Isn't that an STD?

So here's a story for you. The day after Malcolm was born, Althea came over to check on us. Then when Malcolm was 2 days old, Alison came over to check on us, as well as day 3. He had already had his newborn screening, but we decided to take him to Stella's pediatrician to establish him as a patient. We made the appointment.

On one of the check-up visits with Alison, I asked her about the little goopy eye that Malcolm had in his left eye. She simply said that it was probably a clogged tear duct and that it would clear up faster if I wiped a little breast milk in there every time I fed him. I started doing this the day that we took him to the pediatrician, Dr. Lyndy Jones.

Dr. Jones (it's funnier if you say it like the kid on Indiana Jones) has been Stella's doctor since just after she was born. She's loud, so she scares me a little bit, but I also liked her because she doesn't freak out about kids having a cold or the flu and doesn't prescribe useless antibiotics for these ailments just to pacify worried mothers. Stella has always been super healthy, so we don't see Dr. Jones very often.

Elliot and I took Malcolm in to see Dr. Jones on the Friday after Malcolm was born. She did her little tests, looked at me weird because I had him at home, and then asked if we had any other questions.

DR. JONES: "Do you have any other questions?"
ELLIOT: "Yah, he's had this little goopy eye thing . . ."
DR. JONES: (having looked at it for under 1 second) "Oh, it looks like he has some conjunctivitis caused by chlamydia. I'll just write you a script for ointment to put in his eyes twice a day . . . blah, blah, blah"

I stopped listening because I was reviewing the previous 5 seconds in my head over and over again to make sense of it. Did she just say chlamydia? She acted so nonchalant about it that I thought that surely I'd made a mistake in my head about chlamydia being an STD. No, I'm pretty sure it's an STD. Wait, maybe not. Surely she would have asked me first before blatantly accusing me of it and then giving it to my son, right?

Elliot was just as puzzled as I was. It's not like we've studied STD's, so like big idiots, WE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING! We just made our next appointments and left. By the time I got to the car, I looked like this:

I kept asking "chlamydia? . . . chlamydia? . . ."

And then after a few hours, I dropped the question and just said "chlamydia . . . chlamydia . . ."

And then a little while later after it had percolated a little bit, I put on my angry eyes and said, "CHLAMYDIA!" Elliot finally busted out his phone to look it up to confirm that, yes indeed, it is totally an STD and, yes indeed, I was just accused of having it.

After Elliot and I cleared up that neither of us has been sleeping with anyone else and therefore there is absolutely no way on this green earth that I could have chlamydia, I totally fired Dr. Jones.

At Malcolm's NEW pediatrician's office, I asked her about the goopy eye before I told her this story. She just said that it's a clogged tear duct. And it's cleared up.

The End.

Take or Retake?

I'm kind of a school picture weirdo. Growing up, I got retakes EVERY year. I don't remember my Mom saying a word about it, so I'm pretty sure that it was my decision each year. Heaven knows the retakes were horrific, so I really wonder what those first pictures looked like and if my retake decision was worth it.

KINDERGARTEN - TAKE 1

I don't want to be a weirdo with my kids' school pictures. I made Stella retake her Kindergarten pictures because in her first picture, she wasn't smiling with her teeth.

KINDERGARTEN - TAKE 2

In 1st grade I made sure we practiced her real smile. I didn't think this picture captured her real smile, but I didn't say anything. I just asked Stella if she liked the picture and she said she did, so this is what we have.

So now I have a dilemma, but you need to hear the story first because you know I love stories.

We celebrated Stella's cousin's birthday on a Monday night. School pictures were Tuesday morning. Stella's cousin had just gotten her ears pierced and therefore was no longer in need of the fabulous clip-on earrings that Grandma had given her. Grandma told Stella that she could borrow them that night. In the back of my head, I knew it was a bad idea, but I'm notorious for not choosing enough battles, so I didn't say anything.

The next morning Stella came out of her room wearing the said earrings. I told her that she wasn't allowed to take the earrings to school and that she'd need to put them away. We finished getting ready for school.

