Babies and their guns

Meg loves her baby dolls. I find it so fascinating that she's so into them. We certainly didn't have any laying around from when Andy was littler (Jennifer's doll days are certainly far behind). But sure enough, she gravitated to one at her babysitter's house and wouldn't put it down. This all started over the summer when my parents were visiting. We had just checked out the National Rifle Association's joke of a museum in Fairfax (although the museum itself was puny and not well done or designed, the gift shop was fantastic and resulted in some excellent NRA gifts and t-shirts). My mother decided Meg's first baby should be named Daisy, after the Daisy bb-gun, which was the first commercial air gun (for children, naturally.)

Naming all her subsequent dolls after guns was a really fun inside joke for the family. So we now have:

Callie (short for calibre)
Remy (short for Remington)
Winnie (for Winchester)
Spider (well, that's not a weapon, Andy was just fascinated by spiders around Halloween and it stuck)

And now that she's amassing quite a collection of dolls, I've run out of ideas for names. We've thought about Glock, but that just seems to obvious (and frankly not that fun to say), Bullet, 30-06, Rifle, Bolt -- but really, nothing clever is coming to mind. I need help! Suggest your favorite weapon-related baby doll name. (Come on, it's not that subversive.)

 Meg pushing one of her new Christmas dollies in the stroller she got from Santa (who goes by Grandmother).

Mark your calendar

I watch Meg take two steps tonight. She can totally walk now if she wants, but right now she's still a little too tentative. It's funny, she'll take steps on her own, but if I reach out to have her walk to me, she smiles big and drops to crawl. I suppose she's not a baby anymore.

Andy, on the other hand, clearly wants to be a baby again. He keeps talking about getting back into Mommy's tummy (sorry, not going to happen). He also insisted I put the pack and play in his room so he can sleep there. So far, he has only slept there for two hours before crying that his neck hurt. He is also spending a lot of time saying, "Ga ga, goo goo, I'm a baby." I had no idea the Freudian stuff started this early.

And the winner is...

Trixie is the name of the bunny. I know you were all waiting anxiously for that. Please alert the media.

Andy started in his new class last week and loves it. It's so great that he loves it, it really is, but he half the weekend asking if his school was open. He was even asking for Miss Paris by name. I think he has a little crush. Bjorn even reported that at drop off day, he didn't even give the perfunctory, "But Daddy, I'm going to miss you." Instead, he waved and said good-bye. Today I even picked up Meg first and then went to get Andy, giving him an extra 15 minutes at school. Even then he wasn't quite ready to come home.

Meg is just beyond adorable right now. She loves to smile, a lot, and kicks her legs in excitement when I walk in the room. Man, is it nice to be the prettiest, funniest and smartest person in the room for her. Unfortunately, the poor little chicken has developed a little constipation. I only mention it because when her belly hurts, man, she is unhappy. When she's normally so happy and smiley, it's such a shock when she seems inconsolable for longer than a few seconds. I did discover the hard way that a warm bath seems to, er, ease her system. I tell you, there is so much of this motherhood stuff that is just disgusting.

Meanwhile, does anyone know how to back up a Blogspot blog? It occurs to me that since this is the only baby book my kids are going to have, I should figure out how to create a back-up to ensure that I have the information for them.

On my own

This has been my first week on my own without my mom or Bjorn home to help. It's definitely proved challenging handling having two kids at once, especially as I struggle to remember all this new baby stuff all over again. I think we're getting there though. I am finding it almost impossible to sleep when the baby sleeps though as by the time I've finally got her to a nap point in the afternoon, it's time to pick Andy up from school. And naturally, during the day I get almost nothing done around the house except maybe loading or unloading the dishwasher and maybe a load of laundry.

Speaking of sleeping, Meg is waking up at least three times a night lately and sometimes more. The hardest is when I get up to feed her and then she doesn't want to go back to sleep after that. Bjorn has been a big help on that front as a few times I've had to hand her off after an hour or more trying to get her down. He's done the same a few times after he's gotten up to give her a bottle and then had her refuse to go back to sleep. We're working on trying to find some pattern to the madness, but every night is a new and different challenge, that's for sure.

Despite the sleep deprivation and maniacal crying she gives in the car periodically, it has been really special having a new baby again. She still has that new baby smell in her hair (which is sticking straight up after her bath earlier this week) and I just love it when she sleeps on my chest. She's not officially smiling back yet, but she's been flashing me a few test smiles and they do make up for a lot, like her tendancy to pee on the diaper table just after I've put on a new diaper and outfit.

