So, um, Which one of these Buttons Makes the Fake I.D.?

The two big questions are: What did you finally name the kid? (Ask the Grandpas.) And, how is Max doing with the new baby?

Admittedly, I was concerned about this second issue. Max, as you may have gathered from this blog, is the center of a cute-fueled, white-hot universe composed of nearly incoherent blathering parent-love. Ever expanding, I might add. Consider also, Max's documented sensitivity to fictional, yet colorful, spiders; and I'll admit: Daddy was worried.

Of course, I was not giving my magical boy the benefit of the doubt. Max, in some weird toddler way, has sort of matured in the past few days. It could be he just seems more mature next to his burbling younger brother but, I don't know, there's more than that. It's kind of like he has a little purpose, some sense of responsibility. Roll your eyes if you will, but the kid comes over and helps us get fresh diapers ready for the baby; he'll jam Miles's crutchie (pacifier) back in if Katie and I are both in the kitchen, fighting over the last bit of wine in the bottle; and while we change Miles's diaper, Max hangs close by and reminds us what's what on the baby's face: "Eyes!", points at Mile's eye. "Nose!", points at nose. We're so sleep deprived right now, it doesn't hurt to have reminders.