Well...orientation has been more intense than predicted. I thought I wouldn't drop off the face of the earth just yet, but next thing you know we've done so many activities that I'm one sandwich short of an orientation picnic. Neither Aaron nor I can keep track of what day it is and Ollie's taken to getting up at 5am and we haven't had access to the kitchen in three days or the shower in a week, as I required tile work to start residency.
You know what is surprisingly convenient? Having all the toiletries in the kitchen.
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Ollie has always been an eater. He has never willingly stopped nursing, he inspires Dylan to try new things, and I'm pretty sure he can detach his jaw when needed to fit more food in. Give him a banana and it's like a spaceship docking, with one slow relentless path into his face. We were at a restaurant recently, with a long wait because they had dropped our dinner on the floor and started over without mentioning it, so we fed Ollie a lemon slice to entertain ourselves because: ha! He made an amusingly puckered face, shrugged, then ate the rest of it.
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I have had the worst time finding Dylan underwear in the correct size. It was mystifying to me (hi! I'm your new doctor). The options are: 4-5T, 4, or 6. The 4-5T were too small, and the 6 was way too big. Turns out, it's 4. Sounds so simple, when I say it there. It's just...she's a size 5! Why would I think to try a 4? I was wrong though, I know that now.
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Ollie: is a HAM. He is hilarious, with an on-purpose awesome silly sense of humor at 19 months. We're so proud, except for the part where he PRETENDS to put all sorts of random stuff in his mouth just to mess with us.
He also says EEEEEEEEEEE ("cheese") whenever I get my phone out, and now says EEEEEEEEEEEEEE whenever he wants: cheese.
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These kids! just get an endless kick out of each other. They are really opposites in a lot of ways and it works for them.
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Dylan has ALWAYS been very clear when she is going through a developmental spurt, much more than Ollie usually is. She's clingy, klutzy, and generally high maintenance, then: she's not. It's harder as she gets older because she can verbalize her irritation in a much more excruciating manner. Anyway, the point is: now she can swim like a fish. It was sort of weird.
I know kids are mostly concrete thinkers at this age, but she can't wait to not be. She's always telling me she feels like she might not really exist and asked the other day if maybe we were just a dream (after she said something about rowing? a boat?)(not really).
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Starting in the hospital Friday...
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