This has been another one of those rough weeks, although I don't think it's totally the boys' fault. On Wednesday they had their follow-up doctor's visit about their anemia. Their hemoglobin has gone up about two points, which is a really good sign. They have about 3 more points to go before they're out of the woods. Their platelet count was also up, though. It could be a symptom of the anemia, or something else. We've been referred to a hematologist just to be sure. There's no emergency or anything so it'll be a few weeks before we see him or her.
The boys are doing pretty well sleeping in their cribs at night, until about 5am. At that point they'll both just cry and cry until we go in and get them. Or, I can get them before they cry and they'll sleep with me for another 2.5hrs. We let them CIO one morning and Alex is still hoarse. I also tried CIO for their naps and it was a disaster. They both cried for over 40min before I went in and got them. It wasn't a mad cry, but a sad one. So we're kind of stuck right now on the whole sleeping thing.
The boys have been acting goofy this week. Both thought today it would be fun to baby babble in a falsetto. All. Day. Long. Sometimes Alex would try to squeal so high, nothing would come out (or maybe only dogs could hear him). They're also still really super attached to me. Even if I just stand to walk across the living room, one or both will start crying. I was reading them books on the floor and every few minutes one of them would lean in towards me for a hug.
For Valentine's Day I made foot prints of the boys with red paint. I had the heels overlap so they sort of look like hearts. I thought it would be easy - slap some paint on their feet, stamp them, and done. So I strip Alex down to a diaper, sit him in my lap, and paint the first foot. He immediately grabs it with both hands and tries to eat it. Uhh... We're now both covered in red paint. I take him to the kitchen sink and hose him off. We try again. I stick a gallon bag over the foot I'm not going to paint first. This distracts him enough for me to paint and stamp the first foot. I swap the plastic bag and repeat. He manages to get the bag off and we're now both sporting some red tribal markings. I carry him back to the sink for another ghetto bath. Zach gets the same treatment.
On Friday we met Jim at Cracker Barrel for lunch. On a whim, we have the waitress bring us a high chair. We sat Alex in it and strapped him in. He immediately burst into tears. Luckily we had a second boy who loved the thing. We pulled him up to the table and Zach just went to town. He tried biting the table, eating the menus, grabbing our plates, and flirting with everyone around us. The whole time Alex clutched Jim - a total daddy's boy.
Alex and Jim, with Zach sitting like a big boy
Sunday night after we got home from Poppa and Granny J's, the boys and I piled on the couch to watch the winter olympics while Jim took a chair nap. I had Alex laying next to me with his head on my arm, while Zach was sitting on my stomach. They were alternating between playing with toys/remotes, and laughing at me while I kissed them. It was one of those moments that just melts your heart and you hate for it to end. But they needed to take their iron and eat dinner.
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