Count von Poopenstein
|Things I never thought I'd say, but now say several times a day:
"Sorry, buddy, I can't help you poop"
"Let's go see what you have for me in your pants, Count von Poopenstein"
Basically that's about all I say, day in day out. It doesn't help, though. He still believes he can eat and suck on his hands at the same time.
Owen was up for hours last night. Mostly he was eating. How can a little guy of 9 or so pounds really eat for a solid hour and a half? He doesn't spit up, and I know he is indeed getting milk (he was constantly swallowing). But his stomach must be awfully tiny. Yet he never spits up. Anyway, I've had little sleep. And Leo was up half the night too. At least no one expects coherent thoughts from me today.
Sushi with Grandma went well. All of the other customers were business people in suits. Owen still made quite a stir and once again had a line for viewing. Then my mom wanted to parade us around her office. Actually, she wanted to parade her grandson around her office. I figured that out when we saw her office. It was once home to several pictures of Schwest and I. Those have been hidden in a bookcase, now there are a bunch of photos of Owen. She has no time for children anymore; she has moved on to grandchildren.
She does have time for Raj, though. He's coming for the baptism and she specifically requested a photo of Owen and Raj. I have to say that I'll be a little miffed if Raj ends up in her office and I don't.
She also requested that I plan a ladies walking tour of Southwestern Ireland for her. I'm rather jazzed about this as I adore planning. I haven't been to SW Ireland for over 10 years, though. Anyone have any suggestions?
Schwest and Jer will have their triumphant return to the D on Saturday. Can't wait.
Oh and I have yet to mention the crazy parenting advice that I got from the step-monster on Sunday. She wants me to start Owen on rice cereal. For those not in the know, its recommended that babies start solids around 6 months. Maybe as early as 4 months, but there is some spit up reflex that prevents babies younger than that from swallowing anything solid. Owen is three weeks old. I told her that, but then she said that she started her son on solids at 2 weeks. Craz-y. At least they aren't local, I'd hate to have to deal with them wanting to babysit.