peas in a pod

Caleb and Porter

Caleb is my brown eyed boy, Porter is my blue eyed boy.
Caleb leads and Porter follows.
Porter eats the hot dog, Caleb eats the bun.
Caleb is easy going, Porter falls apart without advance notice.
Caleb loves blue, Porter loves brown.
Porter loves being on his own, Caleb needs people. Lots of people.
Caleb is daring, Porter couldn't be more cautious.
Porter eats anything but chocolate, Caleb won't eat a thing besides chocolate.

But

They both love legos.

They both love books.

They both love potty humor.

They both love baths.

They both superheros.

They both love mario brothers.

They both love to wrestle.

They love each other

 and they adore their baby brother.

When I watch the two of them together, I think Luke is a blessed boy to have these amazing brothers.

They will be his protectors.

His teachers.

His audience.

His example.

His entertainment.

The babies of the family always have it so good.

This is a house

Sometimes, when Luke is being particularly adorable, the stars align. I actually know the location of my camera.

I take pictures.

It doesn't matter what he is wearing, cause he has this face:

See what I mean?

But our magic doesn't last for long. Because this is a full house. 

A house with other paparazzi, stealing away his attention:

A house with big, bed headed brothers who are sure every picture is enhanced with their face gracing it:

A house of baby blowouts that require costume changes. We certainly don't take pictures of that sort of thing.

But most of all, this is a house full of people who like to slightly humiliate one another for our own amusement:

Yes, you see what I mean.

from his eyes

Bath time for Luke has been a fun family event this summer. Everyone wants in on it somehow. I have to divide up the body parts to wash ( don't worry, I handle the unmentionables).

Everyone squeezes in by the sink and presses their faces as close as they can get to his. I can only imagine what it must look like to him. Perhaps that's why he gives us looks like this:

["These people are all sorts of crazy"]

Eventually, all our cooing and gibberish gets to him and he can't stay weirded out by us for long:

["Maybe they aren't so bad after all"]

And then in the end he is all in:

["I'm going to have so much fun laughing at these people all my life"]

Bath time.

An adventure in Crazyland.

I think I had a baby...

I am just not sure. Because babies are tiny. Newborns are these sweet little things.
I didn't have one of those.
I had a baby giant. A baby Hagrid, if you will.


Luke James tipped the scales at 10 pounds 14 ounces (22 inches long).
For those of you people who are mathematically challenged, that is two teeny ounce shy of eleven pounds. ELEVEN.
I am a firm believer that babies should not be born in a double digit range.
Those of you who have pushed a person out of your body know what I am saying. You feel me. You are shaking your head with a profoundly sympathetic look on that face of yours as you read this aren't you?
Because, come on... ELEVEN? Really?
Furthermore, if you are unfortunate enough to push a baby giant out of you, then I believe body numbing drugs should be involved. I also suggest you receive these drugs in time for them to actually take effect.

I had a baby giant with ineffective drugs.... and I am here to tell the tale.

I think I need a t-shirt with that statement.

Or one that says: Giving Birth; #1 on the Things I Won't Ever Do Again! list.

Cause I won't. For like, ever.

Even if he is the sweetest baby giant in these here united states.

Tomorrow? We move on from giant babies and head to giant families.

Stay Tuned...