Doubles

AKA...Aaron. Grandpa EIO affectionately refers to Aaron as "Double A"...we've shortened this to "Doubles". This is Doubles "feeding Baby Nolan".

Whatever Collin does Aaron is sure to follow...or at least give it a try. He is remarkable at keeping pace. Collin is usually a very patient older brother, but recently, he's drawn some lines and reserved some "special" toys that are off limits to Aaron...to be enjoyed during quiet time.

Doubles is 2. What more do I have so say? My sweet, sweet, will do anything for Momma boy is now "Mr. Me Do It." Period.

I have a small problem on my hands. Aaron is now enamored with the idea of his big boy pants. So much so that today at preschool, when we stopped to take a potty break before picking up Collin, a tantrum like I've NEVER experienced ensued. Unfortunately, Mommy forgot to pack the Incredible Hulk Pull-Ups in the diaper bag (no...I wasn't so crazy as to leave the house with the Elmo big boys for the trip to preschool, CUB Foods run and trip to the library, but I had resolved myself to offering bathrooms in those various public establishments to keep with the potty routine). Hulk Pull-Ups are an insult to my environmental sensitivities...but a near necessity for the schedule we try to keep. The poor thing kept saying "no diaper...Aaron a big boy." Needless to say, he was wearing FuzziBunz by the time we left the bathroom...and had washed his hands against his will. All of this was too much for his 2-year old spirit to handle...so Mom ended up carrying a flailing Aaron and an infant in a car seat out of preschool. Thank goodness Collin was cooperating.

I need to remember to appreciate this independence. And...maybe we'll work on potty training at the farm...where I'll have another set of hands to help me out!

FYI...I've now taken multitasking to a whole new level. I was trying to pump and blog at the same time...and I just ran a 10 ounce bottle of milk all over my lap. Milk is abundant again, which is a small blessing in itself. Today I was 20 ounces ahead of demand. It's freakish really. I looked into breastmilk donation with Aaron (yes, I know...I'll try to donate nearly everything). Adam made the mistake of calling me a milk cow recently...not good...not good at all for the postpartum farm girl.

Funny enough, I think I've figured out that cows milk, maybe not eggs, is the problem with my milk. I'm officially cutting back. Nolan was much happier today...since we've been out of skim milk at our house for at least 2 days. I didn't want to believe this could be the problem; however, it's a small price to pay for a happy baby.