It has been brought to my attention that no posts have appeared for some time. Well, today is a perfectly fine day to fix that - another bogus milestone, two months. (look - in two weeks is it ten weeks - birthday! in two more - three months - birthday! do you see where this is going? G-D willing we make it to 5 months, also known as 20 weeks - double birthday!)
Both of the boys are well over 10 lb now, and continuing to gain. They track with their eyes consistently and reports of them smiling at people are getting to be consistent, although I do remain skeptical at the deliberate nature of the smiles. Over the previous week or so Zev added a new weapon to his arsenal - a piercing squeal / shriek. This weapon is particularly effective in close quarters, against a nearby ear. Mercifully, he does not use the weapon often. The boys have also shown occasional fondness for the hip-hop style of wearing diapers, i.e. wiggling around until even a decently tight diaper is worn *way* low in the back. This will become relevant later. I hope the whole 'diaper gangsta' fad is just a phase and they grow out of it soon.
Yesterday, during Shabbat dinner, Ben had a historic event - he met his first pretty girl (that he was not related to). An adorable 8 year old girl repeatedly called both boys 'cute' and asked to hold Ben. Zev, I believe, was busy hogging attention via a gassy stomach. Benjamin was a gentleman, i.e. he managed to not poop or vomit on the girl.
Every time I think that the poop subject matter has exhausted itself, I am proven wrong. Few days ago during a night feeding Ben and I had an event that can only be described as "severe loss of containment". I should preface this by saying that the yellow-green rule (let a pooping baby poop) has been discarded due to the (literally) acidic affects of poop on skin. It has been replaced by the "respond and contain" principle. Onward. During a night feeding I received tell-tale olfactory and auditory indications that we had a pooping event. No big deal, usually. This time, however, it was coupled with a diaper worn super-low. Well, you can imagine. In mere two minutes that it has taken Ben to pause in his meal so I could respond, the damage was done. What should have been in the diaper was in the shirt. Which acted as a strainer, as Ben's weight pressed and refined the fertilizer. The liquid filtered though the shirt, further filtered through the blanked, and the pure, refined essence of poop was deposited onto the crutch of yours truly.
Not to be outdone, Zev responded a mere couple of days later. On Friday Alla and I managed a trip to the gym between feedings (go us!) as the nanny watched the boys. When we got back, we found her cleaning the diaper basket in the downstairs bathroom. She greeted us by saying "they had a problem." The boys were fine. The room was also fine - by then. Evidently, during a diaper change, Zev waited patiently for the opportune moment of being diaperless and fired all calibers. There were no human casualties, but material damage was substantial. We were told he got two walls, the surface he was on, everything on it, and the floor. The ceiling, I believe, was safe.
ye, ye - pictures are coming. hang on.
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