In raising two boys there is a lot of blood, sweat and tears. Today the blood and tears were Cole's and the sweat was mine.
I was vacuuming the living room. Cole was playing in the room and Logan was sitting in his bouncy inspecting my work. Cole ran out of the room one second and the next second he ran back into the room crying and holding his head. It took me a while to calm him down and then I sat him down on the counter to clean off the blood that was beginning to appear. That is when I realized his entire brow bone was swelling and he was beginning to look like the huntch back of Notre Dame in the face.
I was so nervous. I was trying to decide whether or not to take him to the hospital to make sure he didn't have a concussion or eye damage. I called my neighbor for a second opinion (she has two boys, and I was sure she had some experience in this area), but alas, she was not home. I then called my doctor to see if I could bring him by and determine if he needed to go to the emergency room.
He didn't. He just had the beginnings of a black eye (it has turned darker throughout the day) and the nurse said eyes just tend to swell up. I asked her if she was sure he didn't some how break his face. She assured me that he did not.
Then I realized the scary truth. I have a boy. A boy that, with his activity and curiousity level, that will probably get hurt many, many more times. Then I realized the even scarier truth. I have two boys.
Here is Cole trying to put on Daddy's helmet. You can almost hear the wheels turning.
There is one big problem (other than the fact that it is too big)--it is backwards. This is especially notable because this is one trick Grampa (Fred) is always trying to pull. There are lots of similarities between the two of them--the backward helmet wearing, the complete and total love of trains and putting the track together (and taking them apart again and putting them back together again), the working with tools, the constant attempts to be near the laptop...
We are wondering if we have another crazy physicist on our hands!
Logan turned two months on Sunday. He is now 23 and 3/4 inches and 13lbs. He is growing like crazy. I keep trying to tell him he can sleep longer than 4 hours at night, but he hasn't listened to me yet.
Here are some pictures...
The Sleeping Logan
Yay! I am 2 months!
I still can't get over his hair color. According to family, Zach's mom (Gramma) and my grandmother (Peg) and my great grandmother (Trudy) had red hair. I love it!!!
To help Nick prepare for the upcoming arrival of his son (Yes! It's a boy!) in December, Logan decided to break him in a bit.
Uncle Nick swore he felt something warm on his leg, and I assured him that sometimes it felt warm through the diaper and Gramma (Vicki) backed me up saying the diapers these days don't normally leak (if they are changed enough, and we had just recently changed Logan).
When his picked Logan up off his lap there indeed was a wet spot. Nick was forced to borrow shorts and underwear since Logan took the liberty of wetting Nick's.
This may have been Logan's retaliation for Nick "learning" to hold a baby. There might have been some whiplash involved while a very nervous mother looked on.