In The Crib

Hylton has really been a good baby so far. The first night home from the hospital is always a bummer so I don't count that one, but the last two nights have been great. He sleeps well (last night he woke up only once) and eats well and seems happy most of the time- what more could you ask for?

When I went to get Hylton out of his crib after one of his naps today this is what I found:

His hat had worked it's way down over his little head and he just looked so cute with his arms up over his head and looking for all the world like a tiny Thug chillin' in his "crib."

Fashionably Late

I'm choosing to think that my new baby just likes to be fashionably late rather than stubborn. I was holding out hopes that he would decide to come early Friday morning rather than get induced out. Guess he had other plans.

When all was said and done though, the induction wasn't as fear inducing as I thought it was going to be - I even got a full night's sleep! We showed up at the hospital just before 8am, they had me hooked up to the Pitocin by 8:20am, and Hylton was born at 12:30pm. I really don't think it could have been a better experience - considering that we're still talking about labor and childbirth...

Still Waiting...

Despite all my convictions that Hylton would arrive early- or at least on time- he has decided to wait until he is physically removed from the womb. Sterling was 4 days late (I went into labor the morning of the scheduled induction) and Evie was 1 day late, so I thought perhaps being the third, Hylton would just sort of "drop out" early. I've been telling (read: razzing, nagging, accusing, etc) Doug that it is just characteristic of Church boys to be a little slow to develop, or unable to make so permanent a decision under pressure. I figure he needs to be involved in the misery somehow since he can't experience the miraculous joy that is pregnancy.

So here I am yesterday afternoon letting the kids burn off some steam outside. This picture is just classic: I'm ginormously pregnant, lounging as comfortably as I can in a chair, reading my feel-good romance novel, looking extra-special pissed off (Doug has another, less savory term for this), while Sterling hides behind the chair. My clothes don't even match, mostly because they are the only ones that fit comfortably right now (meaning able to completely cover my ample proportions so I don't look like a pregnant Britney Spears or some white trash mom at Walmart ....I guess that is redundant...) and partly because I just don't care!





Anyway, enough complaining! Here are the kids (and a 6 foot man) being cute in the pool, and a couple pictures of my lovely tomatoes.

False Alarm

I chickened out of getting induced this week. I just didn't feel "quite right" about it, so I called the doctor yesterday to push it back a week. I feel more comfortable with it being a few days after my due date rather than a few days before- especially when it's not medically necessary and just for our convenience. I mentioned this to a friend yesterday and she said, "Well you must be feeling pretty good then!" I wasn't sure what to say to that... "I'm carrying around 50 extra pounds in August! I'm hot and puffy, and sometimes it feels like the baby is trying to claw his way out..."? I didn't think that would go over well, so I just said the usual: "Yeah, we're doing all right..."