Louis is still my big baby and without a doubt the most demanding. If someone is screaming to be fed in the middle of the night, it’s Louis. He’s also my gregarious baby–batting his eye lashes at you and smiling three times more than his brother.
We still have no idea what color his eyes are. At first, it seemed they were definitely brown, when you look at them, though, there seems to be some other stuff going on in there as well. They won’t be blue, but we haven’t ruled out green, or gray either. No matter what, he seems to have flecks of color in side of them like my younger brother.
Our big issue with Louis is that he seems to have a head/neck issue of some sort. He always looks in one direction. He can see in both directions (so it seems), but when he’s resting, he always ends up with his head the same way. So much so, that he’s developed a flat spot on the back of his head. We’ll ask the pediatrician about it, but in the mean time we’re rolling up blankets and tucking them under his head to keep it straight and putting out most interesting stuff on the other side. By interesting, I of course mean a glowing, light-up sea horse–those are all the rage in baby land these days.
August. August is my sweetie. Even when he’s “crying,” it’s more of a fuss. He’s very expressive and will wrinkle his tiny brow or stick out his lower lip to let you know how he’s feeling. He is much stingier with the smiles than Louis, but on the rare occasion he lets you see one, you’ll see it looks just like his Daddy’s.
In general, August looks a lot like Charlie and has his coloring as well. His hair is a reddish blonde, much like Charlie’s was. His eyes are grayer than Charlie’s were at this age, but still very light. Charlie seems to connect a lot more with August, and I wonder if it’s because he likes the way he looks, but it more likely because he scream about 75% less than Louis.
August’s only apparent scar of of prematurity is a hemangioma on his right arm. If you’re unfamiliar with the term, Google will tell you that it’s like a strawberry birthmark. That doesn’t really do it justice. On August, it’s a raised patch of redness that’s about an inch across. Pretty much scared the Bazeebus out of me when I got a look at if after weeks of him being wrapped up in blankets at NICU. The pediatrician assures me that it will be just fine, and should disappear on its own when he turn about two. In the meantime we just keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn’t try to take over or anything.
And Charlie. There have been many question about the big brother and let me say that he is doing fantastic. He has handled the twins with a lot of grace. He smiles at them from time to time, looks them over with curiosity, and has even reached out his hand to give them a little pat–big stuff for my little guy.
On his own, he continues to thrive. I continue to work on the process we started before the babies were born–teaching him to read new words, and then using those words to demonstrate knowledge. The layers of learning can be a little arduous sometimes–I know he can identify blue and yellow!–but I know that this is laying the foundation for bigger things, so I keep at it. We’re also slowly starting back with ABR. Before I got pregnant, we averaged90 minutes a day. It’s going to be a bit before we can get back to that, but I know we can.
He’s also just plain growing up. More and more, he responds appropriately to the things you say: he turns off the TV if you ask him, holds out his hand when it’s time to go somewhere, smiles when he gets home from school. Some days it feels like a million tiny miracles.
Three kids who can’t walk is incredibly hard physically–most nights I fall into bed with aching bones and a screaming back. It takes three trips to get everyone in the car and the thermometer on my back porch is regularly reading 100 degrees. I sweat and lift, carry and cart. But my heart? It is good.