Saturday, February 28, 2009

Elizabeth Jane

Contractions start at 2 am, stop, then start again at 7 am. They are irregular (4-12 minute intervals) and short (~20 seconds.) Mimi's online search suggests this is not the real thing. On the other hand, the mucus plug went the day before. She calls to get the doctor paged, and it takes over an hour and a second page to get this response: if you think you're in labor, come in and we'll get this thing done, since I'd rather do it now than at 3 am. After my dad arrives to watch the kids, we head off to the hospital in the late morning (~11 am?). It is cold, in the 20s. Mimi tells me to take Detroit, not Parkdale (too bumpy), and since I'm underslept, I immediately and instinctively start to take Parkdale until Mimi stops me. As we approach 13 Mile, the low fuel warning goes on. Half-convinced we're going to get sent home from the hospital anyway and certainly in no danger of a car birth, we stop and get gas. At Beaumont, I pull into the South Deck and make two circuits around level 2, but Mimi thinks the second circuit is level 3. At registration, there is much confusion over whether Mimi is a Morris, a Kim, or a Morris-Kim. On reasons for visit, Mimi checks off, "Baby not moving as much as usual" under the impression that this was an either/or question (with the other option being, "Baby not moving.") In waiting, we read the Free Press -- the mayor of Romulus, spurned by George Clooney, tries to arrange to have him pulled over for speeding. In triage, the resident finds Mimi 2 cm dilated and 100% effaced, so it's a go. We make a command decision to forgo tubal ligation. Mimi decides that Doris Kearns Goodwin will be too tough afterwards and asks me to get Duma Key when I go home later for the boys. I run back to the car to get the camera, am told by the resident that cameras are technically forbidden in the OR but bring it anyway. 1:40 pm. 8 lbs 5 ozs. 19 in. When it's over we go to recovery where there is momentary uncertainty over "Elizabeth" vs "Elisabeth" and I flaunt my hospital knowhow by turning off the piped music. We go to our room, 6327. I flash my employee ID at the nurse in order to convince her I can help transfer Mimi from the stretcher to the bed. I leave to get the boys and find the house a disaster area. Stephen has emptied the toy chest (apparently so that he could hide inside it). After rejecting a couple of other dinner options, we end up at go-eat, which my mom isn't sure is celebratory enough. Kids are pretty great in visit despite our paranoid insistence they use antibacterial hand foam every few minutes. They enjoy raiding the pantry for popsicles and holding Elizabeth (at which point I realize I left the camera at home). Arthur insists he won the birthday prediction bet exactly (he actually guessed tomorrow, but he's still closest), so we are to stop at Kroger to buy popsicles. We bring home Elizabeth's footprint card to compare to Arthur and Stephen's. On our way out, we go by the nursery, but there are no babies there. I explain to the boys that the babies are only there when their mommies are asleep, and so the mommies must be all awake right now. We get home. Arthur poos. I have to auger the toilet. Basement is flooded. At bedtime, we read Icky Sticky Frog and Caps for Sale.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Vow of Silence

This evening, inspired by the Magic Flute, Arthur said he would take a vow of silence for a week. Failing that after about 5 seconds, he then tried for the rest of the day. Eventually, we convinced him to try to keep quiet for about 3 minutes, which he managed after a couple false starts.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Science and Religion Reconciled

"There was no God when the dinosaurs were alive." -- Stephen

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Finding Mr. Right

"I don't know why you would marry Daddy if he doesn't do what you say" -- Arthur to Mimi

Tact

This has happened more than once recently with different people (e.g., the librarian). Stephen says, in too full earshot of the person in question, that so-and-so is fat. Arthur replies, also very much in too full earshot, that so-and-so *is* fat, but you shouldn't say so, because it'll make them feel bad. Considerate. And mortifying.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Deer hunting

Our kids wanted to know if they could go after having Bambi read to them.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009