Bunnies ate my feet

Lanier models her bunny shoes


 

Getting bigger

This past Friday Dana took the girls in to be weighed so that we could up the dosage of there reflux medicine. The bigger they get the high the dosage.

Harlan 10lbs, 12 ozs
Lanier 11lbs 11ozs

Lanier still has lead in the weight department. With this extra little bit of weight, it has allowed her to take the lead in the tummy time activities. She can really hold her head up and start that crawl thing, altogether she doesn't go anywhere. We are still a ways from her starting to crawl.

Harlan's tummy time seem to consist of sucking on her hand while on her tummy time mat. Although she has made good progress in the last week and is getting the hang of holding her head up

McKenzie and Harlan

 

New stuff, sold stuff and learning

Well as we go through the baby and twin experience, we have learned a few things. Now these things may only apply to us since we have twins.

1. Changing table was a waste. We have done most of our changes in the crib or on the floor.
2. Must have cradle swings
3. No time is a good time to give medicine. They don't like it anytime.

Sales

Well Dana has been hitting the baby sales both as a buyer and seller. We had one down the street at a local church. We got some old maternity clothes, baby stuff we thought we would need but didn't, and other items together to sell. We took nearly 75 items and sold all but like 6 items. We also picked up some baby stuff for a good price.

The hair and Lanier

Well we had quite the little scare, or at least it made our hearts race a good bit. We were getting ready to head over to the grandparents house. Dana was dressing the girls and then was going to feed them. I was taking a shower. When I finished my shower, Lanier was screaming up a storm, at first thought it was because momma was dressing Harlan and not paying attention to her. So I went over and picked her up to try and sooth her. Well in the process I happened to notice her hand. She had somehow managed to take a strand of Dana’s hair and wrap it around her finger. It was so tight that the finger was bright red and it was actually drawing a small amount of blood from the underside of the finger.

Well we both jumped into action to try and remove the hair. After a few minutes we were able to get a pair of tweezers under the hair and pop it loose. The second it came loose, Lanier stopped crying and Mom and Dad breathed a sigh of relieve. For a bit there we didn’t think would be able to get it off, because Lanier was not helping much by keeping her hand in a tight ball.

Well after that all was well until that night she tried to do it again, but we caught it before it got tight.

Well apparently Lanier will grow up to be a magician because we can’t figure out how she is managing to wrap that little string of hair so tight. But all is well now and she only has a small mark to show that it had happened.

Mom did better than the Professionals

Here are some pics that mom did. She figured if the professionals can use a bean bag chair and a blanket, then why not her. I say she did rather well with these. She keeps this up, we'll have to upgrade the camera and get some super shots.



 

Thanks to Dave Barry, he sums it up

Hope Dave Barry doesn't get too mad on this one, but Dana and I laughed and cried until it hurt.

A change is in the air
BY DAVE BARRY
(This classic Dave Barry column was originally published on May 7, 2000.)
When people ask me, ''Dave, what's it like to have a newborn baby in the household?'' I immediately answer: ''...''
This is because I am sleeping. I spend a lot of my day in an unconscious state, because my 2-month-old daughter, Sophie, does not believe in sleeping at night. She feels that the nighttime hours are best used for making loud, inexplicable, Exorcist-style noises. At 3:30 a.m., her bassinet will suddenly start shaking like an unbalanced clothes dryer and erupt with a wide range of squeaks, gurgles, chirps, snorts, snuffles, grunts, etc. It does not sound like there's a lone baby in there. It sounds like the entire Barnyard of the Demons. (Which would be an excellent name for a band.)
Sophie routinely makes noises that cannot be explained by the known laws of physics. Recently, some friends came over to admire her, and we had her all dressed up in a cute little baby outfit featuring little bloomers with cherries on them, and while everybody was gathered around admiring how sweet and delicate and innocent she looked, Sophie -- who is, physically, no larger than a standard pumpkin -- cut loose with a series of massive, resonating, bloomer-inflating bodily blasts that you would think could be produced only by a 350-pound man who had just won a burrito-eating contest. If I had not been holding her firmly at the time, I believe she would have propelled herself, missile-style, through the ceiling.
''How ... cute!'' our friends said, as the aroma wafted around us, fog-like.
I'm not saying that all Sophie does is make noises. As a brand-new human being with an inquisitive mind, she is also exploring the mystery and magic of the world around her, by which I mean she is trying to get her hands completely into her mouth. This is her primary goal in life.
Her arms and legs constantly wave around in a random manner, and every now and then, when a hand happens to land on her mouth, she becomes excited and starts sucking on it like crazy. But then, without warning, the arm yanks the hand away, which makes Sophie VERY angry. If she ever finds out who is operating her arms, she is going to give that person a piece of her mind, if she ever figures out how to talk.
Yes, it's an exciting time in our household, a time of learning and growing and having plastic bags of frozen breast milk in the freezer next to the Tater Tots. In our family, we strongly believe in breast-feeding, which has many benefits, the main one being: Men cannot do it. Not that I don't contribute! I'm always giving my wife useful breast-feeding pointers, such as: ''Time for you to breast-feed her!'' And: ''Time for you to breast-feed her again!'' And: ``I would gladly breast-feed her, but, tragically, I am a man.''
(Actually, I suspect that men CAN breast-feed; it's just that, in the entire history of the human race, no man has ever actually tried.)
I do change diapers. A LOT. It is a known baby fact that babies put out far more material than they take in; physicists now believe that babies account for most of the matter in the universe. If you were to stack up all the diapers I have changed in just two months, one on top of the other, you would never be invited to a party again for the rest of your life.
Our house would smell like a malfunctioning sewage plant, except that we have a product called the Diaper Genie, which encloses diapers in a long, odor-proof plastic bag. As a parent, I believe this is the greatest of all humanity's inventions, including low-fat Cheez-Its. You take your diaper, you put it into your Diaper Genie, you twist the plastic bag, and, as the French say, Voila! (Literally, ''You are not smelling any more the poop.'' )
When your Diaper Genie fills up, you open the bottom and remove an amazing, 15-foot-long, segmented, caterpillar-like Chain of Doodies. We've been throwing these away, but it seems to me we ought to be turning them over to the U.S. Air Force as a potentially devastating military weapon.
Another excellent item of modern baby technology is the battery-powered swing. When your baby is in a bad mood because she cannot get her hand inside her mouth, you put her in this swing and let it rock her gently into a blissful state of suspended baby animation lasting long enough that sometimes you can actually take a shower. This device works so well that I think we should make a larger version and use it to calm hyperactive adults.
If you're a psychiatric professional who would like to explore this idea, let's schedule a meeting. I want to sleep on your couch.

Post Bath

Harlan after getting a bath. With 2 babies you have to use what you have near by. So her car seat makes a great resting spot after a bath while Lanier is getting cleaned.


 

New Play Thing

Harlan and Lanier

4 Generations

Four Generations
From the left, Carol (Dana's Mom), Lanier, Great Grandma. Harlan, Dana