I went into Stella's room to hurry her along and noticed that she was no longer wearing the earrings. I asked her where they were and, looking back on it now, she semi-frantically told me that they were in her special jewelry box that she was awkwardly trying to put away/hide in her book shelves.

The knock on the door ended the conversation and a kiss goodbye had her out the door and into the carpool van to school.

I didn't even think of those earrings again until I saw them on Stella's ears when I picked her up from school that afternoon. Yes, those earrings. You know, the ones that are in her "special jewelry box" that is supposed to be in her room at home. She got into the car with the other carpool kids and I said, "Please tell me you didn't wear those for your school picture!"

So here's the dilemma: I think the earrings look ridiculous on a 7-year-old girl and want her to get retakes. On the other hand, now that I'm not extremely angry at her anymore about lying and wearing the ridiculous earrings, it makes for a really good story that we can tease her about when she's older. She feels bad about the pictures because I did get so mad at her (not as mad as I could have been . . . thank goodness I had to drop off 3 carpool kids at home before I got to talk to her . . . great cooldown time). She wants retakes, but I think that it's funny and she looks so cute.

So should we keep this picture as her official 2nd Grade photo, or should we let the scanned picture go down in Stella History with the silly story and get retakes? Vote on the poll to the left of my blog.

In other news, when did Stella grow up so fast?

RESULTS: Total 27 votes - 59% (16 votes) said KEEP the picture, 14% (4 votes) said RETAKE, and 25% (7 votes) said Let STELLA CHOOSE.

Stella wants to keep the picture and promises me that she won't wear earrings for the class picture they are taking on the 8th. We shall see.

Malcolm's Birth Story - Part III

(last part, I promise . . . not the last time I actually talk about his birth, but for the official story, this is the last of it)

I am so amazed that a little boy that is is 45 minutes old knows exactly how to nurse. I've missed nursing so much. I absolutely loved nursing Stella and have been so excited to have this special time with Malcolm.

12:00ish a.m. - Alison and Althea came back to the bedroom to finish filling out paperwork with us and to check Malcolm. They did all of the testing right there at the end of our bed with us watching. No one had to whisk him away to a different room and I could be touching him the entire time if I wanted. We mostly just watched. I was still on an adrenaline high and sort of giggling, Elliot was very happy, but very exhausted.

Alison also told us about the awesome placenta. First of all, the umbilical cord was really long. Second, the placenta had an anomaly. It had an extra lobe which could mean a few things:
1) it was a failed twin,
2) the placenta was attached to the uterus and then pulled away after another section attached somewhere else,
3) it grew an extra lobe for added nutrition.
. . . whatever the case may be, I thanked the placenta for nourishing my baby all those months and I said my goodbyes.

Alison got a receiving blanket, put Malcolm in the middle of it, pulled all four corners together, clipped her scissor-looking apparatus on the top, and hooked her scale on top of that. I told Elliot to get a picture, thinking that was so cute like a little stork package. Turns out that's really how she weighs her babies.

Malcolm weighed 124 ounces . . . or 7 pounds 12 ounces. Much, much smaller than we all expected having been 2 weeks overdue, right?! He was 19 1/2 inches long. He had a perfect check up and was returned to our arms.

We finally started making some phone calls, though we sort of felt a little bad that it was in the middle of the night. I really wanted to call Stella, but Elliot talked me out of it.

1:00ish a.m. - Alison wanted to check me, so Elliot took the phone calls and Malcolm out to the living room. I had a "minor abrasion" as Alison called it and she stitched it all up as soon as my perineum of steel was finally able to be thoroughly numbed with several shots of lidocaine. Alison likes me because I'm not a complainer. She said that she's been kicked in the face before when she's stitching people up, but all I said is just a very calm "ow" whenever I could feel something.

Althea told me that I had to go pee before they left our home to make sure everything was working right. I was a little nervous about this because I was remember my experience after I had Stella. I absolutely COULD NOT pee after I had Stella. They had to do a catheter on me. So when I easily peed after having Malcolm, I had to announce the great news to everyone in my household! I was so excited!

