Pearl Jam again?

Mike is headed to the Pearl Jam concert tonight at Key Arena in Seattle with my boss, Paul. I don’t think Paul knows what he’s in for. I’ve been to these concerts with Mike and he falls into a state of oblivion and will go into long stretches where it’s just him, the band and the music. I told Paul he should plan for short conversations and a couple of elbows to the ribs (not on purpose).

Lookin good, Seattle! Key Arena, here Mike comes!
The new album, backspacer , was shipped to Mike last Friday and Greyson now has “Got Some” down pat. The two of them spent the weekend either listening to the album or watching old PJ DVD’s. I’m a fan but I prefer variety and hours of PJ each day is too much for me. Grey may look like me, but he’s all Mike. One of the books I’m reading, The Rules of Parenting, says that even if you don’t immediately see anything of yourself in your child, there’s common ground there somewhere and you should search to find it. We haven’t had to look far but I’m keeping it in mind for Guenther #2 since Grey has so much of both of us in him that I’m expecting the exact opposite with the next one. Based on the in utero movement, #2 will be bigger and more active. Time will tell. Did I mention that I'm ready for that time to come?

Yes, I’m reading more than one book at the moment. I’m refreshing myself on Babywise because the infant/baby sleep philosophy worked fairly well the first time and if it ‘aint broke… and for some reason, I’m enthralled with The Infiltrator, Robert Mazur’s autobiography about taking down Pablo Escobar. Don’t ask, I have no idea why I bought it. (It’s pretty good, though)

GREY*isms*

(after scraping his finger, though you would have thought he broke it, getting ready for bed)
G: It hurts, it hurts!
Me: It’ll feel better in the morning. Let’s pray and ask Jesus to heal it.
G: He’s not going to come into my room, is He?

(this morning shortly after waking up and looking at his reflection in the oven door)
G: My hair is all jacked up!

Can I just put on record that I am really missing my old neighborhood these days? Facebook has been a blessing and a curse. Blessing because it’s connected me with people I’ve long lost touch with; curse because I have to see and read about all of the fun being had on my old stomping grounds that doesn’t include me. Granted, 8 months pregnant, I’m not missing much these days but I’m still green with envy. Although I’ve appreciated the social invites I’ve received out here, and really, people, I’m not going to spend $1000 on a dinner with Gloria Steinem but I would have said yes to the $20 booze cruise sans the aforementioned 8 months pregnant. I will live vicariously through Mike tonight who as I write is no doubt brushing up on his 90’s grunge dance moves and lyrics to the old school songs.

Mike*isms*

M: (via instant message) Is it bad that Grey corrected me on the lyrics of “Elderly Woman” when I sang to him last night?
Me: Nice, Mike (as I think OMG, my kid is not going to be one of those stringy haired band guys, is he? No offense, Dad)