The Aliens--minor update
I really feel like I'm caught in some kind of weird science fictioney time thing most of the time right now. Time is passing too quickly, and yet not quickly enough, both at the same time. It's been hellishly hot here all summer, which is bad at the best of times, but even worse when you live in a duplex with crappy insulation and windows that face the setting sun, and no AC, and you have two wee people whose body temperature don't regulate all that well living with you.
So I'm looking forward to the end of summer, but I'm not trying to rush away these early months with the little people, not even when they want to eat for the third time in two hours again!, and I don't want to rush the Academic Husband back to work in the fall. Honestly. It's like we planned it this way--having him home for almost all of the first four months of having these guys. Very cool.
So, I keep meaning to post, and keep forgetting to post, and keep forgetting what I'm going to post, so I figure that I should just post, give over some pictures, and figure out what I meant to say later.
The Aliens!
They're about three weeks old in this picture, so it's still very new. The onesies that they're wearing are specifically for prem babies, and were baggy on them when we took them home (they were both right around five pounds). They won't even go over their heads now (just over 11 pounds each).
Baby A, aka Thing One, aka *Frog:
He's finally caught up with his sister size and weight-wise, probably because of all the eating. He's our zen baby, rarely fussing, but when he really wants something (food/diaper change/relief from tummy ache/is overtired), you'll hear about it--loudly. As ashinae put it, his sister has quantity of crying--he has quality. He's very blond, with hair on top that's so fine and white you can barely see it, and darker blond hair at the base of his neck, so, basically, my kid has a baby-mullet. It's very cool... we'll let him listen to Rush and everything.
Baby B, aka Thing Two, aka **Monkey:
She's our diva, that one. She does a lot more fussing, and the poor Academic Husband spends a lot of time carrying her belly down stretched out across his arm, as it's the only sure-fire position that gets her to stop hollering when she gets really geared up. She's our little strawberry too, with her reddish hair. She's the architect of most of the 'oh dear GOD' disgusting baby stories that we try not to tell to non-parents. Not all of them, but most, almost all involving emergency baths in the sink.
Okay, I haven't watched Due South yet, so I don't know if I'm getting this right, but correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't my Monkey doing Paul Gross arms here?
This is Frog's official 'redneck' outfit--a sleeveless onesie that is seriously too small. I wanted to find a little can of chew to put in his hand.
For everyone who's ever wondered how I bottle feed two babies at the same time.
Obligatory baby bath time pictures. One in the sink, the second in a rubber dinghy, neither of them in an actual bathtub, baby or otherwise, both of the Monkey. Like I said--she does gross things. She's just lucky I haven't used a hose on her yet.
The Frog, trying to escape over my shoulder, and showing off just how cute and chubby he is now. No more frighteningly skinny babies!
Monkey and Frog, colour coded correctly for once, for ease of the audience.
*We call him the frog because when he's resting against your chest, he tucks his legs up and completely frogs up on you. Same if he's on his tummy.
**She became the monkey because she's the little mischief, and because she's the one who sprawls out, arms and legs everywhere. She'll be swinging from the banister before we know it.
So I'm looking forward to the end of summer, but I'm not trying to rush away these early months with the little people, not even when they want to eat for the third time in two hours again!, and I don't want to rush the Academic Husband back to work in the fall. Honestly. It's like we planned it this way--having him home for almost all of the first four months of having these guys. Very cool.
So, I keep meaning to post, and keep forgetting to post, and keep forgetting what I'm going to post, so I figure that I should just post, give over some pictures, and figure out what I meant to say later.
The Aliens!
They're about three weeks old in this picture, so it's still very new. The onesies that they're wearing are specifically for prem babies, and were baggy on them when we took them home (they were both right around five pounds). They won't even go over their heads now (just over 11 pounds each).
Baby A, aka Thing One, aka *Frog:
He's finally caught up with his sister size and weight-wise, probably because of all the eating. He's our zen baby, rarely fussing, but when he really wants something (food/diaper change/relief from tummy ache/is overtired), you'll hear about it--loudly. As ashinae put it, his sister has quantity of crying--he has quality. He's very blond, with hair on top that's so fine and white you can barely see it, and darker blond hair at the base of his neck, so, basically, my kid has a baby-mullet. It's very cool... we'll let him listen to Rush and everything.
Baby B, aka Thing Two, aka **Monkey:
She's our diva, that one. She does a lot more fussing, and the poor Academic Husband spends a lot of time carrying her belly down stretched out across his arm, as it's the only sure-fire position that gets her to stop hollering when she gets really geared up. She's our little strawberry too, with her reddish hair. She's the architect of most of the 'oh dear GOD' disgusting baby stories that we try not to tell to non-parents. Not all of them, but most, almost all involving emergency baths in the sink.
Okay, I haven't watched Due South yet, so I don't know if I'm getting this right, but correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't my Monkey doing Paul Gross arms here?
This is Frog's official 'redneck' outfit--a sleeveless onesie that is seriously too small. I wanted to find a little can of chew to put in his hand.
For everyone who's ever wondered how I bottle feed two babies at the same time.
Obligatory baby bath time pictures. One in the sink, the second in a rubber dinghy, neither of them in an actual bathtub, baby or otherwise, both of the Monkey. Like I said--she does gross things. She's just lucky I haven't used a hose on her yet.
The Frog, trying to escape over my shoulder, and showing off just how cute and chubby he is now. No more frighteningly skinny babies!
Monkey and Frog, colour coded correctly for once, for ease of the audience.
*We call him the frog because when he's resting against your chest, he tucks his legs up and completely frogs up on you. Same if he's on his tummy.
**She became the monkey because she's the little mischief, and because she's the one who sprawls out, arms and legs everywhere. She'll be swinging from the banister before we know it.