good times

It's been a good couple of days here. Not only have we had a few nights of reasonably good sleep, but I finally caught Anja's elusive smile on (digital) film. And someone awesome at preschool taught Nate the chicken dance (please excuse my horrible singing - I am tired!)

wanna buy an s?

I am tempting fate by announcing this publicly, but Anja slept until 5am two nights in a row! You could knock me over with a feather (and not because I'm too exhausted to stand). Since Thad and I are still on our new-parent bedtime schedule, I got seven straight hours of sleep... gasp! Babies would be much easier if they did this all the time. I'm still finding balancing two kids challenging (for instance, how to get from the car into the grocery store during a pouring rainstorm) but it is much more manageable when mildly rested.

In the latest chapter of our Adventures in S*@#, yesterday Nate "pooped an S" in the potty. I remember our friend Julia pooping an L while she was potty training. Could this be training for the day when Nate first writes his name in snow? I really hope he doesn't do so with excrement. I'd be so proud.

a short conversation

[Nate is exiting the house]

me: Have fun at school, honey!

Nate: Have fun at home, honey!

what else?

In case you haven't heard enough about my kids' excrement, here's another gem from this morning. For some unknown reason (perhaps it was that I hadn't had my coffee yet?) I dressed Anja in a cute-but-difficult-to-put-on outfit this morning. And, like many a babe, she proceeded to have a major diaper blow out a few hours later. And boy, was it a big one. Poop was oozing out from all edges of the diaper. When removing said cute outfit I had to pull it over her head and ended up smearing the gigantic poo even farther up her back. After putting a new diaper on, I sat her up facing toward me so I could wipe her back off. And at that very same moment she projectile vomits. 'Nuff said.

the scoop

Here's Nate with the excavator he got as a special treat for pooping on the potty. Personally, I think a dump truck would have been more appropriate.

splish splash

Actually, bath time was a while ago, but I've just downloaded the pictures from my camera. Anja seems to like getting a bath. Or at least she doesn't dislike it. I can't think of anything clever, amusing, or interesting to say, so I will just post a couple of pictures of my cuteie patootie daughter (who I think is looking more and more like her big brother).

going back in time

My sleep deprivation is getting to me and I realized I haven't updated you all on Anja's month one stats. Normally, a two-week delay isn't that big of a deal, but the kid is only six weeks old so I'm a third of her lifetime behind. Not only that, but I didn't write down any of the details from her doctor's appointment, so I am relying on my not-so-functional brain to regurgitate her stats. Here goes nothing... Anja is growing at a normal pace and was 8 1/2 pounds at her one month appointment (I'm guessing she's 9 or 9 1/2 pounds now). She may have grown two inches since she was born. Her head circumference is an unknown but healthy measurement bigger. Her growth charts are normal and unremarkable. Exciting, to say the least!

On the subject of sleep deprivation, it has come to my attention that Thad and I have very different, yet equally annoying, issues with falling back asleep. I can't shut my brain off, and it's worse at 3am when all is quiet. I try to go to sleep, yet my brain is racing with completely unimportant, often asinine, thoughts. One night I was up thinking about high school (thank you Facebook). The next night I was up thinking about Glee. As if it wasn't annoying enough having flashbacks to my own high school, thinking about a fictional one is even more irritating. Then my thoughts switched to ways of making the window shades in Nate's room fit better. On the other hand, Thad's brain goes completely blank. This would normally be a good sleep-inducing technique, but he will then get a burst of something popping into his head randomly. The other night he kept hearing Emmett "Doc" Brown from Back to the Future yelling, "One point twenty one gigawatts!"