I knew from the moment I found out I was pregnant that we were going to have a boy, but, of course, we couldn’t agree on a boy name. I combed through every author and literary character I could think of to come up with a name worthy of my son, but Chris vetoed all of them. I suggested names like Atticus or Sawyer, Fitz or Twain, and Chris said no to all of them. Chris went for more traditional names, and for each of them, I could think of that student who would forever be associated with the name, so I exercised my vetoes.
Every day someone would ask me what we were naming him, and most asked if he’d be a “Junior”. I always replied that his last name was Chris’s, so why should Chris get all the other names, too. For fun, I started thinking of ways to name him after me. I came up with some goofy names, but out of that silliness came “Grayson”.
His name means something for us because he carries a part of both of us with his name. My middle name is Grace; Chris’s middle name is Edward. Now, our son carries our middle names, and both of our middle names have a family history.
Grayson is the fourth generation of Shoo-men to carry the name of Edward. I’m already starting to see some of the Shoo-men characteristics in him (including his grumpy face), so this seems appropriate.
My great-grandmother’s middle name was Grace; my dad once described her as weighing 98 pounds and all of that her heart of gold. She was a teacher, and decades after she retired, her students still remembered her. She made an impact on people. I’m proud to share her name, and I hope my son is, too.
Granted, none of this really matters because he’s forever going to be my little Bug.
Our baby is getting bigger and eating us out of house and home already. I’m dreading what our grocery bill will be like when he’s a teenager. If his current eating habits are any indication, we’re both going to have to get part-time jobs to afford him.
He loves his hands, especially his thumb. It’s like he’s hit the lottery when he can get it in his mouth. We can hear him sucking away on his hands and thumb through the monitor at night. He’s also smiling more and more. Granted, it’s only because he’s got gas, but at 2 o’clock in the morning, it doesn’t matter why he’s smiling.
GrayBug is also much more alert. He knows when his mom or dad is talking, and he turns to figure out where we are. He also focuses on faces and listens when people talk to him. I’ve started reading to him sometimes. He really likes the book “Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes”, I think because it’s very rhythmic. He has a baby faces book that he likes to look at, too.
Grayson got to video-chat with his Great-Grandma Mavis this week. He was awake and showing off how alert he is. He also got to spend an evening with his Grandma Dava while Chris and I went out to dinner. Grammy Lynne and Bob played with him while I got my hair done this week, as well. So, he’s been making his rounds with the grandparents.
So far, he hates bath time. He screams bloody murder nearly the entire time we bathe him. He does seem to like the end when we wrap him in a fluffy towel and cuddle with him.
His 2:00 a.m. parties seem to have ended for now. In fact, he seems to have found a sleep schedule. He goes to bed between 9:00 and 10:00, then wakes around 2:00 and 5:00 for a feeding. He’s been waking me up around 8:00 or so for the day. Sometimes I can sneak in breakfast right after he has his, but more often than not, I have to figure out a way to eat one-handed. The kid just hates to be put down. Grammy Lynne says he’s spoiled.
Things are finally starting to get some rhythm around the Shoo household. Grayson is starting to sleep longer, the dogs are no longer freaked out by baby, and I’m back at work. Now that I’ve got some time, here are some of the photos that I’ve been meaning to post.
We’re getting into a routine but we’ve discovered that our little boy likes to party at 2am. He’s more of a rock star than his parents. Hopefully we can ween him of this bad habit soon. Or else, we’re grounding him to his crib for the next 18 years.
It’s hard to believe that it has already been a week. I think we can say that it has been scientifically proven by the Shoo family, when you have kids, time flies. I’ve gone from never changing a diaper to being able to slap one on the kid faster than a Nascar pit stop.
Grayson has changed dramatically. His face has filled out. He’s gaining weight. We even got him to mimic us when we stick out our tongue. He loves his arms. From stretching to mouthing, he loves to move them around.
Mrs is a super mom. She’s really not asleep in this photo. Just happened to be the best one out of the bunch. The bond between mother and son has started.
Now only if he could sleep during the night.
The last post on this blog was exactly from one week ago. That night I sat down to write out a short entry. We had just been to the hospital earlier that day on a false start. That night when Mrs. Shoo told me that the contractions were getting stronger again. I was a little leery that it was another false start, to the point that I started tweeting asking people what I should bring in my hospital bag. I was literally packing my bag then.
Little did I know it was the real deal and that over 15 hours later we would be seeing our baby boy for the first time. The 15 hours were an experience by itself, but it was worth every drop of coffee, bleep on the heart monitor, and stressful moment of waiting.
I’m still amazed how complete, cute, complicated, emotional this bundle of joy can be. He’s perfect in every way.
Clancy has been Mrs. Shoo’s shadow this week. He has been eerily weird. Not being able to stay in one place, getting as close as possible to Mrs., wanting to explore the house. We think he understands the gig is up as the “baby” of the family. In fact, right now he’s pacing the basement while I type. He will stop by me every once in a while for a greeting. The anxiety is killing him.
Bud, on the other hand, has been a bump on the log. He’s upstairs on the couch curled up in a blanket. For a Ying, there must be Yang. He’s the calm one ready to spring into action. He’s always been the laid back guard dog.
So like our respective pooches, Mrs. is getting nervous. Timing her contractions, Googling symptoms, and has Mom on speed dial. I’m typing this blog when I should probably be getting a hospital bag packed, making sure all of our i-electronic devices are charged and ready to go. Hey, someone has to remain calm, right Bud?