Wow, 9 months old...already!?!

Really??? My boys are 9 months old?? My little preemies that spent what felt like an eternity in the NICU?? I mean look at 'em, they think they are old enough to wear flannel and crowd surf! (Matt's contribution to the blog photos, if you didn't know he is obsessed with the 90's grunge movement and nothing makes him happier than flannels being back in):



Well, as you can see, they aren't so preemie in size anymore. We don't have their 9-month well visit to the doctor until tomorrow, but I'll make an educated guess based on their weights from their stay in the hospital...and we can see how close I am!

Josh - 20lb 9oz
Brody - 21lb 14oz

We'll see how close I came tomorrow, but I am guessing that I am not that far off. I'm so happy to have such strong, growing boys!

Speaking of which, my boys are now in full effect, 12 month clothing. Um, what happened to the 9-month clothing?? They kinda skipped over it, passing Go and collecting their 200 dollars. And the Gerber clothing?? Fuggetaboutit, they are in 18 month sleepers! They can't even fit into any of the uber cute "My First Christmas" clothing because they are too damn big. I guess the baby clothing companies have decided amongst themselves that if they are fitting in 12 month clothing, math predicts that they have indeed already had a "First Christmas" and are not in need of a "Baby's Second Christmas" getup. But to me that is just weight-ist, because although I know my boys are big guys, they are not by any means the most ginormous children out there and what about those other poor huge babies that can't fit into any of the Christmas clothing available?? It's a sad state of affairs, I'll tell ya!

Anyway, let me tell you what is up with my babies (sigh, more like little boys) - they are both sitting up on their own and have been for about a month or so. Of course, they topple over from time to time when there is a particularly fascinating toy (or dog) out of their reach. Their vocabulary has expanded and includes dada, baba, and gaga.....but, sadly no mama. I mean short of my life mimicking that famous scene in "Being John Malkovich" with mama being the only phrase we speak, I have no clue how to get them to say mama! I know, I know, someday I will rue the day that they can say my name and will wish that they could forgot it. But in all honesty, all I want for Christmas is my boys to call me mama (not that you have to take anything back for me, I'll use all the other gifts to numb my pain).

What else...they are obsessed with balls, which makes us obsessed with finding the lost ones throughout the house. Considering some of the toys they are playing with are meant to be Christmas gifts, it's kinda pathetic that we have already lost some balls prior to December 25th (and no family Christmas toys were included in this ball tragedy, I swear!).

Oh and the boys have now graduated to the big boy tub!! Here are some photos of the big event:







And finally (drumroll, please!)......THEY ARE HOLDING THEIR OWN BOTTLES!! Oh, happy day! But that is such news that it merits its own post, so stay tuned :)