Andy seems to have hit a growth spurt in his language development, which is good and bad. His new favorite word is "why" which accompanies just about every conversation. He has also developed some more advanced reasoning. He now tries to negotiate if he's not getting what he wants and even tries going to Dad if Mom doesn't work. Again, also good and bad. The hardest part of where he is right now is that he's getting stingy with the hugs. I almost have to tackle him to get a hug out of him these days. Little bugger.

Pictures

Margaret Anne, hot off the presses. To think they said she'd be 8 1/2 pounds on the high end if she delivered on schedule. As it was, she was 8 1/3 a week early.

The happy and exhausted parents.

My mother and Meg's namesake.

Meg's other grandmother and other namesake. (To be fair, Margaret Anne is neither of their names exactly, it's more an homage to Margareta and Nancy.)

Andy meeting his new sister. Me looking like I just had a baby.

My mother's bag. You'll notice the small bottle of Dewar's in the pocket. She is a very smart lady.

The O.B. who delievered Meg. She stopped by to check on me and was so glad I took her picture when she was cleaned up and hadn't been on call for two days. And yes, I do think she's younger than me.

You guys said I could wear sweats to leave the hospital. And I did. Great decision.

We're home

It's been such a busy few days I'm not exactly where to start, but the bottom line is we're now home with a lovely baby girl we're calling Meg. Ten fingers, 10 toes and everything else seems where it should be. I can't tell who she looks like although she does seem to resemble Andy a bit when he was a baby. Her eyes are slate blue at the moment and her hair is a brown with a hint of what looks like blond tips. Some day she'll likely pay money for that shade. Labor the second time around was no walk in the park, but it was a lot shorter and generally less traumatic. My doctor believed in medication early and often so I think that made for a better experience. I'll post the full account eventually, but for now, we are home. We are happy. Life is good. I apparently need to come up with a new name for this blog though. Thoughts?

Meanwhile, please keep this little baby born on the same day as Meg in your thoughts. I can only imagine how scary that must be.

BGB!

Hello, Internet from Guest Poster Betsy.

I just got the great news from Bjorn that BGB has arrived.

Margaret Anne Bennett was born at 3:09 AM, starting what will hopefull not be a long trend of making her mother lose sleep. She is 8 pounds, 5 ounces and 21" long. Baby, Mommy, and the rest of the family are doing great.

As you can see, she is beautiful and looks just like her daddy.

Either that, or Bjorn should have sent me a picture.

Congratulations, family!

Happy Birthday to Andy

Andy had his third birthday on Friday and he proudly spent the entire day telling everyone, "I'm th-free" while trying to hold up only three fingers. We celebrated with pancakes in the morning, a few presents a 2 1/2 hour doctor's appointment for BGB while they tried to estimate how big she is/will be and with a trip to the burrito store.

Today we had his party, and by party I mean we invited his best friend Mia, her dad, my MIL, Bjorn, Mark and me. We had a Thomas cake from Giant that turned out pretty good even though I think the food coloring in the icing may have permanently stained my dining room table and teeth. I probably could have invited one more kid and his/her parents once we found out my niece had a school event preventing the rest of her family from coming to the party, but I think it turned out well anyway. Andy and Mia had fun together and the rest of us got to visit without the chaos of lots more kids.

With BGB on the way, Andy's birthday really got me thinking back to the day he was born. It's hard to believe it's been three years already. He has grown so much, physically and mentally over the past few years. I like to think I've grown a lot as a parent, too (not Bjorn, of course, he knew all this already and didn't need the refresher, he says.)

Now that we have successfully made it past Andy's birthday, BGB can officially be born now. I really wanted to get past the holidays and past Mark and Andy's birthdays. Now that those hurdles have been cleared, I am just about ready. The doctor estimates the baby is about 7-7.5 pounds now. If she gains half a pound a week until delivery roughly, that makes her 8.5-9 pounds. That seems quite big to me, but it's probably not so big I can't at least attempt a normal delivery. Not that a normal delivery is on my list of favorite things to do, but I hear the second one is usually much faster and somewhat easier than the first and having endured the longer version, I'll sign up for the shorter one in the hopes that it makes my recovery easier, too.

