Here is Fraser, ready to go into his very first day of preschool! He was great about being dropped off, no tears or panic at all. To be honest, I was a little sad about that. I'm not saying I wanted him to be one of those kids that was crying hysterically and trying to follow their parents out of the building, but a little leg holding and maybe a quivering lip would have been nice. I actually did not cry either (I know, amazing). It was not, however, because I wasn't sad, but rather because I was absolutely terrified. There is no time to cry while the lion is chasing you. I was so worried that he would be sad, that the other kids would be mean to him, that the teacher wouldn't pay enough attention to him, that he would get lost somehow or feel like I had abandoned him. As it turned out I probably didn't need to worry. He had lots to say about his day when we picked him up, and aside from being annoyed that I didn't know what the name of the little boy in the brown striped shirt was, he seemed to have a good day.

My parents took us all out of Friendly's for lunch to celebrate Fraser's first day, and aside from Hammie knocking a full glass of soda over, it went very smoothly. Even Eleanor was cooperative and slept most of the time (not the entire time, like she did at the Olive Garden last weekend, but still pretty good).

Hammie can say Eleanor now, though he frequently shortens her name to "Nor." Fraser has gone in the opposite direction and now calls his sister "Eleanor Victoria" most of the time. My mom explained to Fraser that Eleanor has the same middle name as Mommy, "Alexzandra Victoria" and Keekey "Elspeth Victoria." When my mom asked Fraser, "So, what is Mommy's name?" he answered very promptly, "Mommy Victoria!" Even cuter, we have been trying to explain to Fraser that his name is actually "Donald Fraser McBeth" so in case anyone at school calls him Donald he won't simply stare at them like they are insane. At first he was skeptical of the whole "Donald" concept, but after he thought it over for awhile he came to me and asked, "Mommy, so my name is McDonald Fraser McBeth?" I feel compelled to point out that he gets the "McDonald" idea from the song, not the fast food joint, and actually refers to the restaurant as "Old McDonalds" when he references it.

Eleanor had her one month doctor's appointment last Wednesday, and aside from a skin infection that looks like baby acne, she is doing well. She is up to 10 pounds 3 ounces, and starting to look more and more like a baby and less like a newborn. She is not, however, starting to sleep any better than a newborn yet. As you can see from the photo of me from the Olive Garden last weekend, I think the sleep deprivation is starting to wear on me. At least this morning I got her to go back to sleep again after she got up to eat at 5:30 (I think that was the fifth time she was up, after finally falling asleep at 10:00 after a solid 2 hour cranky period the night before, but to be honest I'm not really sure since I have found it is truly soul crushing to actually figure out (1) how many times I get up each night and (2) how much actual total sleep I am surviving on). Unfortunately, my return to the land of nod was only possible since my parents are still here, and when Hammie got out of bed and came to find me at 5:30 and I simply said "Where are Keekey and Grandpa?? Go find Keekey and Grandpa!" and when he left the room I went back to bed.

So, since my parents are leaving tomorrow, the mornings of sending my one year old out of the room so I can pass out again are numbered. I would tell you how much less sleep I anticipate this turn of events will allow me, but the idea of even figuring out the number kind of makes me want to cry. At least we are coming up to a long weekend, and I can send Hammie to the other side of the bed to wake up Andy, allowing me a few more days to survive in a dense fog, before the real fun begins.