Good night.

Our little family is settled in on the eve of Thanksgiving. We can't really say that it is our first Thanksgiving together as it was the Tuesday before last year when we found out that we were expecting twins. We can honestly say that none of us knew what we were in for. That's probably a good thing.
We are really excited at the prospect of our first holiday on our own. With Jay's family across the pond and mine ruled out for reasons of distance and quarantine (no large crowds, no sick people, no kids under 15), we are soloing. Allan and I are already ensconced in the master suite. He is sleeping, peaceful as a little lamb. Jay and Griffith are downstairs roasting a turkey breast and making some sort of British "side dish" that seems to be link sausages wrapped in bacon and cooked in the oven. I think he called it some sort of Napoleon something or other and I can only assume that it is meant to be derogatory to the French. Still, I am somewhat baffled by the thought of this as a side dish. Generally speaking side dishes here consist of vegetables or starchs of some sort. Don't get me wrong -- as a Southerner and a country girl, I have a great appreciation for the wonder of pork, but this is taking it to a whole other level. The yeast dough is made for the rolls and I will be mashing potatoes and fixing green beans tomorrow. I think we will be all right. Allan's sweetheart, Jennifer, dropped off a chocolate pie tonight so I may postpone making that pumpkin roll for another day.
The weather held for another day so the boys and I went off on another long walk this afternoon (Flora still disapproving, but resigned). Markus accompanied us for part of the way. We walked for well over an hour and there wasn't a peep from either boy. They both dozed for part of the trip, but spent the majority of the time taking it all in very peacefully.
Allan went to the ophthamologist this morning and she is pleased with how his eye looks. He still isn't tracking well with it, but things are probably still pretty hazy to him out of that eye. We go next week to have him fitted for a contact. He has become an expert at slamming his eye shut and wriggling away when you try to put drops in so I can only imagine that wrestling him to put a teeny, tiny contact in will be at least a two person operation.
Allan's opthalmologist had her five month old daughter at the office and we think she was trying to set the two of them up. Little hussy.
They took the stitches out today and his belly looks good. He still owns the World's Most Perfect Belly Button. The peg doesn't seem to be bothering him at all and it is fairly easy to use (it is kind of like the stopper that goes in one of those plastic beach balls). He seems much happier without the NG tube in his nose and throat. His saturation levels have been excellent since we got home and he has not been retching or spitting up. So far the peg seems like a good idea.
Griffith is just a ball of fun all the time. He cracks himself up. Flora swears that he said "hi" today and I may take that as his first word. Unless he says Mama. We just can't have Dada be the first word. I just won't be able to stand that.
Time for lights out up here. Here's hoping that we have a nice, peaceful start to the long holiday weekend.