Still not sleeping much, but I'm suspecting that might have as much to do with two impending molars as it does with post-op anxiety, fear, or other weirdness.
His hair is starting to make an appearance, albeit slowly, so at least he's not looking bald as a cue ball. I'm anxious for the stitches to start dissolving so that his scar is less noticeable. Or less inviting to toddlers, children, and well meaning but rude strangers to touch his head and say "what happened to his head?" It feels a little bit like pregnant woman syndrome where perfect strangers think nothing of coming up and touching your belly. I can't count the number of people who, over the past week, have thought it was perfectly acceptable to put their hands on Max's scar. Just for the record, its not okay. (And am I the only one that thinks it's strange that I even have to explain that? Seriously, people! Get a clue!)
So since the girls are out of school for spring break, we decided to spend the day at the children's museum.
I spent a lot of time chasing Max, who thought all his Christmases had come at once. A room full of balls! Water I'm allowed to play in! Kids everywhere!
Playing in the helicopter.
And, since I'm a slightly obsessive post-op cranio mom, I also spent tonight chasing him around with a camera trying to get pictures of his head. (He looks like such a little boy in this picture. Where did my baby go?)
Mom, will you quit taking pictures already? I'm in the bath for crying out loud!
This is the best shot I got of his new and improved forehead.
And we finished out the night with Max and Dad's all time favorite activity. Do they look nearly identical or is that just me?