M. Giant's
Velcrometer
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks


Monday, November 29, 2004  

Happy Birthday

Those of you who have been stalking me for a little while already know that yesterday was M. Tiny’s official due date. I wrote this entry a couple of months ago in honor of the occasion, figuring that I wouldn’t have time to do it properly after his birth. Which, as of tomorrow, is actually seven weeks gone.

But anyway. I’ll just put this up. No time to review or rewrite; I’ll just assume that aside from a few minor details, everything I wrote then applies today.


Everything changes now. Our son was born yesterday, just as we learned he would be about two months ago. He came into the world at _____, weighing __pounds, _____ounces, and measuring ______ inches. He has ____of his body parts, including ____of his fingers and toes, with beautiful _____ hair and _______eye[s]. He looks exactly the way we imagined him.

We feel so lucky, Trash and I. Lucky that the birth mother carried him full-term, for one thing. Two months really isn’t much time at all to get ready for a new arrival in the family as it is, and we’ve had to rush to make sure everything is prepared. I can’t imagine what kind of sad state we’d be in if he’d arrived a few days early.

And thank heaven we had enough time to finish all of our holiday preparations, too. All of the Christmas shopping and holiday cards and cookie-baking have been taken care of in advance, thanks to Trash’s excellent planning skills. It would have been pretty tough to manage all that with a newborn in the house, let me tell you.

I also feel lucky that I had time to get settled in at my current office gig before my whole life turned upside down. Can you imagine how stressful it would have been for me to start a new job with a week-old baby in the mix? I probably would have ended up in the Emergency Room speaking gibberish or something.

There’s only one thing: they sure send newborns home quick these days. It may be horrible of me to say so, but part of me almost wishes that they could put him up in the hospital for a little while, and we could hang out and sort of practice on him. You know, get some hands-on lessons in baby care. Not a long stay, of course. Maybe just a day or two. And then we’d bring him home, fully prepared, and get to know him there.

But anyway now he’s home, all set up in our perfectly-organized nursery that we took the time to get exactly right. Strat and Orca are still adjusting, but I think they’ll all get along just fine.

For now, we’re just basking in our good fortune: relaxed, well-rested, and completely on top of our domestic situation. Two months didn’t seem like much time when we first got chosen to parent this baby, but it turned out to be exactly the amount of time we needed. Welcome to the world, M. Tiny. And welcome home. The next seven weeks or so are going to be the most special weeks of our lives.

Today’s best search phrase: "MAMMA MAMMA MAMMA." Oh, how we look forward to the days when M. Tiny is a couple of months old and making random vocal noises for no reason that we can ascertain. That will be so wonderful.

posted by M. Giant 7:30 PM 2 comments

2 Comments:

Heh. I guess *someone* wasn't paying attention a few years ago when everyone declared the Death of Irony.

By Blogger Monty, at November 30, 2004 at 1:40 AM  

Um, yeah, I think MG misunderstood that announcement.

However, it totally explains the really wrinkly dress shirts.

By Blogger Febrifuge, at November 30, 2004 at 9:20 AM  

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