Birth Story

So this is what "normal" is like.  A few weeks ago I remarked how strange it is to have everything going according to plan.  The whole time I was pregnant with Happy I was "waiting for the third shoe to drop" as my mom would say.  But it never did.  I had a nice, uneventful, 39 week pregnancy.  I felt pretty good almost the whole time (save for a weekend of debilitating chondritis of my ribs and just the general discomfort at the end from having a rather large baby inside).  

Saturday morning, we got up at 4 am so we could be at the hospital by 5 for surgery prep.   The actual procedure was as nice as could be. The atmosphere was totally different compared with Charlotte's birth, this time it was so relaxed and everyone was joking around.  One of the nurse anesthetists even offered to take some pictures.  

Our first picture with Abigail

Mike got take Abigail back to the recovery area and wait for me.  Then I got to hold Abigail and nurse her in the recovery area, which was sweet.  I felt so much better than after Charlotte's birth. With Charlotte I was so nervous, they gave me something to take the edge off and I was so drugged I barely remember anything.  This time, I was less nervous and I got to savor a lot more of the awesomeness of the experience.  

And So It Begins

In the spirit of the Spurs pending finals matchup against the Miami Heat, this video seemed fitting.  It appears that Tim Duncan just discovered he has arms.  Well, Charlotte has made a similar powerful yet simple discovery: the combination of "what's" with "that" yields amazing influence over conversations and parents.  I am happy to indulge her, even if I know she knows the answer.

It's only fair.  Whenever we look at books, we both know I am often asking her wh- questions that I know she knows the answer to.  So it stands to reason that she can, in turn, ask me "what's that" questions, even if we both know that she knows the answer.

Wow there was a lot of theory of mind going on in that last paragraph.  I'm glad I'm not reading this post to Charlotte out loud because then she'd ask me "what's that" about theory of mind, and I'd feel obligated to explain it to her in a way she'd understand.  In the meantime, you can imagine what the bulk of our conversations have been like lately.  A lot of her asking me "what's that" and a lot of me trying to find a short honest answer.

I had no problem working around these questions when I was working with kids Charlotte's age.  Funny how the rules change when it's your own flesh and blood, in terms of what you let go and work around and what you don't.

Overheard, Exhibit M

Charlotte's favorite book of the moment is Two Bad Ants, which I am lucky enough to have an autographed copy of (thanks Suze!) which is a small treasure.  Charlotte loves so many little snippets here and there about the book, that it has become one of my favorite books to read to her too.

So today as we were driving home from the hospital, Charlotte broke out this song, sung to the tune of Three Blind Mice.

"Two brown mice.  Two brown mice.
Two bad mice.  Two bad mice.
Two bad ants.  Two bad ants.
Two brown ants.  Two brown ants."

And that went on for about five minutes, just her randomly combining bad and brown with mice and ants.  A song only a parent could love.

See What I Mean?

Last night I e-mailed the school I work at a birth announcement and included a few pictures of Abigail as is standard practice.  I even added a line about how much hair Happy has so as to save people the trouble of commenting on it.  Even with that disclaimer thrown in there, this happens.  This is the entire e-mail:


"Congratulations Michael! I haven't met you yet as it's my first year at Washington. I can't believe how much hair your daughters have."

Even in e-mail, complete strangers can't help but comment on our daughters' hair in three sentences or less.

Daddy's Girls

Sisters

Charlotte: 3 weeks after her due date

Abigail: One day old

Happy's Birth Day

Anyone reading this knows that Emily did great with the surgery and that Happy is doing quite well.  I have been calling her Happy so long that the name has kind of stuck for now.  I have no idea where this will take us.  Sleepy would be a better for name for her.

And if you happen to have a hobby that is as specific as it bizarre, having conversations with complete strangers about someone else's hair, then Abigail is the perfect chid for you to take out with you in pubic.  Or at least to a hospital.  Easily over 75% of the people we've run into need less than 10 seconds to mention the quantity of hair this child has.

It is natural to ask about Charlotte.  She spent Friday night and much of Saturday with some friends of ours who have two sons that Charlotte loves to play with.  Their awesome toy collection is an added incentive.

The first meeting between the two sisters was yesterday afternoon and pretty unremarkable.  Charlotte thought every sound Happy made was a laughing sound and kept on saying how Happy was a funny baby.  She was also quick to point out that Happy was the same baby that had been in Mommy's belly button.  Today Charlotte was a bit more clingy than usual but otherwise was her normal happy self.

However, I am pretty sure we aren't the first people to have a second kid and we won't be the last.  There is comfort in that.  Charlotte will sort out her place in the world with this new sibling the same way my sisters did and billions of other people did.  And Emily and I will adjust just fine to our expanded family, like billions of other parents have.