Six weeks

I won’t apologize for not posting because, well, it would just be silly. I’ve had my hands full but all in the best of ways. I have the most endearing excuse in the form of my Ferris boy - who is now an amazing six weeks old as of last Saturday.

There have been many things that have happened in the last six weeks and I will not bore you with the incredible multitude of said things. Rest assured, the end of our summer has not been lazy nor laid back. Amidst all of the happenings however, we’ve managed to welcome this blonde babe into our fold with hardly a beat skipped. 

While at first Moxie was more apt to treat him as her personal doll, she has grown to show her love in gentler and more affectionate (and appropriate) avenues such as hugs, kisses, and hair pats rather than pulls, hits, and head butts. Scout has settled into the role of official song singer quite well. She lovingly reassures him when he cries, “it’s okay baby Ferris, it’s okay,” and sings “Jesus loves me” to him with an added “cutie, cutie” at the end for good measure. I love watching her care for him, simply love it. Cutter is the biggest of big brothers and so he is waiting until Ferris can play cars with him or baseball, whichever comes first.

I’m still incredulous that they are all mine, as are the grocery store patrons that surround our cart in sheer amazement as we traverse the aisles of Wegmans. 

Yes – all four of them are mine, and no – none of them are twins.