Erin Says... (Name This Picture)

"'Goo goo ga ga?' Yeah, I got yer goo goo ga ga right here."

She Speaks! ...Well, Sort Of

This morning Erin awoke, grimaced, and with a loud fart filled her diaper. Then, alert and observant, looked at Ashleigh and me and uttered a distinct and speech-like "Murp!"

We have a team of neo-natal linguistic experts researching the possible meanings of this word.

A few minutes later, she spoke again: "Urp!" We're not sure if this is a simple contraction of the previous word "murp", a completely new word all together, or just an improvement on her usual eructations ("come on, I want to hear it from the diaphragm, now!") . Obviously, more data needs to be collected.

Sea Song

[In the car, listening to Franz Ferdinand]

A: Whoah! What was that lyric just now??
B: "I'm on BBC2 now."
(Pause)
A: Oh.
B: Why, what did you think he said?
A: "I'm a baby seal tuna."

Wanted: Information Leading To Discovery Of The Actual Father Of This Child

Our little Erin: red hair, red eyebrows, red back, shoulder, and arm hair. High hair line. A little soft in the middle.

I'm confident that it's not the mail carrier, as the mail carrier is a short, dark-haired man. Nor can it be the milkman, since we, like anyone else born after the advent of refrigeration, get our milk from the store.

I'm guessing we're looking for a hairy-armed Irish mechanic or plumber, heavy-set, somewhere in his mid-forties.

Anyone with information should immediately contact me so that we can clear up and move past this troubling paternity issue.

First Doctor's Visit

Highlights from the first weigh-in at the doctor's yesterday:

Lil' E is up from her birth weight of 8 lbs 2 oz to a whopping 8 lb 9 oz at just under one week of age. The standard is to be back at birth weight by 2 weeks. Apparently milk supply and feeding is going well. We were given instruction to let her sleep through the 3-hour-between-feeding standard, much to our relief last night.


After the nurse weighed Erin, she left the exam room to go get the pediatrician, leaving us with Erin on the scale. But before the doctor arrived, the cold of the scale on her little birthday-suit-only self was too much and she proceeded to gush and squirt both #1 and #2, respectively, all over the scale. This made us think we might want to build an ark. This display made both mom and dad clutch their sides in laughter. (Seriously, someone let us be parents?) The weight, once baby removed: 2 oz. Wow.

Overall, the doctor said she looks great, but we already knew that. :)

Photos From Grandpa and Grandma McFeely

If you haven't yet found that perfect shot for the framed 16x20 you're planning on putting over the fireplace, you can find some great shots from Grandpa and Grandma McFeely here.

I mean, look at that face -- seriously, she's adorable, yeah?

Christie, Darren, and Henry

We were able to make some new friends during out stay in the hospital: my co-worker Darren and his wife Christie delivered their son Henry while we were there.

Henry is both adorable and handsome, and Darren and Christie looked great. Check out their great blog at http://darrenandchristie.blogspot.com.


*Not pictured: Darren (he was busy snapping photos with me)

Birth Photos

Photos! Git yer photos! Find them here.

The Beverage Formerly Known As Wine

Me to Ash last night: "I don't know why they call this stuff 'wine'. They should instead call it 'perspective'."

Today's Double Feature: A Devious Mastermind/Too Much Milk

Our first movie, "A Devious Mastermind", concerns a nefarious little creature, who, using about the only powers available to her, during each of the three nightly diaper changes, waits until her poop-filled diaper is off for her to pee alllll over the place, somewhat reminiscent of the Trevi Fountain. All over the new diaper, all down back towards her stomach, soaking her onesie and the changing table cloth. It's quite beautiful at night, and I'd recommend taking a loved one when you go see it.

Speaking of fountains, this brings us to our next and final feature, "Too Much Milk". This film explores boobs at their extreme, at their very limit of fullness. In it, Mother McMiller stars as the large-breasted Earth Momma, bringing milk to the world, whether there's a baby in front of her or not. This film may be inappropriate for infants and small children, who may be unable to grasp the full heft of the film, and may need assistance in encompassing and digesting this film's important subject matter.

Cable!

This is classic. As of 2pm today, now have basic cable. This of course means we're essentially paying $13 a month for what comes for free over the airwaves. However, the truly amusing thing is that Ashleigh and I almost jumped up and down to see that that Simpsons comes in crystal clear. I mean, a baby and clear reception?! We're in hog heaven.

We're shopping around for a DVR, so if you've got a suggestion, we'd love to hear it.

On the baby front, we've settled into a good routine with Erin. We're currently writing up our labor and delivery story, and uploading baby pics, which we'll have posted by Saturday night.