Kat had been doing laundry and cleaning up while they were working on me and then she brought me some food when they were all done. Elliot returned with my baby and got into bed. I fed Malcolm again. He ate like a champ and makes the funniest little oinky noises.

2:00 a.m. - Alison, Althea, and Kat finished the clean up (we didn't have to do a thing . . . not a thing!) and left our home having admitted that this was one of the best births they've been to. Having read their Facebook status the next day, Althea said something about being so happy that she skipped down the hallway and she also called me a "strong woman," and Kat posted about the awesome placenta. Alison told me that I was was a champion birther and was pleasantly surprised that she didn't have to step in at all until I actually started pushing. I'm so grateful that they were all there to help me bring this beautiful little boy into the world.

Elliot and I cuddled with Malcolm in bed and stared at him in sleepy amazement. He was here and he was perfect. He also had some amazing bowel movements that Elliot happily cleaned up.

4:00 a.m. - We all finally fell asleep for a few hours until this happy little girl came home to meet her brother. She was so excited . . . she was finally a sister.

Malcolm's Birth Story - Part II

**This post has pictures of me in labor. You need NOT be afraid of seeing the business end of any of these pictures. Also, I may look like I'm dying, but I'm actually quite comfortable.

4:00 p.m. - Alison, my midwife, broke my water and was very pleased that the fluid was still clear, meaning that The Boy hadn't yet pooped and everything was still great and safe in there for him.

Alison had 2 other clients that were due a little after me (2 weeks ago) and they had both given birth before me. One was just a few days before me, so Alison took Althea out to go run some errands to pick up more supplies (her excuse) in the area. She left 17-year-old Kat here with us to monitor the baby every 30 minutes or so with instructions to call immediately if something interesting happened. Lucky her. She said she doesn't often get left places, but she knows that it's irritating for parents to just have to sit there and get watched, waiting for something to happen which is why Alison usually leaves. It makes sense and we were grateful to not feel like we had to entertain anybody.

Elliot and I turned on the BBC version of Pride & Prejudice (at least 5 hours) and knew we'd probably get through that and have to start all of Anne of Green Gables before the whole birthing time was over (I picked both of those movies because they have versions of my special happy place in them). I think Kat was a little bored, but soon enough she started going through the birthing supplies, sterilizing instruments and refolding towels and making sure supplies were in their proper place within the house.

I was leaning over the birthing ball the entire time Alison and Althea were gone, having to take several breaks as the rest of the fluid made it's way out. Kat monitored The Boy's heart tones several times and he was perfect. Elliot timed the contractions for an hour and they were 5-7 minutes apart with no discomfort. I got bored of that and stopped telling him when they'd start until it seemed like they got a little closer together. It's amazing how much closer they seem at 4 minutes.

I texted some family and friends to let them know that I was in my Birthing Time and that I would be turning off my phone. My birthing beads were displayed where I could be easily reminded of some of the greatest supporters I had during my pregnancy and birth, even though they weren't there with me. I love my beads and what each bead means to me and to the beautiful and inspiring women who gave them to me. Knowing that I had a cheering section out there helped me stay focused and positive in what I was about to do.

5:30 p.m. - Alison and Althea returned from running errands and found me still fairly comfortable with mild contractions 4-6 minutes apart. The Boy's heart tones were great and my blood pressure and pulse were great, as always. Alison decided to leave again and take the girls to dinner (in the area). Elliot and I continued to watch our movie as the next 1 1/2 hours flew by.

7:05 p.m. - I was leaning over the birthing ball or standing and swaying during contractions and by this time I wasn't quite able to make it through the contraction without a little bit of discomfort. I decided that I should stop watching the movie and listen to one of my relaxation scripts from Hypnobabies.

Elliot gathered several pillows at my request because I didn't want to lean over the ball anymore and leaning over the couch cushions was too low. We piled up the pillows on the couch and I hugged them through a few contractions as I rocked my hips from side to side. The contractions were still very manageable and I was in my zone listening to my script.

