Eli brushed his own teeth yesterday. I’m pretty sure he used an entire tube of toothpaste. Most of it, unfortunately, ended up in the sink and on the counter.
At eight-plus pounds, Slade seems sturdy to Sally and me. But when people see Slade out—which isn’t often, given his susceptibility to illness—they remark on how tiny he is. Our take on tiny is different. Tiny to us is late November, when Slade was three pounds and living in the NICU.
Here’s Slade, this very morning, looking chipper and rested.
And here’s Slade’s dad looking like he needs a nap.
Bad Chemicals 
Slade looks great! I’m not sure what’s holding him?
He looks sturdy to me!
He is indeed a sturdy little guy. Vocal, too. And not a very good sleeper as of late, which explains why the dad, on way too little sleep and with no magic caffeine giving him energy, looks like the undead in that picture.
Either that, or maybe his dad is, in fact, a zombie.
I think Eli is on his way to being an abstract artiste! Slade’s looking like a potential Texas linebacker! (“potential” because sometimes the burnt-orange pansies come out in bloom.)
Daddy needs more caffeine… and I’m sure Mommy needs more sleep!