Oh, and of course, with Basic Cable, you get a little somethin' extra. We now get the Discovery Channel (yay!), QVC (wtf?), and, my all-time favorite, Public Access. I almost wet my pants when we flipped the channel to it and saw this --->

When the pot show actually started, the host spoke for about 15 seconds before some tech finally figured out that there was no sound. Excellent.

Home!

We arrived home yesterday.

We had some excitement trying to get Erin in the car seat while it was still in the car (rookie mistake, I'm told), with a cold wind blowing outside, the car parked in the "no parking" spot outside the hopsital, Ash and I in the back seat trying to both (a) juggle Erin, and (b) remember how to adjust the seat. Really, we should have had the instructions tattooed on our forearms.

We then headed home. What a great feeling. We feel like we are finally able to relax, finally able to allow all the emotions that come with having a baby to sink in.

The grandparents were there to watch Erin, allowing Ash and I to take a much-needed nap. Then, after having a pizza and champagne dinner party with the grandfolks, the three of us managed to have a great night's sleep.

Last night's schedule is something like: one hour of changing/feeding/burping, followed by two hours of sleep. I had 6.5 hours of sleep, Ash had 5. That's more than twice the sleep we've had any night since last Saturday. Let's hope this rhythm lasts.

We've got some good movies rented, the cable guy is en route to hook us up, and the weather outside is stormy: perfect for book reading on the couch. A calm, quiet day: much needed.

Comedy Central, How I Love Thee

We're scheduled to head home from the hospital Thursday morning. Seeing as how Erin slept all day again and wouldn't feed after noon, we'll probably have another, um, exciting night of hourly feedings. Good thing she's so cute.

Luckily we've just discovered the magic of cable TV, and have already watched both the Colbert Report and South Park. So, although we're likely going to be up all night, it's nice to have a non-baby distraction (no offense, Erin). And, thanks to our parents watching Erin in two shifts today, Ashleigh and I were able to get two big naps in, so bring on the crying. Bring it!

Gotta go, The Daily Show is on...

Erin Beatrix Miller McFeely

Erin Beatrix Miller McFeely was born October 15th, 2007, at 5:44pm. She was 8 pounds, 2 ounces, and 21 inches long.

Ash and Erin are doing amazingly well, and both look great. We are a little weary from 28 hours of labor, a C-section, and little sleep, but we're feeling good and are in good spirits.

More soon.

I've Gotta Be Able To Move Like A Cheetah

The Portland Marathon was this morning. My folks, Ashleigh, and the Brinkleys came out to root me on. It was great.

The race itself was pretty much a slog -- I did the first 10k at an 8:00/mile pace (recommended by calculators based on previous race times from shorter races), but ended up doing the last 10k at a 9:30/mile pace, with each mile in between pretty much slower and harder than the last. The marathon basically said to me "Show me some !$!@# RESPECT!" I guess I should have gone into it with a little more humility ;) I still ended up with a great time: 3:46:11. I feel really proud.

Then, after the race, Ashleigh made HUGE breakfast: strata, fruit, pastries (provided by Mary), coffee, and of course mimosas, and our friends came over to enjoy. Oh, and did I mention sausage balls? Ashleigh makes great balls. It was a really fun cap to a big morning.

Overdue

As Ash has said: the kitties are cute and snuggly now that the weather's turned, the house is clean from getting ready for the new critter, and we get to nap a lot, so it's not all bad.

Burgundy to the Rescue

The bags are packed, the house is clean, the lab bench is tidied, now we just wait. For those who are curious, there have been signs of progress - a long stretch of contractions (Braxton-Hicks) on Sunday, some real ones last night, and some other, um, symptoms involving interesting trips to the restroom. But we're still waiting.

We've rented a movie only to be watched when things start heating up - good distraction tactics. The selected film is the 2004 insta-classic "Anchorman; the Legend of Ron Burgundy." This film is in the top 10 for Ms. A, however both Metacritic.com and Rottentomatoes.com weigh in with a consensus rating of 63% and 64% respectively. While consistent, these ratings seem to lack a serious reflection and appreciation of the master comedic craft exhibited in this piece. Seriously, folks, if you haven't seen this movie, or if much time has passed since you have, Ms. A strongly encourages you to
pick up a copy, pop up some popcorn (for health's sake not microwave) and enjoy.

Brian, giggling to himself on our ride to work this morning, talking about the scene where Ron is talking with his dog Baxter: "Come again? You know I don't speak Spanish."

In conclusion, we're ready for the little critter whenever she's ready. We continue to monitor each Braxton-Hicks contraction, which have been happening about every twenty minutes since Saturday night. Each contraction causes us to wonder, "will the next one turn into the real thing?"

Stay classy, readers.