7:20 p.m. - Alison, Althea, and Kat returned from dinner and found me in my pile of pillows. Two seconds after they returned, I thought I had an anxiety attack (similar to what happened to me in the hospital 2 years ago every time someone came into my hospital room and flipped on the light and started talking in their outside voices) because the contractions suddenly got VERY intense.

I tried to stand for a position change, but ended up either in the pillows or just on my hands and knees rocking back and forth. Though I don't think I was having back labor (because The Boy was in the right position), it felt so good to have Elliot rub my back or just be touching me during the contractions.

8:00ish p.m. - Suddenly, I needed the barf bucket. Elliot retrieved that for me and I, in the way that only I can do, scream barfed a little spittle into the bucket. You'd think that by that sound, the baby would be coming up the other way, but no . . . just a little spittle.

Alison, Althea, and Kat jumped into action while I continued to sway on my hands and knees. I also became very VOCAL during this time, using my "aahh" to get through the contraction. I do need to clarify though that at the beginning of vocalizing I can indeed keep my "aahh" in lowercase letters. However, they didn't stay lowercase for much longer as the pressure got more intense. I even sang some of my "AAHH"'s out. Apparently throwing up is a sign that the end is near, which is why the girls started getting the pool set up.

We were going to set up the pool in the living room and fill it from a hose hooked to the shower. However, we bought the wrong adapter for the shower to the hose and couldn't use it. Our only other option besides somehow finding buckets, was to set up in the kitchen and use the faucet (thank goodness we have a detachable faucet hose).

Elliot was scrambling about during this time trying to help the girls as well and I didn't like that at all. I wanted him by me with his hands on me somewhere. He did ask me right in the middle of a contraction if it was alright to set up in the kitchen and I think he was expecting an answer or something because he explained it several times with no response from me. Uh, busy.

I can understand why the Hypnobabies book said several times that if you want to change positions, do so immediately after the pressure wave is over. My pressure waves were very close together, so I was trying to rest a little before I moved. It just kept me stuck in the same position. That's alright though, it was more comfortable that way. Kat did most of the monitoring of The Boy's heart tones and my blood pressure and pulse throughout the birthing time and was in the middle of doing my blood pressure when I had to stop her and lean over again during a pressure wave. After that one, I decided that it was time to go change so I could get into the pool that they were trying to fill as fast as they could with a tiny stream of kitchen faucet water.

9:00 p.m. - Elliot helped me walk back to my bedroom to change, having a few more contractions in the meantime. I tried to get back up to the kitchen before the next one hit and made it into the pool just in time. WOW. So much better. Not that it totally relieved the pressure, but there was definitely a difference getting into the water. The water was very, very warm (the way I like it) and I could immediately feel other parts of my body relaxing. Why would anybody NOT labor in water?

(I'm saying "AAHH" in this picture)

I continued to be very vocal and even added "PEACE" and "OPEN" to my list of cues. You'll have to ask Elliot exactly how they sounded . . . not very peaceful, more like a ghost or some other monster with a bass voice. In any way, they made me feel better and helped so that I was breathing out and not tensing and holding my breath. I could tell I was relaxed because my arms would be floating in the pool instead of gripping the sides like I wanted to at first. Water is awesome.

Elliot sat on a stool right behind me (outside of the pool) and I leaned up against him there. He wiped my sweaty brow and pushed my hair out of the way and whispered very reassuring things in my ear. He told me how great I was doing and how close I was to holding my baby in my arms. And during my vocal times, he laughed a little bit. Elliot was instructed NOT to ask me "did that one hurt?" He honored my wishes and therefore was allowed to stay.

(I'm pushing . . . I love that my arms are floating and I'm totally in my zone with the seahorse and turtle whispering encouraging cues in my ears)

After a little while and several very close together and rather intense pressure waves and a little more scream barf spittle, I decided I needed to pee. I didn't want to get out of the pool, but I also didn't want to pee in the water. Alison and Elliot bent down to help me out, but I had to sit back again to get through another pressure wave. During that wave, Elliot and Alison were whispering to each other as Elliot asked her about a timeframe. Not that he had other things to do, but he was just wondering. She told him that my contractions were VERY close together and lasting for a VERY long time and she thought that it was all very close.