The detailed sonogram was very cool although the baby is big enough now that she doesn't fit on one screen so it's hard to really see that it looks like a baby because they could only focus on a few body parts at a time. The good news is the brain and heart as well as kidneys and bladder all look good, flowing the right ways and in the right places. The only reason it took so long as she was being modest with her hands on her chest so they couldn't get a good look at the heart.

Oddly, the best part of the whole visit was on our way out, an older lady who had been riding on the elevator with us stopped to talk. She asked Andy how old he was and then told me she'd never seen a three year old with such an extensive vocabulary. Sure, I have no idea who this nice, red-haired older woman is. She could have been escaping the dementia ward at the hospital for all I know, but who cares! She thinks my kid is a genius and you just don't get enough of that.

Dress up

Naked drummer boy, complete with towel/cape.

Andy in his pajamas wearing his hat and his backpack, fully loaded with Mutt, Jeff and Steve.

I had a theory that girls are more interested than boys in playing dress up. This based on a few get togethers lately where the girls couldn't wait to take their clothes off and start dressing like Cindarella while the boys found something to break. Then Andy went and proved me wrong. Turns out he likes dress up, just not into a fairy princess. This kid cracks me up.

So it's officially less than three weeks until BGB makes her appearance. That makes me about 37 weeks, which makes me pretty much full term, meaning I can burst at any time now. I'm conflicted hour by hour on wanting this baby out now, now, NOW and figuring she's fine in there/who the hell said I was going to be capable of this? The hospital bag is now (mostly) packed. I struggled with clothes to pack for myself. They say to pack what you wore at 6 months, but I can't remember what I wore last week, much less two months ago. So I have over-packed and probably the wrong things. If only it were PC to wear sweats home from the hospital.

I think I have all the baby gear lined up, too. My office threw me a surprise shower and the folks in my department kindly gave me separate gifts of clothes so between that, Andy's old stuff and what my mom got me a few weeks ago, we're looking good (where it's all going to go is another story). Sure, it looks like a bottle of Pepto threw up all over the baby's room, but it's just so cute! Bjorn is horrified. I still haven't rented a breast pump. Soon. Promise.

What I have been surprised by is how much this kid can kick and move around when she wants to. I swear sometimes it feels like she's just going to kick hard and punch through the skin. She is also safely head down at this point. That means she's gearing up for her eventually exit. It also means when she kicks hard or stretches just right, she can really wallop some discomfort down below. It's to the point that if she's really getting me just right, I have to change my position.

We keep reading books to Andy about the new baby and he is generally happy about it. He does refer to her as "my baby" which is pretty adorable with that toddler speech impediment. We also talk about the things he can do that she can't, like she won't be able to watch the DVD in the new car (that seemed to make him feel big and proud). However, she will get to drink out of a bottle. It's going to be interesting to see how this goes.

Gran-mun-ner

My mother came this weekend to visit and help get stuff ready for BGB, who is now officially due in less than a month. We toured Babies R Us (it's been a while since I've been there) and stocked up on newborn diapers, a new Diaper Champ, some newborn nipples for bottles and lots of other things that I haven't needed in a few years. I still have some stuff left to do, like rent a breast pump and some other exciting details, but I feel pretty confident now that the main stuff is on hand.

It was really good that she was here to help me really think about what we needed to get. While I'm very ready to not be pregnant any longer, the thought of a newborn in the house is actually quite scary. A friend gave me the name of a night nurse she used a few days a week with her daughter that I'm hoping can help me a few days a week when BGB comes. My theory is that if I can avoid the true, all-consuming bone-numbing fatigue that comes with a newborn, I might actually be able to survive getting up three or four times a night for months on end. I swear after having Andy, I began to understand why slept deprivation is a form of torture. It really does mess with your head.

Speaking of my head, I am recovering from an ear infection. If you're counting at home, you'll know that this pregnancy has brought me:
1) Four months of morning/afternoon/evening sickness.
2) Stomach flu.
3) Strep throat.
4) Never-ending cold.
5) Fluid in my left ear that refuses to drain due and makes it difficult to hear.
6) Bronchitis.
7) A middle ear infection.

I'm back on penicillin and I'm hopeful this will knock it out. I went to my internist as opposed to my OB and I'm glad I did. He listened to my lungs and said it's not pneumonia, which is a relief since I've been coughing for two months. The ear was definitely infected so he gave me the antibiotic as well as some steroid nose spray that is safe in pregnancy. He hopes the nose spray will help dry up my sinuses and hopefully dry up the fluid in my ear as well. Fingers crossed.

