Stinky and Burpo

Remember the Marx Brothers? You know, the classic slapstick film actors who made dozens of movies and shorts. Well, they all had cool nicknames that described their personalities. There was Groucho, who was the master of quips and one-liners. And Harpo, who said nothing but used sounds to describe his moods. There was Wacko, and Karl and Richard as well... OK, so I think that Wacko was an Animaniac, and Karl was a revolutionary, and Richard was a silky-smooth soft rock virtuoso with a stone washed denim jacket and flowing locks of wavy hair.

Anyway, today prompted me to give my two NICU cuties Marx Brothers nicknames to describe their personalities. Malorie was dubbed Stinky, mostly because she stunk. The poor girl is still in the incubator, and needs all the heat her little body can generate. So, she had not been allowed to bathe in several days, because she would lose precious heat. Dimples over there finally did get a bath early this morning, but her incubator still smelled like week old formula. Regardless, Mal had a great day and really seems to have made some gains in her feedings. She is still without her NG tube, and is being slowly weened off the incubator with hopes that she will be ready for open crib test attempt number four tomorrow.

Burpo is the moniker I gave to Micah, who is incredibly difficult to burp. You can sit with him for ten minutes patting and rubbing his back, shifting positions and rubbing his head with no burp. Then, as soon as you lay him in his crib, he rips off a mammoth wet burp that requires changing his clothes. He has done this to me. He has done this to Rachel. And he has done this to several nurses. The best news of the day concerns ole Burpo, who has gone almost 48 hours without any significant health incidents. He is eating well, staying warm, and breathing on his own. The nurses asked us to bring in his car seat for a test overnight and ordered his circumcision - two sure signs that he is close to coming home.

On the home front, Rachel and her mother were in paradise after fellow twin mother Beth dropped off a big box of premie clothes. The girls gushed over just about every outfit. The entire scene was so sweet I think I got a cavity in a tooth just watching it. If I were to give myself a Marx Brothers name, it would be Itchy; because my beard feels like an infuriating swarm of mosquitoes. Finally, our pal Tyson has been waiting for the kids arrival for 8 days now. He has been wearing this Big Brother shirt the whole time, which is beginning to border on animal cruelty.

As for Beards for Babies, I was contacted by a Wolfson's Children's Hospital representative today who told me that $450 has come in during the first 24 hours in online donations alone. Please keep up the incredible support for this worthy cause, and spread the word. This NICU and the staff here are saving lives of wonderful babies everyday, just like Micah's and Malorie's. Finally, the Mal-stache of the Day comes from my Godson Jackson and his father, my Navy buddy Paul. Come to think of it, Jackson has long flowing hair, and as far as I remember he has a silky smooth voice... someone get this child a denim jacket and teach him to sing "Right Here Waiting," I have found mustachioed Richard Marx reincarnate!