10:05 p.m. - Alison and Elliot returned to me and both held out their arms to brace me getting out of the water when all of the sudden my stomach went up to a point and I said, "I'M PUSHING!" It was the craziest thing. There was absolutely nothing I could do to stop myself from pushing. My body was just pushing. It was such an amazing feeling. I had to focus myself again because I was kind of shocked that I was already pushing. I didn't know what time it was, but I was sure I still had several hours left. I remember laughing a little bit (not a lot) and saying, "He's really going to come out!"

I had read about Mother-Guided Pushing and was excited not to be told when I could and could not push. I love my body. It knew exactly what to do. I'd also read about pushing between contractions and thought I might want to do that, but in the middle of it, I decided to rest for the very few seconds I had between them. The contractions were powerful enough to get him out.

(you get this picture instead of the absolutely awesome picture Elliot got of The Boy's head coming out . . . you're welcome)

Alison and Althea were on the business end, Kat took Elliot's place behind me mopping my brow, and Elliot grabbed the camera as I'd instructed since I knew no one had taken any pictures yet. I don't remember what I said, but I was trying to talk The Boy out of me. I was already so proud of him for making his way down there and I just couldn't wait to see him anymore! There were a couple of pushes that I was almost sure he was just going to pop out, but had to go through another one. I was totally fine with it though, I knew he was close.

I'd heard about women being concerned about having to push the head out and then having to go through the struggle of pushing the shoulders out too, but I was prepared. Both Alison and Elliot said that The Boy had hair when he started crowning and they both kept saying (I guess they only said it once) that just one more push would get his head out because in 2 pushes I felt him fly out!

10:26 p.m. - My beautiful baby was born! His umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck twice, so Alison pulled his face out of the water, gently unwrapped the cord, and I reached down to pull my gorgeous son onto my chest. He coughed and started crying immediately when his head was above water.

He was out and, oh my goodness, he was absolutely beautiful! He looked at me immediately and I just got to hold him and love him and thank him for coming out. He did such a great job, and quite frankly, so did I. I didn't even feel tired as I sat there holding my baby boy. He looked so small, much smaller than I'd expected, but he was perfection! It was one of those times that not a thing in the world could wipe the smile off my face! Oh I loved him!

Althea immediately put a towel over us and a little hat on him. Kat monitored him for a little bit (all while he's still in my arms), and Alison somehow took care of whatever was going on down there (I wasn't paying attention anymore) and apparently did his Apgar . . . perfect 10.

Alison also told us to check to see if he was really a boy because no one looked before we covered him up. Elliot came back behind me to meet his son (yes, definitely a boy) and thankfully, someone else picked up the camera to capture our first moments together.

You thought I'd see him and know his name. Well, you were wrong.

10:40 p.m. - Alison noticed that the umbilical cord had finally stopped pulsing and I started to have some more contractions, getting ready to deliver the placenta. I handed The Boy over to Elliot and the girls helped me out of the pool so I could deliver the placenta. It's much easier to push that out than a baby. Just saying.

Althea and Kat helped me back to the shower and I did that as fast as I could so I could see my baby again. They helped me dress and get into bed. Elliot and The Boy crawled into bed next to me. Alison, Althea, and Kat went out into the living room to do paperwork and just left us alone. I love that. Part of me really wished that Stella was there with us so we could be our complete family, but another part of me was so happy to have that time with just us and The Boy.

The Boy. We couldn't keep calling him that, although it did sound strong and fitting for him. Elliot didn't want to make any announcement calls until he had a name. The week before he was born, I almost gave in to McAllister, but I was sort of sad when I'd think about it. I really didn't know what we were going to do. As we discussed McAllister and possible middle names, we also decided a definite no on the first name Finn, Finley, Finnegan, and Phineas (although I still like them, this Boy wasn't any of those names). So I came back to Malcolm. I think Elliot was sad about giving up McAllister, but as soon as he called him Malcolm, I knew it was a keeper. So The Boy became Malcolm McCoy. Malcolm because we like it and McCoy was the last name of Elliot's mission president (not family, but still very meaningful to both of us).

