The Passage of Time

Between Gab’s very first Christmas at 4 months and her latest when she was still new at being a terrible three, many a transformation has occurred in our household.

From a gurgling, curious, cute baby to a cocky, inquisitive, temperamental toddler, we have gone through a whole gamut of emotions in our everyday struggle to raise this individual… this human person. And as we watched our daughter metamorphose from a helpless, needy, wordless infant to an assertive, willful, (relatively) articulate preschooler so we witnessed ourselves changing along with her. And I am not just referring to saggier skin, flatter breasts and wider hips. But the kind of alteration that turns you just a teeny bit more patient, more loving, more forgiving, more open to challenges, more receptive to the inevitable changes wrought by the passing of time.

Oh, there are bad days and then there are worse days when you cannot wait for the day to end so you can start a new one but on the whole, raising Gab has been one incredibly enriching journey...

The Toddler Stance: A Hint of Defiance?

And on the 7th Day...

I think it was only on the seventh day that we fully realized we were brandnew parents (virtually brandnew in my husband's case as his firstborn was then 26 years old). The first six days we walked around like zombies from utter exhaustion and sleep deprivation.

So, here is a shot of seven-day-old Gab, still sporting lanugo.

And no, rest didn't come on the 7th day. Resting, relaxing, sleeping -- these would be totally alien concepts to us new and virtually new parents for the next six months or so. I actually got introduced back to the blissful world of uninterrupted night's sleep only after sixteen months, when I finally got Gab to wean from the breast.

Another Word for NO

When you ask our preschooler to do something these days, the answer you're most likely to get is: Later.

e.g.

Mama: Gabrielle, will you please pick up your mess?
Gab : Later, Mama.

or

Papa: Would you like to eat now?
Gab : Later.

We pretty much figured her saying 'later' was just her polite way of turning us down. Until one day, she just had to make it explicitly clear. (Just in case we didn't get it, you understand. Like most parents are wont to do.)

Mama: Let's go upstairs and do your homework.
Gab : Later. Later, that means No. Now, that means Yes. Okay, Mama?

I hope when she's all grown up though that she'll say the two-letter word instead of the five-letter word in more... er, pressing situations.

Jerk-of-a-boyfriend: Let's have sex.
16-year-old Gab: Later.
Jerk-of-a-boyfriend: When exactly later?

Hippie-of-a-boyfriend: Try this (handing her coccaine or marijuana).
16-year-old Gab: Later.
After five sec...
Hippie-of-a-boyfriend: How about now?

But then I have 12 years to design a poster that says: "Later. That means NO."

What's In A Name?

We thought Gabrielle had a pretty common name until she started going to school.

First day: They get the spelling right but they put her name under the boys' list.

First two weeks: Gab tires of telling school personnel how to pronounce her name.

staff: good morning, gabrielle. (long a)
gab: no. it's gabrielle. (short a)

From the second week to present:

teacher: hi, gab-rielle. (two syllables)
gab: it's gab-ri-elle. (three syllables)

After 6 weeks, we finally get her school ID.

The name on it: Gabriel C. Echevarria

When will they get it right, do you think?

Oh well... Gabrielle by any other name would throw temper tantrums just as fierce.