Happy Father's Day 2007

Sorry it has been so long between posts. Allan and Griffith have been very busy getting ready for the holiday and have really kept me jumping. And all the effort has apparently worn them out, too. They are both sound asleep right now and have been for almost two hours. The little devils NEVER EVER go to sleep at the same time for me, but, for Dad, no problem.

The guys did very well -- Dad liked the shorts that they picked out for him. And he really liked the bright gift bag with the tropical animals on it. (Mom believes in recycling. In this case, recycling one of the bags from the boys' birthday.) And the case for his new business cards was a real hit, too. (That was Allan's idea. He's always thinking, that one.)

The boys are so tired because they have been swimming today. Angie sent them a very cool pool with a sun shade on it and we tried it out for the very first time today. And, also for the first time, we got to wear the genuine swimming trunks that Shannon got for us. As the saying goes, they couldn't have had more fun if they were twins. Griffith splashed and splashed and splashed. Then he squealed and splashed some more. He got so much water in his face from splashing that he gagged himself. Twice. Allan was, naturally, a little more skeptical of the whole proceeding, in part due to the fact that Griffith was throwing water left, right and center. He soon got in to the spirit of things though and was doing his part to empty the pool as well. We had a hard time getting him to sit up and thought that maybe the water was a little too deep for him to be able to get his balance. But, as W would say, we misunderestimated him. We kept trying to sit the little guy up and help him stay put. Every time we let go, he'd flop back. Turns out, as we watched, that he was flopping backward so that he could lay on the side of the pool (which was cushioned and comfortable) with his legs out (thereby avoiding the worst of the splashing created by his lunatic brother) and yet still be within kicking distance of Griffith (otherwise known as "the trifecta.") He may be small, he may be on oxygen, but, ounce for ounce, he is every bit as much trouble as his brother. Probably more. You can look at Griffith and know exactly what he is going to do - knock you down, take your toy, crawl over top of you. He's an open book. Think Patton. Allan, on the other hand, is a strategist. Like Machiavelli.

Two of Allan ophthamologists are moving (and taking one of his girlfriends with them.) So Friday we met our new one who seems very nice. When they took his cataract out, his iris ended up being cattywumpas (I'm pretty sure that you can find that term on webmd.com). Plus, he has some scar tissue behind the iris that is keeping it from opening and closing like it should (none of this was unexpected). Anyway, we are going to try to have the pupil stretched and recentered and have some of the scar tissue removed so that his eye functions more like it should. It should just be an out-patient procedure. They aren't going to try to put a lens in at this time. The contact works just as well and he would just outgrow one that the put in any way. We are "on the schedule" for July 17th for that.

What else has been going on? Miss Julie (the PT) came on Thursday. What with one thing and another, she hadn't been here for 3 weeks. She was very impressed with Big Al's progress. She brought a therapy ball (just like you use to do sit-ups at the gym). They played on it quite a bit -- sitting on it and rolling and learning how to regain balance when every thing shifts underneath you. He did great and was really lifting up his head and looking around. He did much more than she thought he would . In fact, he did more on it than Griffith did. For all the Griff is a bit of a monster, he is pretty suspicious of new things. Allan is far more willing to do things than Griffith is. Anyway, we now have an enormous therapy ball of our own and Dad and Allan have had a big time with it, as you will see. Allan managed to blow another peg so Dad got to play doctor this week and put a new one in. We are becoming old hands at it. Allan doesn't like it much (nor do we) but it is just par for the course, apparently.

And what else? Well, Griffith has learned to say "up" (sometimes it is just "p") and lift his hands up. He is also now saying "buh-buh" to refer to his brother (as distinguished from "bah-bah" which is bottle and "ba" which mean "ball." We are heavy on the plosives.) He sticks out his tongue when asked where his tongue is and puts his hands over his ears when the bells of the church next door ring out (the tintinabulation of the bells, bells, bells). When told "no," he now no longer says "ni, ni, ni" but, instead, growls out "Ma!ma!ma!ma!ma!" in a very irritated tone. His father thinks it is hilarious. Glad he thinks so. Griffith also has decided that even if he could go around something, he would prefer to go through it or over it. Wasn't it the Marines who used to have the slogan "we never take the easy way out"? That is Griffith's mantra these days. To his credit, he is very determined. We'll see how that works out for him. So far, just today, we have a bruise on the forehead, a dent on the forehead, and a bloody nose. Table and floor, three, Griffith, zero. Griffith also got to try his first popsicle (cherry) this weekend. Both boys got to try grits (they both puked them right back up).

That's pretty much all we've got at the moment. There will be pictures, but the card reader is at the office so it will have to be some time tomorrow.