Today, and Today, and Today

So. Today's nap was unnecessarily early and rather too short if I do say so myself (He fell asleep on the way home from bible study), as evidenced by multiple episodes of this, which occurred throughout the evening:

These episodes, wherein he throws himself to the floor (good thing our carpet is thick and soft) and wails, occured for various reasons, including, but not limited to:
a) His snack cup had been spotted in a state of emptiness
b) I failed to throw him up in the air 1.7 billion consecutive times without stopping
c) The sky was falling
d) It was his party and he could cry if he wanted to. Clearly, he wanted to.

However, once bedtime actually rolled around, despite his over-sleepiness, he opened up a can of Cute & Charming, and played ball with Stanley, who has now been upgraded to something like "Nonny" which I'm sure John appreciates, since formerly the dog was called "Daddy." The real Daddy, however, is still usually called Ababa, which is in fact Amharic for Daddy, so that is just fine, except that he still uses this word for random people sometimes as well. Hey, it's still better than sharing a title with the dog. :)

Anyway, here are happy pictures: (and new jammies!)

Look! Even a smile!
This is by far the most composed he's been around "Nonny" as of yet. He still got nervous if the dog made a sudden move, tho, like he wasn't quite sure whether to scream in terror or just giggle.

And, since I mentioned the new jammies, I have a dilemma that any of you mothers (or non-mothers who just specialize in good ideas) who might not be in the midst of a boredom-induced narcoleptic fit by now can feel free to weigh in on... Isaac hates blankets. He hates them over him when he is awake, and since he's a pretty wild sleeper, they really do not stay on him even if you put them over him after he's asleep. But his little legs and feet are so cold in the mornings! He really only had one pair of warm jammies that fit him comfortably (Thanks Aunt Marcia!) til I bought these for a backup, but even in the footie pajamas his little toesies get so cold. Maybe I should not worry about it, because he's apparently not cold enough that he wakes up, but I still feel bad for him in the morning when he feels cold to the touch. I did turn up the furnace a couple degrees today so we can see if that helps. We have a space heater we could try, but they are sort of a fire hazard to leave running for many hours unattended, and besides, then it'd be 900 degrees in there by morning, and that's not good either. So... what shall I do?

Loyal Bloggies, I beseech thee: Protect the Polar Piggies!