Number two's number two, and number one's number one (tricycle)

I'm not one of those dads who likes to brag that "I've never changed a diaper."  As I've written before, I find there to be something of a communion -- and I mean that quite seriously-- when I change one of Alex's, and I've never tried to shunt off the poopy diapers to Jane.  So how is it possible that today was the first time I changed one of Ella-Anne's poopy diapers?  Almost a full month with her, and this was the first one?

Just call me "Mr. Lucky."

But my luck ran out today.  Just as Jane and Alex were about to swing by the house to pick the two of us up for a lunch out, I detected the "formulaic" scent of an infant poop.  So I got her onto the changing table, opened up the envelope, and announced, "And the Oscar goes to . . . ."

As it turned out, my luck wasn't the only thing that ran out today.  A whole lot of poop also ran out.  Out the top of the back of the diaper, and onto the back of the inside of her cute little outfit.  Apparently, Ella-Anne had saved up a really good one -- a wardrobe-changing one -- for Daddy's first poopy diaper change.

I had forgotten what sorts of poop infants who eat only formula have.  They're not human.  They're some sort of foreign green alien substance.  Soylent Green, I think I'll call it. 

It was a big day for Alex, too.  (No, not in the poop department.)  This morning, she and I went out to Toys 'R' Us and purchased her first tricycle.  A pink Disney Princess tricycle.  With a pink Disney Princess bicycle helmet.  Though we almost had a meltdown at the checkout when I wouldn't allow her to add a Tinker Bell umbrella to our purchase, we survived that and made it home.  Well, Alex had been waiting all of her life for a tricycle; she just didn't know it until today.  She rode that sucker up and down our driveway in the morning, and again in the afternoon when we returned from lunch.  She was so tired that when it was bedtime, she came into my home office, threw her arms around my neck, and said, "Thank you for the tricycle, Daddy."

I said, "You're welcome.  I love you, little bug."  And Alex gave her standard response:  "To the moon and back."  (In case you don't know the origin of that, it's here.)  Se went to bed without any audible fuss, and at 8:35, she is out like a light.

Finally, speaking of "out like a light," Ella-Anne has been a champion sleeper the last two nights.  Thursday night -- down at 9 p.m., and up for the first time at 5 a.m.  That's eight straight hours if you're scoring at home.  (Or even if you're alone.)  Last night -- down at 10:20 p.m. and not up until after 7 a.m.  And that's over eight and a half hours.  At nine weeks old.

Say it with me.  "w-w-w-dot-Miracle Blanket-dot-com."  Order it here.  We do not get kickbacks, but we should.