A coworker of Andy's gave Baby Dyer a gift recently - an adorable stuffed Eeyore. I was thrilled when I opened the package - Eeyore was always my favorite of the Pooh clan. Apparently, I wasn't the only one thrilled with the gift. So was Sullivan. The second he laid eyes on it, he was so excited and began to hop around. Now, I don't know if he thought it was an elephant (his favorite kind of stuffed animal to rip up) or if he just assumed all cute and fuzzy things belong to him (cats included). But, boy, was he dissapointed when I told him "No!" and put Eeyore back in the box. Then I realized we may have a problem here. Not only is Sullivan going to receive drastically less attention from Mommy and Daddy, but the toys we bring home will no longer be for him. How exactly are we going to teach him to distinguish between his toys and the baby's? I mean, if they duke it out over a stuffed animal, who do you think is going to win: the 100-pound ball of fur and claws or the squirmy sack of flesh that can't even roll over? We are actively soliciting advice from those who have experienced this or similar situations.
In unrelated news, I went to the doctor Monday. My uterus is slowly inching its way toward my belly button and the baby's heartbeat is at 155. Though I'm not gaining any weight, the doctor said it's ok because the baby is a parasite that will take what it needs. That was oddly comforting to hear. We go for the ultrasound on August 14. Sullivan has no idea what's going on, but he's been especially paranoid and protective lately for some reason. So maybe he's not so dumb and he really was staking his claim on Eeyore before the competition shows up ...
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