This past weekend was the NICU reunion. I love the NICU reunion. I was so proud of the boys, and so excited to show them off to the doctors and nurses we love so much. I think they were all really floored by Cooper - who was too busy running around to visit with anyone. He sure wasn't the orangey-green kid with the trach, on the ventilator, so swollen he could barely open his eyes, with tubes running everywhere. Nope: the former "king of the NICU" (he was there 6 months, after all) was the spunky little guy running around, laughing, stealing bean bags from the bean bag toss (sorry), eating chicken nuggets, kicking butt and taking names.
Oh and I have been told by several people that the boys made their TV debut on Saturday. Apparently a news crew filmed the boys at the picnic. And we missed it!
In other news, Zach had a rough afternoon today. We were outside playing when I heard him screaming bloody murder. This wasn't the Charlie-stole-my-juice-again scream. This was the oh-my-God-there-are-ants-eating-me scream. I ran over to him, and his legs were black. Covered with ants. I pulled him out of the huge ant hill (those darn ants build fast - I swear that thing wasn't there yesterday) and started wiping his red, welty legs down frantically. He must have been stung 50 times. His feet were the worst - swollen already! So I started to run inside with him while stripping his clothes, while at the same time screaming that Cooper and Charlie come with me and stay away from the anthill. Surprisingly, Cooper followed me. Not surprisingly, Charlie did not. Fortunately, my neighbor heard me shrieking and came and grabbed Charlie before he became dessert for the ants. Thank you Carla!!!
Anyway, after a frantic call to the pediatrician and a dose of Benadryll (which of course I didn't have - thanks again Carla!), Zach was fine. Phew. I'm not big on this kind of excitement. I'll take a poop in the tub any day.