Hi, all. Fletcher, here. I’m a talker, see. I chatter and coo at Daddy and make him laugh. I smile cause I want to now, not just cause I’m “concentrating”. I “concentrated” my first stinkie dipey and Mommy didn’t like it for some reason. Hummph. I was proud of it. Why wasn’t she? I like it when Daddy and Mommy blow raspberries. It makes me get all wide-eyed and giggle. I weigh 12 lbs! Mommy grabbed me and we both stepped on the scale. I’m generally a happy baby, till I get hungry, wet, poopy, gassy, or tired. I was not very well-behaved on Saturday. I went with Mommy to Papa and Mimi’s house to have birthday with them. Mommy turned 31 on Tuesday, so Papa was in a gift-giving mood. I decided to show out and scream for no discernable reason. It was just fun, but shhhh! Don’t tell Mommy and Daddy. I’ve got ’em eating out of the palm of my hand! Lots of times, I get food when I do that. Mommy had to miss her honorary dinner with the rest of the family till Mimi came and rescued me from her. I fell asleep then, so I hope Mommy saw how it was done! My cousin T was walking all over the place, the big show-off! Just wait till I get all big and one. I’ll impress everyone with my heretofore unrealized talents. Mommy says she sees broken bones and stitches in our future. What are stitches? And why are they in my future? I CAN do it. I think. I’ll keep up with him, I know it…
till I realized it was my child screaming and not my alarm. I’m pretty sure this makes me a bad parent, or at least one of the slow learners.
So, yesterday morning, I get up and head down the hall for a little waste management, Mini-me style, and the kid starts with the food retrieval sequence 1.0. My husband then gets up to come help me (what he really does is make faces and distract the spawn). We don’t wear clothes to bed, and we thought the roommate was at his girlfriend’s house. We thought wrong. All of a sudden, we hear the kaboom of a slamming door and realize that we’re about to be exposed. I finish the dipey change, my husband scoops up the young’un, and we run, crouched like two criminals holding the bank bag and covered in exploding dye, back to the bedroom. Whew. We made it, but I think we’re going to invest in bathrobes. No, I never have a normal day.
my offspring. He’s sitting in his little bumbo chair at 10 weeks old! *squeeeeee!!!* I’m only a little bit proud. Just a little. Yeah, that’s a fist bump he’s giving you. He’s all cool and well adjusted like that. 
And I’m sick. I have the snots. My once a year snot-fest decided to make reservations for this weekend, naturally. The baby isn’t sick, though. It’s just allergies. But my head feels like it’s going to implode. Seriously? My poor husband. I know he feels neglected. The one day a year when you’re supposed to make more effort than most, and my nose feels like Niagra Falls in a flood. I’m not worried about gifts or anything, I just wish I felt better. My child is sleeping like a log at the moment, which is wonderful, and I’m going to make dinner tonight (not that I’ll be able to taste it). My birthday is in a few days, so maybe I’ll feel better by then. And then I’ll be able to taste the birthday french fries he promised me. Please excuse the briefness of this post, I’m going to drip on the keyboard if I don’t run now.
Hi, all. Fletcher’s evil twin Poutface, here. Vengeance is MINE. I went to the bad place again today. I grew 3lbs and 2 inches in 4 weeks. But enough about that. They made me cold, they stuck bad stingy things in my legs, and stuck stuff in my booty. Again. I got them all back, though. At least, Mommy and Daddy the crazy people who let them do this to me! I made stinkies, and gave everyone a golden shower. (Mommy snickers every time I do that. How come?) And do you know, when we got home, Mommy and Daddy the mean people stuck more stuff in my booty that was cold???!!??? Who does that to a little guy? Huh? Who! Anyway, I pooped (a lot). Mommy and Daddy were laughing at me, too, cause I snorted while I was *ahem* concentrating. I am most seriously displeased, to quote Mommy and one of her books she’s always reading. Something about pride… or was it prejudice? I don’t know. And I don’t care. I’m mad. And I’m gonna stay mad for the rest of my life. Till Daddy tickles me. Or Mommy feeds me. Or plays with my piggies.
I did it. I consulted Dr. Google. My offspring hasn’t pooped in 24 hours. I got concerned, and (not wanting to be the crazy nurse so-everything-is-blown-out-of-proportion mother) I looked it up on Google instead of calling the pediatrician. Come to find out, this is somewhat normal for his age. Course, then they went on to say that crying while grunting and straining may indicate constipation. He’s been doing that. So…is it normal, or is it the real thing? *sigh* And so I become the crazy nurse so-everything-is-blown-out-of-proportion mother. Dr. Google told me to mix 1 tsp of Karo Syrup with 4 oz of water (Distilled, not tap. So I boiled it.) and that should take care of things. How soon? Just wondering when I should get out the drop cloth, you know. I decided to give him the syrup and water just as a precaution. I’ll let you know how it comes out. *snicker* Sorry, couldn’t help myself. I’m currently watching Spaceballs, so my considerable store of toilet humor is making a bid for freedom. When he was crying, I decided we were suffering from “Fletch-ulence”. I know. I need therapy.
My baby is the most ridiculously beautiful baby ever, but perhaps I’m just a smidge biased. I just love his smiles.
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