Sunday, December 20, 2009

Tasty Face

I must admit, I am a lazy and disgusting mom. Since the boys have started eating real food, Duke has come on the scene. Ryan loves Duke, and Duke loves Ryan. It's funny to see the special relationship between those two. All of the boys notice Duke. It's hard not to when he is licking peas and carrots off of your hands. Much to the chagrin of my mom, grandma, and I must admit, of myself, I let Duke lick the boys hands and chairs. He does a much better job that I could ever do with a wash cloth or wet wipe, and they laugh and enjoy his amorous attention.
I'm pretty sure that if Duke eats enough to explode and dies this way, he will be the happiest (dead) dog on earth. He can't get enough food, but he and Ryan aren't just lunch time buddies. The smile that Ryan gets when Duke approaches would melt the grinch's heart. Duke is so good and gentle with him. He will walk over to where ever Ryan is playing and just sit there and let Ryan pet/pull on him for an unusual amount of time. Duke even pats him with his paw (three times) just like he does to Dusty.
Yesterday, I must admit that I let the love, adoration, and laziness go a step too far. Duke was hovering around during feeding time (usually he has to stay out of the kitchen when there is eating going on). I thought he and the boys were just too cute together and let him lick the sides of their high chairs and skulk around the table. Grandma and I were enjoying the show when all of a sudden, Duke stuck out his long tongue and licked oatmeal and carrots off of Michael's face. I missed it with the camera, but this is Michael's stunned reaction while Duke beat a hasty retreat out of the kitchen before he lost life and tongue. Even though it grosses me out, I probably will still let him lick the boys hands (always followed by a wet wipe to wash off dog germs) just because they love it so much, but I've got to draw the line at the tasty face.
By the time I got the camera, Duke had already licked James clean and had moved on to green-beaner hands, but I can't bear to do a post with no James news. Lately, my little monkey has been sleeping on his side. When he was in the isolette in the NICU, he always flipped and flopped around, but when he came home, I guess he forgot how to move. Now that he can roll over, he loves to sleep on his side with his arms over his face. Sometimes he gets so tired that he just face plants straight down into the activity mat, playpen, bed, or where ever and falls asleep that way. It's absolutely adorable, but when he loses his pacifier in this position, he can't find it and put it back in his mouth and starts to scream like he's being tortured by the devil himself. This makes for some less than pleasant 3 a.m. trips to the nursery, but since those are generally the only trips to the nursery we make at night, I'm not going to complain. Not only does James love his pacifier, lately, he loves the string that holds it on his clothes. He chews on it pretty much non-stop. Now that we are eating peas, green beans, carrots, oatmeal, and rice cereal, he leaves a little bit of his lunch and dinner along with a generous helping of slobber on his pacifier holder. The thing stinks to high heaven. It took me about a week of trying to figure out why James always stunk before I found the culprit (it earned him the name of the "little stinkmunk"). I am looking for a way to make the one he has smell better, but so far, I haven't had any success. My next move is to soak it in oxyclean and throw it in the wash in hopes of a better outcome. If I'm unsuccessful, I think we're going to have to take drastic action and get a new one (I wonder if it'll taste as good to Mr. James). Even though it's only by a minute, you can identify the oldest child in this trio - Mr. Type A is Baby A.


  1. Angela & Bob, Hope you have a very Merry Christmas with the boys and your families! We miss seeing you at 11:00 and hope maybe you will pay us a surprise visit back to the 11 after the holidays. Love your posts!

  2. Stinkmunk! I love it! Always said that was the best name for a band. Maybe it will be your boys.

    Merry Christmas, dear Newhouses...Newhice? Newhomeses? Pardon my bad joke, please!