On Monday, the boys had their pediatrician checkups and we're happy to say they're all healthy as can be (too bad the same can't be said for us...we've taught them to share so well that they joyfully passed on their colds when they were done with them. The worst part is that I've lost my voice--which my students may enjoy, but it wreaks havoc on me trying to corral the kids. Now they tune me out even more than usual and I have to use words like "chocolate"; "movie" and "birthday presents" before they'll even look my way).
At any rate, at 7 months, Eamon is a whopping 19 lbs 4 oz and 27 inches long. 50% in height and 60ish% in weight. No surprises there... he didn't get the nickname "Chunk" from being a waif. Colin once again showed his penchant for perfection measuring in at 41 lbs and 41 inches. (Last year at his 3 year check up he was 37 lbs and 37 inches... somehow he's managed to utilize biofeedback techniques so his numbers always "match"... matching is big with Colin, you'll find). Liam's numbers weren't up for renewal, we'll have to wait for May for that, though he did give our pediatrician his two cents when he decided to go into an endless chant of "You dumb, you dumb, you dumb" after I told him he couldn't ride on her twirly stool. He then proceeded to take the binky from poor Eamon who'd just had 4 shots and drop it into the nasty depths behind the exam table. Even our ped, who is generally very low key and relaxed, recommended we sterilize the hell out of that thing before giving it back to the baby-- no worries, I had a spare in my pocket and thwarted Liam's evil plan without batting a lash.
Because one day of being trapped in a tiny square room with three miscreants wasn't enough, Clara had HER yearly vet checkup on the following day. They really need to make exam rooms bigger, install TVs and laughing gas dispensers, and in this case, NOT leave a very fetching specimen cup containing all the ticks they've EVER removed from an animal on the counter. That provided LOTS of fun for the kiddies, let me tell you. This time, the boys weren't SO BAD except they insisted on sitting UNDER the exam table the whole time and freaked the poor vet tech out because she insisted they must be in contact with some kind of germs. Hey, as long as they're not eating out of the biohazard trash, I consider it a good day. And to be fair to Clara, SHE at least was good and only got skittish once when the decibel level of the kids got so high during her vaccinations that her eardrums must have cracked. Also to be fair, I'm posting a photo of the poor girl who was neglected in the "Meet the Players" blog... she WAS our first baby. Albeit one who never requires a diaper change, sleeps 20 hours a day, and can be left home alone for 12 hours. Why people get dogs to "practice" is beyond me. Newsflash: they're a lot easier than kids (even if they do take up just as much of the bed).
The week ended well (for me at least ... I work Wednesday and Friday so Chris had to deal with the boys' antics while my parents are basking in the Italian sun). Colin had a birthday party at his school, even got a special hat and book as a gift from his teachers and was delighted with the cookies that magically appeared for his class at snacktime (someone actually had to stay up half the night making them, ahem...). Colin and I made some lovely leaf rubbings with the last of the leaves that haven't covered our yard, and Liam did his part to pick up some of the detritus (even if he did stomp his pile into smithereens after he raked it). Preparations for Colin's "kiddie" party go into full swing this weekend as Monday morning we're expecting 15 preschoolers (and their parents) to descend on us and eat cake, play games and generally destroy our home.