Happy Easter...

We've been celebrating Easter for an entire week...with family dinners and egg hunts with BOTH sets of Grandparents and cousins!

(The photos are from Easter Sunday)

Quarter-pint Is Up To Antics Again...

I had forgotten how mischievous Quarter-pint was before he couldn't breathe or get a good night sleep. Now that those issues are basically resolved, the impish Quarter-pint is back...with a vengeance! And last Saturday he was making up for lost time:

I was at a meeting, while Daddy was home with all three boys. Half-pint had a soccer game, and as Daddy was trying to herd everyone out the door, he sent Quarter-pint to get in the car (that was Daddy's mistake...I NEVER just send him out to the car unsupervised). By the time Daddy got to the garage, he was stunned to find Quarter-pint STANDING on the TOP of the van, waving a swimming noodle. He was taller than the garage door tracks! We're still not sure exactly how he climbed up onto the roof of the van, but thankfully he came down nicely into Daddy's waiting arms; who then quickly placed him into his car seat buckles (of which there is still no unassisted escape). Although we did find little hand prints on the outside of the passenger's front window-just visible in the right light.

Later Saturday afternoon, I was sitting on the couch, feeding Peewee-pint when I spied Half-pint try to stealthily escape out the front door toting Quarter-pint's scooter. I hollered at Daddy since I was in no position to chase after the boys--outside, in front of the neighbors; but Daddy didn't seem to think there was any concern. So after a few long minutes, I made myself presentable and hauled Peewee-pint out the front door to find the two little bedlam-ites (Daddy was still no where to be found-somewhere in the house replacing washed window screens). As I emerged into the afternoon sunshine, with 17 pounds of baby clinging to my hip, I was surprised to find Quarter-pint in the middle of the street-wearing his underpants, and NOTHING else. Half-pint was at the end of the culde-sac sans shoes or helmet, on the scooter.

I couldn't help but wonder what the neighbors think!

Peewee-pint @ Six Months...

It's hard to believe that Peewee-pint is already six months old! Having said that, we've had a LOT go on in the past six months!

Peewee-pint is truly delightful (except when he's just awake in the middle of the night, which does happen occasionally). Everyone (except probably Daddy) describes him as "very laid back" He seems to just hang out and go with the flow...he hangs out with me, the bigger boys, Daddy, Grandma...whoever wants to lug him around.

He's typically pretty happy to play on the floor, wrestle toys in his bouncy seat, have tummy time, guard the kitchen from his high chair, chill in his car seat, and especially just being held by anyone big (like adult size). He always lets us know when he's had enough...usually very loudly-then he will NOT be ignored. Up until that deafening piggy squeal, he's generally laughing, cooing, babbling, growling and (his current favorite) spitting. Sometimes the bigger boys comment on how noisy Peewee-pint is...and it's true.

Mr. Grabby Fingers has gotten awesome with fine motor skills (at least on par with the ability of a 6 month old with chubby hands) and even uses his two feet together as one prehensile unit to grab anything that come between them. He's an expert at putting things in his mouth...EVERYTHING goes into his mouth (but I wouldn't expect anything less) which makes Quarter-pint crazy since everyone is always telling him to take his fingers OUT of his 3 year-old mouth.

Peewee-pint is still working on sitting up. Generally it's the folded-in-half tripod sit, so I have to be careful and NOT let him practice just after eating. His FAT thighs make for a pretty broad base...it's just that darn big head that's so heavy to hold up!

Here's the Six Month Stats:

Length 25.75 inches (25 %ile)

Weight 17 lbs., 5 oz. (50 %ile)

Head 45 cm. (85 %ile)

Weighing in at only 17.25 pounds officially makes Peewee-pint the runt-by 2 pounds.

Quarter-pint Post-Surgery Changes...

Now that Quarter-pint is finally fully recovered from his surgery, we've noticed some interesting changes in his behavior and preferences:

• Prior to surgery, he wore a pull-up at night-soaking it nearly every early morning; after surgery he keeps his pants dry all night-every night.
• Prior to surgery Quarter-pint used a sippy cup-all the time; after surgery he won't go near one.
• Prior to surgery Quarter-pint generally ate very little; after surgery, he eats ALL THE TIME
• Prior to surgery he thought he was a little cow-drinking literally 2 1/2 GALLONS of MILK each WEEK by himself; after surgery I think he's had about 5 cups TOTAL in the past 5 weeks (I'm saving at least $20 a month on milk)
• Prior to surgery, he was not interested in ice cream-would hardly eat any; after surgery Quarter-pint asks and earnestly feels he should eat ice cream, or a chocolate milkshake EVERYDAY!

We fully expected him to sleep better thus feel better, having more energy, etc, etc. but some the above changes are a little surprising and a bit humorous.

Half-pint Has A Run-in With The Law...

We've run into a few behavior issues with Half-pint over the past few months...and it came to a head this afternoon. I was feeding Peewee-pint when Half-pint came in and started playing with the telephone next to me. I told him not to play with the phone and he quickly took off into the next room. When he emerged a few minutes later, he informed me that he had called 911 and then hung up. Great, I thought and went to find the phone and checked the redial. Sure enough...911. Quarter-pint had been patiently waiting for me to help him, and in the middle of making yet another bowl of oatmeal, the sheriff's office called back to make sure everything was alright.

The problems really started to escalate when Peewee-pint started to squeal in the background (he sounds like a stuck little pig screaming...it's awesome, especially when you're on the phone with the sheriff's office!). I tried to reassure the deputy on the other end of the line that we were all fine. As soon as I hung up Half-pint and I had a little talk about when it's okay to call 911 and when it's not...and why it's not a good number to prank call.

About 15 minutes later the doorbell rang and I was not the slightest bit surprised to see a uniformed sheriff's deputy standing on my front porch. He asked to come in and wanted to speak with Half-pint. When Half-pint saw the deputy-he freaked out-ran up to his room and locked himself in his bathroom, all the while screaming. I had to literally carry him downstairs so the deputy could have a little chat with Half-pint-just to make sue he understood when it's okay and not okay to call 911. Half-pint nearly had a complete meltdown and wouldn't acknowledge the deputy...who just needed to hear Half-pint say that he understood...and then he would leave. It took Half-pint a half-hour to finally say "I understand" loud enough for the Deputy and I to hear and vaguely understand.

As soon and the deputy left, Half-pint ran, as fast as he could up the stairs and into his room, for a self-appointed time-out; crying the whole way. I was disappointed it took a half-hour for Half-pint to acknowledge something he already knew (we had just talked about it); not only wasting my time, but more importantly the deputy's as well. Hopefully we will all learn a valuable lesson from our first (and probably not last) run-in with the law.

Peewee-pint Rolls Over...

...So, I still think it's a fluke, but it has happened twice in the past few days... When Peewee-pint is on his round little belly...if he can shift his weight just right...before he knows what's happening...he's on his back again... Genius or just rolly-polly?

Half-pint's Observations About Girls...

Yesterday in the car on the way to church, the boys were talking about girls. Quarter-pint really wants a sister (and has for some time); but Half-pint can't figure out why Quarter-pint has such a wish. This is what Half-pint told Quarter-pint about girls...

"Girls go into the bathroom, lock the door and brush their hair for a long time. What if I really have to go potty?!? That's why I don't want a sister."