I'm not going to post a picture of what I look like now. Let's just say the only pants I fit into start with a P and end with a J, and I'm lucky to find time to brush my teeth.
I had a baby last Tuesday.
I would have looked more excited but I was busy trying to remember my first name and I had a major headache in this picture. I blame the anesthesiologist.
I'm happy to introduce the amazing, adorable, absolutely wonderful little person that goes by the name of Tobin.
Q sings him songs with lyrics like, "Rock a bye BABY in the tree TALK!".
Shel is always asking about "Baby Tobin" and wanting to pat him on the head.
The boys both love to hold, kiss and touch him.
Too bad Shel seems to have pink eye. And a stomach virus. And a UTI infection. Obviously we are going to drag him off to the Dr. first thing tomorrow. Gah.
The day after I escaped from the hospital, I had to go back to the Children's hospital with Tobin.
He was yellow with a capital J which stands for Jaundice (ha. That's "just had a baby" humor for you. If you wake yourself up every three hours in the night, and then read that joke again, I promise you'll laugh. You just need to sleep less).
I cried at the Children's Hospital. Tobin, on the other hand, thought it was a day at the beach:
He sprawled himself out and relaxed in a plastic box while his mother slept on a plastic couch. I found out at 2:30 in the morning that it was actually a PULL OUT couch. By the end of the night I was laughing and taking delirious pictures like the one above and laughing because, geesh, that is one funny picture (if you don't think it's funny, get less sleep).
Having babies is a strange sort of chaos. There's a lot of sitting and holding and nursing, and a lot of sleeping, and a lot of pain medication, and Doctor appointments. There's a lot of balancing and falling off and balancing again.
There are two older boys who have managed to find themselves a virus to potentially share with the group. The boys run around, and fall down, and need hugs right when the baby is eating. There are not enough arms, or enough toilets, or enough minutes, or enough burp clothes.
But in the chaos, and the pajama clad days, there is a joy in knowing that the "not enough" is more than enough.
When your cup overflows it gets messy...but I'm still so glad that mine is overflowing.
I would like to say THANK YOU to everyone who prayed for us, and is praying for us. To all our friends who are bringing us meals and visiting our baby, to our family who has been such a support, and my mom who has put up with us and cleaned up after us for the past few days. You all make the crazy adventure of Three Boys possible. I love you all.
Also? My husband is up for Husband of the Year. I think he should win, please vote for him! Just kidding! There's not a vote button. What am I talking about? I don't know. It was a blogger joke.
All I know is that he waited for twenty minutes for the people at the Chocolate Shop to make a carmel and chocolate apple for me, because they were out. When he brought it to me at the hospital and realized they hadn't pre-sliced it, he cut it with a butter knife. That, my friends, is a good man.
