Ten points Tuesday

• Beckham has what I call a snaggle tooth coming in on top.  Most babies get their two front teeth  on top after they get their bottom teeth, but my little let's-not-go-with-the-flow baby has decided 2013 is the year of the fang.

• Beckham also done got him some wings.

 

• He also done pooped his pants FIVE times yesterday.  Just putting that out there in case there's an award for most poops or something.

• Kennedy asks no less than 500 questions a day.  478 of them are asked when I'm on the phone.  Today, she asked me where each person who worked at Target sleeps.  The important stuff.

• Kennedy's best boy is moving in October.  I broke the news to her yesterday.  I was not prepared for her reaction.  She made me start crying.  This household is going to be a blubbering mess when we say goodbye to our besties.  For now, we'll soak in every last minute of Chick-Fil-A dates and spelling "words" together.

• How big is Beckham?

So big.

• Back to Kennedy's endless questions.  How does one explain a dingle-berry to a four year old?  Because I started to explain and just like that, my descriptive tongue failed me and I was at a loss on how to explain the existence of the dingle-berry.  "It's like a little piece of poop that doesn't get wiped -- poop that gets stuck -- you know how Miya goes the bathroom and sometimes --.  Oh the questions that arose just from that stutter sentence of mine. 

• Just so you know, I didn't intend for all this poop talk.

• Marley went to live with my brother in California in December.  She returns on Thursday.  It's kind of like a family member who goes off to military boot camp.  Only she won't be returning with discipline or a buzz cut or a welcome-home banner.  Not going to lie, it's been a slice of heaven having Miya as an only fur baby. 

• Kennedy starts school in three weeks.  I'm looking forward to doing her hair again.  And not seeing her in her jammies at 11 a.m.  And an 8 o'clock bedtime.  I'm not looking forward to packing a lunch every day. 

Almost eight months.

Beckham is eight months on Sunday.  That means I haven't blogged in almost eight months.  I've been reminded that I still have a few -- okay, might be more like a couple -- people who click on this link in hopes of seeing something other than Brandon in scrubs and Beckham lying in the NICU with a feeding tube in his nose.  I've been feeling really guilty that if one were to walk into our house they would leave thinking that Kennedy is an only child and still sits in a highchair.  There's still no proof on the walls that Beckham exists.  There's no baby book keeping his stats, just diaper pails reminding me that my baby is now on to solid foods and I've documented none of it. 

Second-child syndrome has hit hard at this household.  BUT, if you follow me on Instagram (you can find and request to follow me under the name mdhokenstad) you'll see a plethora of evidence that Beckham is, in fact, out of the NICU, eating on his own, -- Cheerios seem to be his fave, --  Brandon is out of the scrubs and on his way to becoming a silver fox, and Kennedy is a big four year old with a fierce love for her baby brother. 

I'm hoping to visit this little space of mine a little more often, not just to appease the couple who like to see updates on our lil family, but so I can look back and see all the little things that might not have made it into the baby books.  Which is, like, basically everything since I have yet to buy poor little Boo a baby book.

My (gettin' there) silver fox.