It’s January, so it’s time for my State of the Gibbs Family address, which is very similar to the President’s State of the Union address, only with less standing ovations. Or maybe more standing ovations. I don’t know. I’m not there when you read these things.

Oliver just turned 9 months old, and he is still awesome. He sleeps like a champ, eats like a horse (although he has started making faces at some of Gerber’s more absurd concoctions like turnips, ham and grapefruit), and he absolutely loves his big brother. But more than that, he loves his big brother’s toys, and this has elicited more than a few tantrums from Linus. Sharing, it seems, is an acquired taste, sort of like ham and grapefruit. Baby O isn’t walking yet, but he’s been pulling up on furniture for weeks, and his first steps can’t be far off.

I’m not sure how old to tell people Linus is anymore. I mean I know how old he is — he’s 2 — but I’m not sure the proper way to convey that information to someone else, because early on you give your baby’s age in months, but saying he’s 31 months old seems oddly specific. Saying he’s 2 doesn’t really work either though because he’s seven months past his second birthday, and there is a big difference between 24-month-old Linus and our current version. I guess I’m supposed to say he’s 2 and a half, though I wouldn’t tell people I’m 38 and a half, so I don’t know.

Anyway, these days Linus is still really into Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. So much so that in the morning “Mouse” is usually his first word of the day. He’s even learned how to work the remote control and pulls up episodes on the DVR when we’re not paying attention.

Linus has also become a master staller. At night when Tricia puts him to bed, he always wants to read one more book or say one more good night prayer, and what parent can say no to that. Even when we know he’s just delaying the inevitable moment, we put him in his crib, and he screams for 10 minutes then forgets why he’s upset and falls asleep.

Speaking of prayers, Linus recently started referring to himself as Jesus. Tricia made the mistake of laughing the first time he did this, and now if you ask him his name, he’ll either say it’s Bob (our dog) or Jesus (our God). And just yesterday he started asking, “Jesus home soon?” instead of the usual, “Momma home soon?” he asks me the moment Tricia walks out the door. I think he’s just confused, though I suppose he could be a prophet, in which case I’m going to forget my New Year’s resolution to exercise more.

So in conclusion, the state of the Gibbs’ family is mixed. The kids are cute, and the parents are tired. God Bless you, and God Bless the United States of America.

Chad Gibbs resides in Auburn and is the author of “God & Football,” “Love Thy Rival” and “Jesus Without Borders.” To learn more about Gibbs’ projects and to purchase his books, visit

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