The Confused Neuron

Both boys are growing like weeds.  Finnegan is probably at 10 pounds already.  He’s begun not fitting into the newborn size diapers already and we’re going to have to go a size up now.  He’s eating like … well he’s got an appetite that beats out any one of us, that’s for sure.  He’s like clockwork every two hours and you can tell if he’s late in eating because his belly starts rumbling like a freight train going by.

Brae’s in the “I’m clumsy and tripping over the floor” stage as he’s getting taller.  It’s almost like his legs are moving faster than he thinks they are.  He’ll get up and start walking and trip over the carpet or he’ll be walking in a straight line and suddenly one of his legs will hit the pack’n'play on the floor.  I’m sure it’ll get worse.  We’ll just have to have plenty of band-aids and ice packs on hand.

Finnegan seems to have trouble pooing lately.  He gets very uncomfortable when he has to go (hey, who doesn’t?) and then really struggles to fire away.  We usually have to get him on the floor and work his legs like he’s peddling a bicycle to help him go and that usually works.  He’s also learned where his thumb is on his hands.  He has not, however, mastered the art of getting it in his mouth.  Usually he’ll end up trying to eat his fist or another part of his arm, did I mention he gave himself a little blood blister on his arm because of how hard he chomped down on it?  I fear this guy when he starts sprouting teeth.  Right now he’s swinging in his little swing making random noises.  He’s dressed in his moo-cow onesie and appears content with rocking back and forth.

Christy’s been amazing.  I don’t really know how she can do all she does running on practically no sleep.  I am getting more sleep than she is and I feel delirious at times, I can’t imagine how she feels.