So our little MALCOLM MCCOY DIBBLE finally joined our little family at 10:26 p.m. on Monday, August 29, 2011 and we are so happy.

Malcolm's Birth Story - Part I

For those of you who want the short version, here it is: Malcolm was born. In water. At home. And he is absolutely perfect.

But for those of you who want the little details, this is for you (but mostly for me because I like details). I'm afraid that reading this might actually take longer than Malcolm's birth did, but oh well, here we go . . .

Monday, August 29, 2011 - I was now 42 weeks and 1 day pregnant. According to The Boy's ultrasound last Thursday and my appointment with my midwife Alison Haasch, we were both completely healthy and if we wanted, we could continue incubating until the next week. I was the only one on the face of this earth that wasn't worried about anything. Elliot had given me a blessing the day before my "due date" (due date=August 14) which just made me more comfortable and reassured me that I was making the right decisions and I knew that they were mine to make.

I was comforted this specific morning by a scripture I read in 1 Corinthians 2:5. So many people were concerned that I was 2 weeks overdue and continually told me (and my husband) that I was making the wrong decisions. I understood the concern, but I trusted the Spirit more.

In talking to Elliot this morning and planning our week, we talked about Alison possibly breaking my water to start labor. She had already stripped my membranes the week before without any changes, but I knew that breaking my water was a definite labor starter.

9:00 a.m. - I made an appointment with my friend's aunt who is a reflexologist. She was kind enough to come to my home, knowing that if I happened to go into labor, that I'd want to be at home. I'm fairly certain that I fell asleep and who knows what kind of weird sleeping noises I make. It wouldn't be the end of the weird noises of the day. She said that she has pretty good results with women and putting them into labor and was excited either way just to have my feet rubbed.

I had promised a loving and concerned family member at the beginning of my mission for a natural birth that I would include my husband in my decisions. I knew that besides getting increasingly impatient with my lack of labor, people felt it necessary to share birth horror stories with Elliot. This naturally made him worry. In the end, he trusted my decisions, which I appreciate. However, I knew that with his 2 extra weeks of incubation, by this time our baby would be healthy and would be on his way soon anyway.

Alison was in constant contact with me through our regular appointments and texts. Seriously, I never got any texts from my OB. One more reason to have a midwife. Alison texted me to see how I was feeling that morning. I told her about the reflexology and how my pressure waves hadn't increased or decreased at all, but that I got a little nap. I told her that Elliot and I had discussed maybe breaking my water and instantly she responded immediately with, "OK, what time do you want me to come over?" Apparently she was ready to help me birth my baby as well. So we scheduled to break my water around 2:00 p.m. and I was instructed to take a nap, eat a good lunch, and drink a lot of water.

1:30 p.m. - Elliot came home and we took a little nap together and made sure arrangements for Stella were made with Grandma Dibble after school. I had done everything else I was instructed to do, so I went over the house one more time to make sure everything was totally clean and birthing supplies available for my birthing team before they came. Alison had an appointment in Gilbert that ran late and she informed us that she'd be to our house by 4:00.

3:15 p.m. - I got a call from Stella who was on the verge of tears. She always sounds so much younger when I'm talking to her on the phone. Grandma told her that I was going to have the baby and she may have gotten a little nervous (or dramatic as is natural for her). She said, "Mom, remember how you told me that we can have tears that are happy tears? Well, I think that's what I'm going to do now."

We decided that since Alison wasn't there yet, that we wanted Stella to come back home to see us and see that everything was as it should be before she went to Grandma's for the night. We cuddled for a little bit and tried to reassure her that next time she came home, she could hold her brother!

I think she was excited about the whole thing, but got nervous again when we walked her out to the car as Alison arrived. Alison gave her a hug and also tried to reassure her, but Stella still gave me at least 3 more hugs and kisses before Grandma drove away with our big girl.