Andy loved having my mother here for the weekend. She spoiled him by reading him lots of books, helping him work puzzles and generally being his playmate. He was sad when we had to say good-bye to her at the airport although I imagine my mother was ready for a good nap.

Merry Christmas to the enormous pregnant lady

As an early Christmas present, Andy has managed to use the potty successfully twice in two days. I still think we're a ways off full-blown potty trained and with a baby due in five weeks, I'm figuring whatever we do now will succumb to regression as he gets used to all the changes in the house. But I'm encouraged that his interest has picked up again. Certainly the fuss we make over it and the special cookies (a piece of Cookie Crisp cereal) help.

We're officially ready for Christmas around here. Andy has been loving the Christmas books we've been reading, especially the Polar Express. Bjorn has hidden lots of the presents for their big debut on the 25th and we have a separate special pile to take to his mother's tomorrow for the Swedish celebration. Jennifer and I even went out today to get our nails done -- pedicure for me and a manicure for her. If Santa looks at nails to determine if we've been good or bad, we're all set.

I'm definitely feeling more and more like a pregnant whale these days. When shopping the other day, I had to park pretty far away and found I had to pause half way there. It's wasn't that I out of breath per se, but seemed to develop some type of a walking cramp kind of thing in my side. I know I'm out of shape, but dang, that's harsh. I'm also finding it harder to sleep more than a few hours at a time (cruel irony since I know what's coming). My left ear is still stopped up and the cold is not showing signs of going away. I'm now resigned to the fact that neither will improve until after I have this baby. Now if I could just figure out how to have the baby, take a week to recover by getting lots of sleep and perhaps drink plenty of wine and THEN start caring for a newborn, I would really like that. That's possible, right?

The last piece of office furniture -- the filing cabinet -- is now out of the baby's room and into the basement until we figure out exactly where it should go permanently. Andy and I spent some time getting the baby's closet together and putting some baby clothes away. I haven't packed a bag yet, but it's definitely starting to seem more real. Yikes.

Meanwhile, as a little Christmas present from me to you, check out this really awful school picture over here. The crying kid combined with the bizarre phallic mushrooms and creepy lizard combine to make a portrait that this kid's parents will use for blackmail with friends and girlfriends the rest of his life. It's gorgeous.

'Tis the Season

Andy is old enough now to understand the advent calendar. Well, sort of. He's old enough to understand counting numbers and the idea of opening the little windows every day (and eat the chocolate). He's not quite old enough to get the concept of what he's counting down toward per se, but it's still fun each day to see him open his window. It's pretty darn cute.

Saturday we had Andy's sibling class at Virginia Hospital Center. It would have been better had we arrived on time and/or not spent 10 minutes trying to locate the room for the class considering it only lasted about an hour. But Andy did instructions on how to gently hold a new baby (using a doll) and sing it a lullaby. We also took him on a tour of the labor and delivery and post-partum floor. We'll need to know where that is soon enough.

We also saw the nursery. The lovely nurse teaching the class warned that we might not see any babies in the nursery since they "really encourage rooming in," but there must have been at least 10 tiny babies in there. Intellectually, I know how small they start out, but it was a good (and scary) reminder to actually see hours old babies. I think it's finally hitting me that we're going to have a tiny baby sometime next month. Wow.

Andy has been a darling most of the weekend, including getting his hair cut (quite short) this morning. In all this cuteness though, I know his ear surgery is tomorrow. I'm trying not to worry about it, but it sort of lingers in the back of my mind. We had the pre-op appointment on Friday with his pediatrician who is always exceptionally nice. She gave me some basic advice, like how it's hard for mothers to watch the anesthesia take effect since the kids often look like they're dying even though they're not (funny, the surgical nurse who called to give me last minute instructions said the same thing). The surgery is tomorrow morning. I'll post something when I get a chance letting everyone know how he's doing.

What? Is a baby coming or something?

Just today, my friend Jenn returned a bunch of Andy's stuff and my cousin Frances sent me some stuff from her daughter. On top of the crib we already had, glider I bought from a friend, rug Bjorn bought, shoe moulding I installed and a dresser, suddenly the room is looking just about ready for a baby to go in it. How crazy is that?

What's weird is with all the baby stuff taking over the house in combination with all the Christmas decorations out, suddenly my house is feeling exceptionally full and disorganized. I'm not especially clean and organized to begin with so that's saying something. It just seems that in every room there is an extra chair or table -- hopefully temporarily.

