The new babe, Gabe

Ya know, as a general rule I don't use names (except mine and the pups') in my journal.  My guy is, my guy (I know, how original is THAT?  but it keeps confusion to a minimum so I'm sticking with it, besides, it kinda has a catchy ring, doncha think?).  MY mom is memom for reasons I will not divulge at this time.  Maybe later.  Dad is dad.  Cuz that's who he has always been.  Sometimes, just to irk my brother, I would call dad, "MY dad" which somehow my brother took to imply that dad was not also his...but I digress, yet again.

So I am breaking my own tradition by sharing with you the moniker of the newest addition to my guy's family.  His sister is due to give birth to Gabe in just a few days.  I'm so excited, I can't hardly sit still.  Cuz I might get to see him on Saturday.  And I haven't seen a newborn in years.  And maybe I oughta do something about that internal, maternal clock that's starting to sound off and annoy the hell outta me.

I went months ago and pawed through bibs at a consignment shop (the same one from which I bought my queen-sized bed).  I selected 10 of them.  Cuz babies use lots of bibs with all that drooling going on.  I even got matching "Daddy's little boy" and "Mommy's little boy" ones and just how adorable is THAT?!?

Then this weekend, my guy and I went to Wal-Mart.  I found a small willow laundry basket.  Covered its bottom and sides with a few layers of tissue-paper (green, yellow, and of course, blue).  Filled it with baby-boy things...

I took all the onesies outta their packages, rolled each one up, and tied a bib around it.  I stacked them carefully in the basket and topped it off with a card.  In the basket were also 3 pairs of newborn-sized socks.  An aside here, why do the socks have no-skid grips on them?  Does someone think a newborn is gonna hop up and skedaddle across the kitchen floor?

The card shows little diaper pins scattered across the front with a rubber duckie pictured front and center.  The outside reads, "Just a little something..." and the inside finishes with, "...for your little someone."  I gave the basket and all the trimmings to my guy to deliver to his sister from the two of us for Gabe, the new babe.

His older brother, who is now 4, asked his mom why they were buying diapers.  After all, he is a big boy.  His mom explained that the baby would need them.  To which he replied that he'd teach Gabe not use the diapers but to use the potty, like he does.

Kids, ya gotta love em.