Monkey Toes, the art critic

Marjie gifted Emmett a set of Wee Gallery Art Cards.  He LOVES them!  No kidding.  Well, I don't know if he loves them... that concept is probably beyond him at this point, but he is definitely interested in them.  Before anyone goes and buys him a his first palette and easel, I should say that he also finds the fan mesmerizing and stares long and hard at the big black rectangle of chalkboard paint on the wall in what one day may very well be a finished nursery (possibly in time for our next kid).  Sarah says he's in his modern art phase.

Just kidding.  No more kids.  But seriously, the nursery might get finished some day.  Note the advanced swaddle technique, here.  One arm out so that he can point and do his Dr. Strangelove thing.  

Morning cuddle time!

Here, the Dude demonstrates the benefits of monkey toes.  I look forward to many years of sharing in the moments of great pride that come with picking things up and even throwing them with one's feet.  Also, should I ever get into painting, he'll make a great easel.

Home

Normally, the stay in the hospital is 48 hours, or two nights, after the baby is born.  We felt (and by we, I mean mostly Sarah) like we'd already put in our time.  After a parade of professionals poked and prodded and listened and lectured and etc., we were cleared to leave a day early.  Despite all my fears and paranoia, Emmett is complete and happy, and doesn't have the worst personality, so far.  He knows all the fundamentals of babydom, including feeding, sleeping, crying, and pooping.

Before we could go, the Dude got a little bath... It was not his favorite thing ever.  He looked at Sarah like, what the heck was that all about.  Love this shot.

He forgave us pretty quickly.  He's also really into being swaddled, which is cool.  He slept on the couch with me for awhile on night one, and then swaddled and in a bassinet for the rest of the morning.

Thanks to Grammy and Pop H, Chopper had a dapper little outfit to go home in.  He tried to help out, but isn't that handy with knots yet.  Also, I'm not sure he knows that the hands belong to him.  It's kind of like watching a small, less fascist Doctor Strangelove.



All set!  Let's go home!

A beautiful and thoughtful homecoming prepared by Gangie!

It was a bright and beautiful Fingerlakes summer day.  The neighbors came over to congratulate us and wish us all well.  They've been keeping an eye on our comings and goings for the last few weeks and admit that every time we're gone for more than a couple hours they wonder if this is it.  Well, it finally was.

We got home in time to watch the Germans send the Italians home.  Emmett slept through the game.  That's alright, I'm counting on him being a swimmer.

It was a long night.  Emmett wants to eat, or at least pacify, pretty much all the time, and announces this desire with abandon.  He also did not like the bassinet we had for him.  The upshot is that he slept between us for most of the night.  After a couple feedings, Sarah got up to take a bath and finished out the morning on the couch.  I slept for 5 minutes at a time, constantly waking up to make sure I hadn't rolled over on him and that he hadn't rolled onto his stomach.  It was oddly magical, and I got up more rested and energized than seems possible.  It's sappy, but I'll say it anyway; I spent most of the night looking at him and falling in love.

Good morning Dad.  Now what about Mama and my breakfast?