In case you haven't noticed, I am suffering from a serious lack of blog fodder lately; so, if you have any questions or things you would like me to blog about, let me know.

I'm 99% sure Harvey's littlest toe is broken. I pulled him out of the van a few days ago, held him on my hip, and just as I slammed the sliding door shut, he stuck his little foot out. He wouldn't let me ice it, but he thought it was so fun that he got to sit on the counter and stick his foot under the cold running water. He limped around for an hour or two, but I didn't take him to the doctor, because I don't think there is much to be done for a broken toe. He is fine now. I've been alternating OTC pain meds, sneaking them into his sippy cups to get them down.

Harvey has taken a liking to the pair of pajamas he is wearing in these pictures. He cries when I take them off of him and when he sees them in his drawer he tugs them out and follows me around the house, handing them to me and saying "here." This, I have learned, means "please sweet mother, won't you help me get dressed in these special pajamas?" I have to wash them nearly every day.

Grey is also injured, as you can see. He was trying to get the edge of the sandbox in his mouth when gravity got the better of him. He tipped over and hit his cheek. I saw it happen, and even though it was all happening in slow-motion, I could not get to him fast enough. He was awfully brave, and rather than crying, he just kept trying to get the plywood sandbox walls in his mouth.

He is getting very close to crawling. He gets up on his hands and knees and rocks. He will be mobile very soon, and then I'll really have my hands full. I can tell it really pains him sometimes, that he is not big enough to get up and play. He watches Harvey longingly when Harvey goes down the slide, or chases the dog. Soon, Grey. Soon.