At the beginning of our plan for a home birth, I had discussed with Stella what we were going to do and she even watched some documentaries with me and some home births online. She was fascinated and so excited that we didn't have to go to the hospital. Elliot and I had contemplated allowing Stella to be present during the birth, but we decided that I needed Elliot's full attention and with Stella there, I wouldn't get it. Also, it turns out that I'm sure she would have been more than a little traumatized by the noises I'd be making later that evening.

3:45 p.m. - Alison and her assistants Althea and Kat arrived and brought in their luggage full of birthing supplies. I changed my clothes and finished my preparations for one of the most amazing nights of my life.

(stay tuned for Part II of Malcolm's Birth Story . . . or don't stay tuned if pictures of me in labor might make you uncomfortable . . . no worries, they're blog appropriate . . . I didn't get all Ricki Lake on anybody)

Malcolm is 1 Month Old!

I can't believe my baby is already 1 month old. Hey, remember when you were all freaking out for 2 weeks that he wasn't born yet? That sure didn't go as fast as these past 5 weeks!

Here are some things I don't want to forget about Mr. Malcolm's first month:

-Malcolm always looks concerned.
-Malcolm looks like he's ready for his Senior pictures because he is always in a great arm shelf pose.
-Malcolm thinks we're trying to kill him every time we change his diaper. FYI-we're not.
-Malcolm used to like his carseat, but now it seems like every time we have carpool, it's during a time that I should be feeding him and he pretty much hates the world and his carseat.
-Malcolm was not a fan of his first few baths, but once he got to be in the bathtub, he acted like he was at a day spa.
-Malcolm sweats profusely. Seriously, the pad on his carseat is soaked every time I take him out and his mullet is swept into a sweet flip.
-Malcolm doesn't like the swing.
-Malcolm is a binki baby.
-Malcolm pleased his father greatly when Mommy was unable to console the dear boy one late evening, but fell asleep quickly as soon as Daddy took over.
-Malcolm likes to sleep on his tummy.
-Malcolm is a great sleeper and slept from 12-5 when he was a week old.
-Malcolm's favorite hold is in a cuddle on your chest.
-When Malcolm is hungry, there better be a boob around.
-Malcolm is forced to have advanced neck muscles because his sister thinks he's a doll.
-Malcolm has a pouty lip when he cries just like Stella did.
-Malcolm crapped so much after I dropped all of the kids back home from the carpool that it dripped all the way through the carseat and onto the carpet by the time I got him out of the seat. To be fair, he didn't know that I just cleaned the carpets.
-Malcolm is a kicker. But I already knew that.
-Malcolm is 10 pounds!
-Malcolm knows his Mommy's voice and this pleases me greatly.
-Malcolm has a fantastic open-mouthed smile, but he is stingy with it. He'll usually only smile after I've fed him in the morning and then again, only for a minute. He doesn't think we're as hilarious as we think he is.
-Sleeping on his tummy, Malcolm kicks his way up to the top of the bassinet and has rubbed all of the hair off of the front of his head in the 20 seconds it takes me to go get him.
-Malcolm is learning to sleep through Stella's efforts to wake him up whenever she's home.
-Malcolm has outgrown his newborn clothes and we have finishing up the newborn diapers and are on to size 1.
-Malcolm's talons grow very fast. He's like Wolverine. I've already cut them 3 times. He likes to scratch the crap out of my chest.
-Malcolm is a champ when it comes to his shots. He cries for 3 seconds to let everyone know that it hurt, and then he's fine.
-We haven't captured it on video yet, but our favorite thing that Malcolm does is sneeze. Not just any sneeze, but he does about 2 real sneezes and then winds up to do another only to decide not to let it out and just do a little "ah-ww" at the end. It's seriously the cutest thing we've seen this year.

Malcolm is so fantastic. He has no idea how hilarious he is! Stella can't stop laughing at him which boggles us because he's usually asleep. Stella also thinks that Malcolm's uncontrollable arm waving is the funniest thing she's ever seen. She loves her brother and we love him too!