Happy 2 month birthday to Hammie! It's hard to believe he's really two months old already, but that appears by all calculations to be the case. He has chosen to mark this important time when we transition from counting his age in weeks to when we count his age in months by allowing me to count the time he sleeps at night in minutes instead of in hours. woohoo. He had been doing so well in the sleep department that I briefly believed in a kind and caring God who had answered my prayers that my second child would be a good sleeper (to make up for my first child who, as far I can recall, didn't sleep at all for roughly 6 months). By "well" I mean he had at least one solid 3 to 3 1/2 hour stretch of sleep and then usually two 2 to 2 1/2 hour stretches. This may not seem impressive to some people, but after Fraser I felt this amount of sleep was nothing short of a miracle.

Now, however, I am back to believing in a vindictive and vengeful God, who is clearly punishing me for some horrible misdeeds in a previous life (I swear I have done nothing in this lifetime to deserve this). Last night Hammie's longest stretch of sleep was almost two hours and his shortest was 45 minutes. I am employing the old standby of "denial" to explain this change, and assuming Hammie is just going through a growth spurt right now. My friend Denial tells me this change will be short lived and as soon as the spurt is over Hammie will go back to sleeping longer. Of course denial also informs me that visitors to my house don't really notice I haven't vacuumed in two weeks (giant wads of cat fur on the carpet notwithstanding) and the size ten jeans I am currently squishing my fat butt into aren't really so far off from the size I wore before I had children.

One note of business to attend to, I forgot to mention before that Fraser had his 18 month visit to the doctor last week (when he was 19 and a half months old). He is now 33 3/4 inches tall and weighs 26 lbs 12 ounces. He hasn't gained much weight since his last appointment which means he is now in the 85th percentile for height and the 60th percentile for weight. Amazingly, Dr. Monkeybutt, the same doctor who told me to switch Fraser to 2% milk at his last appointment because he was concerned Fraser was getting too fat (we continued to give him whole milk because I thought Fraser was fine) now expressed concern that Fraser isn't gaining enough weight and wants me to keep and eye on that. Yeah. Is anyone else beginning to doubt whether anyone in the medical profession has a friggin clue what they are talking about? I think Fraser's lack of weight gain is likely due to the weight he lost when he was sick. He still has a hearty appetite and is willing to try a variety of foods so, as usual, I intend to ignore Dr. Monkeybutt and continue on my merry way.

Finally, here is a very nice photo of Andy reading to his two boys (Hammie is listening intently). I figured I should say something nice about my dear husband since it occurred to me as I was skimming back over some old posts the other night that I don't generally have too many complementary things to say about him here. (Hey, I have to vent somewhere and far better for me to do it here and save my marriage and my breath.) So, Andy has been very helpful since Hammie arrived, particularly by playing with and otherwise entertaining Fraser. (This is especially important as Fraser has recently started randomly pointing at Hammie and waving bye bye. Fraser does this frequently enough that I am beginning to wonder what he is planning...) Andy has, in general, also been much more realistic about the amount of "personal" time he can expect to have now that we have two children. That is to say, none, unless you count the time you are asleep, in the shower, or those magical occasions when you actually are able to go to the bathroom by yourself.

Of course my acknowledgement of his helpfulness and usefulness didn't stop Andy from going away on business for an entire night tonight, leaving me to fend for my sorely-outnumbered self. I am sure everything will run smoothly in his absence, however, especially since I have my good friend Denial here to back me up. Just to be on the safe side though, if no one has heard from me in a few days would you mind calling the police and requesting a driveby wellness check for me? If they see two little heathens in the front yard wearing loin clothes and carrying pitchforks it might indicate something is amiss.