I Bet He Gives Great Helmet

...If you can name that quote, I might just pay you a million dollars. Maybe.

(FYI- I bastardized it a little)

So, Finn has a head shape issue. As in, it's weird and asymmetric. It's been like that since he was about 6 weeks old and our pediatrician kept saying, "Oh, It's looking better!" every time we went in. But as much as I like her, I lost any trust in her memory when she said, "Oh now I can finally tell them apart!"  Um.... They've never looked alike. Ever.

Behold:

We look totally different! Silly Doctor...

So, after much doctor harassage (Yes, I just made up that word. Because I'm a word wizard), we finally got a referral to a helmet doctor. Turns out Finn's head asymmetry is off by a centimeter. To provide some perspective- acute cases have asymmetry of 2 to 2.5 centimeters. So, while it's totally visible, Finn's head issues fall into the mild to moderate range.  Here's a picture that kind of shows it:

I may be cute, but my head is jacked

So, off we went to the doctor to be fitted for a helmet....

 I sure hope this guy isn't a hack...

Getting nervous & saying a little prayer

"Dear Baby Jesus, Let this doctor not be a hack."

The Not-A-Hack Helmet Doctor & Finn making friends
(He got the fiberglass bandage over Finn's eyes on accident- which is kind of hackish)

 This had better be worth it...

I may have Vaseline in my hair but I'm wicked awesome.

Overall, the process was pretty quick & dirty. Finn was a rockstar. ROCKSTAR!

He didn't cry at all. I think the whole thing was harder on me. I was jonesing for a cocktail by the time the pantyhose went on his head but I held it together okay. Go Me!

For moms looking at helmets for their plagiocephaly (flat head) babies- Be prepared for the following:

* They put a stocking on your baby so they look bank robbery-ready. Then they wrap their head in a fiberglass bandage which hardens in about 5 minutes. They say 4 out of 5 babies scream like they're being murdered so I say try to achieve a zen-like state if you can. Just in case- make arrangements for heavy drinking, retail therapy, or lying in the fetal position immediately following. 

But rest assured, this process goes by SO FAST! I had just enough time to take a few pictures (because...hello? blog) and then we were done.

Our helmet comes in 2 weeks. And then we'll let the reshaping begin!

Let The Fighting Begin

Cassidy has a toy

 ...and Finn spots it

Look at my kick-ass toy!

Uh oh. 2 Babies. 1 Toy.

2 Babies + 1 Toy =

Meltdown.

And so it begins....

Addendum: Cassidy now grabs any and all toys that Finn has out of his hands. 

Yep. My little girl is a little bit of a b-hole.
(And yes, that's me laughing at her. I'm kind of a b-hole too)

7 Months...and then some

So, while I've been a remiss blogger this month, I failed to document a few baby milestones. Behold, baby milestones:

 7 Months old and Awesome

Remember these days?

Crazy, huh?

And...we've been busy grabbing everything we see...including cameras

And sitting...

There's been a lot of sitting

And a lot of falling

And, scariest of all...

Some almost crawling

Heaven save us all

Complaints

So a friend (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) recently told me I talk too much on my blog. He just wants pictures of the baybeez.

For realz? Because as far as I'm concerned, my diatribes are delightful. They provide you with undesirable nuggets about my life that might keep you up at night, motivate you to become a better person, or unfriend me on facebook. Your choice.

So in a nod to my friend, here are some pictures of my baybeez. AREN'T THEY PRECIOUS???!!! Don't try to steal them. Baby stealing is wrong.

In the grand tradition of her parents, Cassidy puts her foot in her mouth.

In the grand tradition of his parents, Finn is giving you the finger ;)
 

To my friend (and the internetz), consider this a little photographic snack.  

Don't have a conniption. There's more to come. Simmer....

My Forbidden Affair

So, stay with me here...

I have 3 wardrobes taking up residence in my closet.

I have my "real" wardrobe. You know, those cute clothes. The ones you wear out to lunch with friends, date nights with the husband, and white house dinners you crash like a trashy DC Housewife. I've got high heels, sassy tops, and (ahem) lacy unspeakables (sorry Dad).

Then I've got my fatty wardrobe. The one I break out when it's either:
a) Wear these fatty mcfattems pants   or...
b) Call into work Fat    or....
c) :::crickets::::

The fatty wardrobe tries like Hell to be like the cute wardrobe. My fatty wardrobe is a lot like me in middle school. Tragic. Wannabe. Never been kissed. Shrouded in shame.

And then our recent addition- The Maternity Wardrobe. What to say? It's big and comfortable and it makes me look like I'm about to shoplift a watermelon from your local grocer.  With one

notable

exception

My maternity jeans.

It's true. They are the best-fitting clothing item I have in my wardrobe. And the fact I don't have to zip up or down to go to the bathroom is an added bonus! I love these jeans so damn much that I get all brokebacky about them. I know it's a forbidden love affair I'm having but I'm all, "I wish I knew how to quit you!"

and then I can't resist them. Because all my other clothes make me look like a total fat ass. Or make me feel like I'm going to Incredible Hulk explode out of them.

So until Jillian Michaels and Weight Watchers make good on their promises, I'm going to continue my forbidden love affair with my stretchy, non-zippery, pregnormous denims.