And since I'm clearly nesting (and therefore somewhat hyper and manic), what stinks is that a lot of it is too heavy for me to realistically be lugging up and down the stairs. That means my frenzy is dependent on someone stronger than Andy being around and willing to move things for me at a moment's notice. Yeah, Mark and Bjorn don't think that is getting old at all.

One month, 28 days and 15 hours to go. Not that I'm counting. (Actually, I'm not technically counting either, but my Yahoo! widget is counting for me.)

In case you're curious, this is what the room looked like a couple of weeks ago.

Nursery 2.0

We (actually, Mark and Bjorn) spent a good part of the weekend clearing out the computer room to make room upstairs for a nursery again. We now have both computers in the basement and the room is empty except for my non-maternity clothes and a massive filing cabinet. Both will have to move before too long, but the bulk of the work is done.

They also got the crib out of the attic. It all looks so small seeing it again. I need to get out and find a rug for the room though. With Andy, the room still had wall-to-wall carpeting, but it was old to start with and pretty nasty by the end of it all. So when when we switched Andy's into a bigger room, we exposed the hardwood floors. They're in good shape, but I think something warmer on my feet would be good for all the late nights and early mornings in winter.

As you can see, we still have to put the crib et al together, but at least we have the space to do it. Plus, unlike last time, the crib is in six big pieces and not 30 little ones so it should be easier to put back together.

We went to a birthday party at a place today in Manassas called Pump It Up that is a huge indoor moon bounce with slides. The kids liked it, even Andy who is afraid of moonbounces got it and jumped around a little bit. The odd thing was that they made us sign a waiver saying we wouldn't sue if we got hurt. Then as you approach the room, there are signs saying by entering, I understand they are not liable if I or my dependents get hurt. They even have a training video to watch so you understand what you're getting yourself into. I know America is litigious, but wow, this was pretty over the top, it seems.

We've been on a birthday party circuit the last few weeks. So much so that Andy is now asking about his birthday party (he has asked both me and Bjorn if we can come). This is posing a bit of a dilemma for me. We haven't really done a party for him in the past, but he'll be three and this year he knows not only how old he is, but how birthday parties work. So I feel like I really have to throw him some kind of a party, but on January 11, I'm going to be 9 months pregnant and most likely uninterested in a huge party. I've been thinking about just inviting 4-5 friends with kids Andy knows over for a small party so he can do cake and celebrate, but where do I draw the line? In January, it will be winter so inviting five families means at least one adult and one kid, possibly more. Then adding in some family it will easily get to be 20 people. So much for a small party. Thoughts? Tips? Drug suggestions?

Merry Christmas

In cleaning out Andy's closet, I came across a Santa hat that I believe was Bjorn's growing up. My mother-in-law found a box a couple of years ago when she was moving full of 40-year-old baby stuff and, being the pack rat that I am, I have been trying to salvage whatever of it I can, including this hat. Andy put it on a few nights ago and proceeded to dance around the room. I have some hi-larious video to upload later when Blogger speeds up a bit of him dancing to his own song as he prances around the room. More blackmail material it's so cute.

What I like about this picture is he's naked except for his diaper, his Santa hat and all the spaghetti sauce all over his face (it was right after dinner and just before bath time). Well, that and he's just got a great smile that makes me smile looking at it.

BGB seems to be cooking along nicely. I swear she can kick me in the hip and in the boob at the same time, making me think she's 20 inches and 10 pounds already. The movement is cool and always reassuring, but there are some times (like when I'm trying to get comfortable in bed) that I want her to pipe down in there. I'm also really started to feel like a whale, having trouble getting in and out of bed, and dropping stuff constantly. It scares me to think that I have 10-12 more weeks of this when I'll just get bigger and more uncomfortable.

At this point, it's sort of a toss up. I know having a newborn is going to be tough, especially with an active (and often cranky) three-year-old in tow. But the backaches, muscle aches, leg cramps, weird dreams, water retention, clumsiness and enormous belly are all making me anxious to get to the next phase.

Mom?

In the last two days, Andy has gone from calling me "Mommy" to calling me "Mom." It's fine; I really preferred "Mama" over "Mommy" anyway. But now that he's doing it, it seems so grown up somehow. "Mom" is what teenagers call their mothers, not nearly three year olds, right?

