the good kind of insanity.

This is my Eli. Isn't he cute? He's a sneaky one, though, this Eli. See, E's a handful without ever making you realize that he's causing a problem. For instance, when he was a newborn, his tiny vocal chords were capable of releasing a high-pitched scream that reached far beyond most of our sound-thresholds. But he was so little. All was forgiven as soon as I'd wiped up the mess caused by my bleeding ears. Also, he HATES having his diaper or clothing changed. Gabriel was not like this; for him, changing time was relaxing, the way a manicure might be for me. Eli writhes, twists, and attempts to leap away from the horrible table. I dread the guaranteed battle so much that I've actually caught myself wondering how detrimental a dirty diaper could be after, say, the 3 hours it would be until Ben got home and I could make him change it. (Don't worry... my Good Mom side kicked in and I sucked it up.) So that high-pitched scream I was telling you about? It's back. He's started babbling adorably in public places. Bystanders will wander over, drawn by his cute conversation... then, the scream.

Bystander: Oh, how precious. Just darling! Oh .... Oh my.

Cue the bleeding ears. Sorry, bystander.

Gabriel humored us last night by deciding to eat some salad. I thought the homemade pizza would be a sure hit with him, but no. He poked it, cut it into little pieces, peeled off all the cheese, and managed a few, gracious nibbles of what was left. He stared at us eating our own salad for awhile, then finally begged for his own. When we gave him permission, he indignantly berated us for trying to scoop it onto his plate for him. "No, Mama! My food!" Well, excuse me, sir.