Tomorrow is my sixteen-week appointment with Dr. Fabulous. Cutie #3 is starting to kick and squirm, by far the absolute best part of being pregnant. Today, NDSS released our promo for the Buddy Walk on Washington with our Congressman. Cutie #1 is still wearing his way-too-small Superman costume on a regular basis (this kid seriously cracks me up).
Cutie #2 is saying and signing “climb”, “train” and “game” with such precision that I am nearly convinced to get the Thomas the Tank Engine puzzle down off the shelf for her; however, since she’s already found herself a stool, is trying to climb the wall, and (so far) remains safe, I will let her keep trying for a minute. Raising independent kids is a double-edged sword.
It’s November and 70 F in the mountains. Life couldn’t be much better.
This week Cutie #1 learned to make phone calls independently. That sounds like a good thing, right? Poor Grandma Rapids. He neglected to acquire the skill of polite turn-taking in phone conversations and proceeded to talk her ear off. Who doesn’t want to hear about the incredible Bat Jet he made by himself with the Lego set his mom bribed him with this week?
Bribery works. #BestParentingTechniqueEver #NoJudging
Flu vaccines went off without a complaint, a hitch, or even a tear.
“That didn’t even hurt,” he said.
“Would you like another one,” I heard myself respond. (What is wrong with me?)
“Nope. I’m good. Let’s go get some Legos.”
End of story.
On the way home tonight, I asked the kids, “What do you think we should call the baby?”
Cutie #1 responds, “Michael.”
“Or Duckhead.”
“Maybe Tiger.”
Duckhead? I can’t imagine anything might go awry with that name.
Back to the drawing board on that one.
Chronic Confusion 
Duck head. Where did that come from.
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