My darling angel child has been back today. Sure, he's still clearly 2 3/4, but his mood has been lighter, the fits less frequent and generally he's a joy to be around. We spent the evening moving an old dresser from Mark's room into Andy's. The dresser Mark had needed repairs, plus the drawers are annoyingly small for a grown up. For a kid, they're great. I managed to have enough drawers to segregate the pajama tops and bottoms by sleeve and leg length and still have tons more drawers so it's actually somewhat practical with a kid this age. And for Mark, Bjorn got him a taller dresser with four really big drawers that not only works better, but is a lot more useful. There is one short dresser that we moved from Andy's room into into BGB's (Baby Girl Bennett) room. We're getting close (well, 2 1/2 months) to needing to have the room set up. Yikes!

Persistence

Andy is getting more an more persistent about things, which is surprising, charming and annoying all at once. Here's a recent dialogue:

Andy: I want to watch Thomas.
Me: After breakfast, you can watch one Thomas. Then you can help me in the yard.
Andy: NO! I want to watch Thomas NOW!
Me: Holding back a laugh. Why don't we have breakfast first?
Andy: NO! I want Thomas first!

This goes on and on until we come to some agreement or one of us wears down. Charming, eh?

To the right is a not very good picture of Andy wearing his new blue blazer. My friend Laura works for Macy's and scored us a great discount on a blazer so now he can look just like his father and brother. Plus, now I have something dressy for holiday stuff. The kicker though is just how darn cute he looks in it! It's a 4T so a bit too big still and I need to find the right shirt to wear underneath (a Child's Place sells plain white Oxfords, but I want to find one that's permanent press as ironing a shirt for a kid seems senseless).

Last year I had good luck at Wal-Mart of all places that sold a permanent press shirt complete with a tie that Velcros (Velcroes?) at the back of the neck. I looked a few weeks ago, but at the moment I think it's too early in the season for the holiday wear to be out. Then again, all the stores here have taken down their Halloween decorations and gone straight to Christmas so maybe now is the time to shop after all.

What's scary is I'm having this much fun dressing a boy. Imagine with a girl all the fun I'll have with Mary Jane's (apostrophe or not? I struggled...), tights and velvet dresses. So long as it's not pink.

Whining and crying

Andy is really starting to perfect the temper tantrum. Worst of all, he's now throwing them about totally stupid things, like when he breathlessly shouts through tears, "I...don't...want...the...monkey...cup!" Yes, folks, the thought of the monkey cup over the Sponge Bob cup is worthy of 20 minutes of tears. I'm doing my best to ignore it when possible, put him on the time out step when it seems appropriate and try to keep my wits about me when he manages to push my buttons...just right.

Course, the bugger will be obnoxious for an entire day and then it comes bedtime and he comes at me wanting more hugs and I just melt.

We've been talking to Andy a little about the new baby. The only concept that has seemed to stick is that sometime around his birthday, we'll get a new baby from the hospital that will come home to live with us. So now he keeps saying, "I'm getting a baby for my birthday." Not quite right, but he's thinking about it.

I'm still on the hunt for decent maternity clothes. I have had some luck with cute pants from Target and Gap Maternity. What I'm struggling with now is tops that are at least semi-work appropriate. I have started branching out to look in the Women's sections for some stuff. It's not quite right, but there seems to be a much larger selection of better items there sometimes than in the maternity section. At least it's getting cooler so I can start layering and wearing sweaters. Sigh. Is it February yet?

Baby Names

Now that we've narrowed the naming process down to only one sex, we need to spend some time thinking about names and doing our due diligence. And by due diligence, I mean you can't name your kid Marc Anthony and then be surprised to learn he was also a historical figure who killed himself over Cleopatra.

To help with this process, Betsy sent me a rockin' Web site located here with great ideas for what not to name your kid. It's awesomely bad. Plus, the site already gets some street cred with me for this first item. I can personally vouch that Love Seamon was a real person as I remember her going through rush at Emory. I remember hearing she was a nice girl, but dang, that's a really unfortunate name.

Baby Emma

After harassing my mother for not sending any pictures with the baby's face, she sent me this one and promises to send more with her eyes open. Reports are she's doing great and when I talked to Elizabeth, she sounded great as well. Also, big news is the baby has a name - Emma. So glad to hear everyone is happy and healthy. They leave the hospital today. Now if she'd only start sleeping through the night already. Five days isn't too much to ask, is it?