather. The streets and parks are getting packed with people, because there's not a lot to do here if you're a Romanian child other than kick a soccer ball around the street or go play at the playground. This is not a land replete with XBoxes and 500 cable channels. We've stopped in at the market, at Grandma Gomiou's, and the park, all of which Gabriel slept through.

Io wanted an "action shot"

Earlier this week I cooked a dish that can only be described as "fried stew." My brother, who is currently in culinary school learning to be a cordon bleu chef, insists that frying and stewing are two different cooking methods and one dish can't be both. To which I say: shut it, Frenchie. When I want a recipe for a big helping of Surrender Pie, I'll call you. Until then, you can take your fancy book-learnin' and stuff it where the fleur de lis don't shine. Take your damn metric system back while you're at it.

We had our one-month well-baby doctor's appointment this week. Actually, we had it twice, because we're still checking out different pediatricians. Both of them gave Gabe a perfect bill of health. He's putting on weight well, not sick, everything is going swimmingly from their perspective. "But doctor," we said, "he's up all hours, throws up 80% of the milk he drinks, cries for no appreciable reason all the time, and gets hiccups constantly." "Right," the doctors tell us. "He's a baby."

Before I post today's Moment of Zen, let me say this: I know a lot of you are probably going, WTF, this is just a bunch of pictures of Gabe lying on a blanket. I know. Understand that I have a mother who absolutely cannot function without a constant supply of new baby pictures. She is going to be here in like a month, and I will feel her wrath if I am judged wanting.

And now, your Moment of Zen: