We are having a little trouble getting used to Lucy's frame of mind. See, she is happy all the time.
All. The. Time.
If she is not sleeping or clamouring for some milk, she is grinning at us and making slurpy coo noises.
We're not complaining. Totally we're not complaining. But it is a little unexpected, considering the horrors the Parenting Experts have been telling us to expect. We have promised ourselves that we will never read a book by a Parenting Expert ever again. Unless it is about setting up a science fair project. Science fairs are the best.
But back to Lucy and her outstanding mood. Consider the following sequence of photos, which was shot over a stretch of 20 minutes and involved many bright lights flashing in Lucy's face.
Yes, that is a lot of the same pose. But holy cow was it ever a fun 20 minutes.
In other news, Lucy's grandparents came for a visit, and spent much of their time making coochie-coochie noises over the pram. Apparently grandparents are like that.
Lucy's sister Clare has been delighted with her new role, which consists of eating all the cake and all the Gummi Bears, on account of the little one is too little for that sort of thing.
Check back again soon for more pictures, won't you? We are now getting about 17 hours of sleep each night, so our energy levels are bound to pick up one of these days.
Hi.
After a long absence, we are back on the internet. We were gone, in part, because the battery in our digital camera went for the high jump. But mostly we were gone because we were slack and not paying attention parenthood is an all-consuming, albeit rewarding, task.
Also, you would totally not believe how much of each day we spend fiddling with the Diaper Genie. The Diaper Genie is a special garbage can designed to keep the stink down. It does this by twisting a segment of garbage bag around each individual used diaper as you drop it in. Inside the Diaper Genie, the segments link together into a chain, which coils and coils and piles ever upward, with all the foul odours locked in by the pinchy twists in the garbage bag.
When it is time to empty the Diaper Genie, you push a button and many warm links of Hell Sausage tumble out the bottom. Ideally this is into a larger garbage can, which is then emptied by the city's skilled sanitation workers, but we are still Diaper Genie amateurs and usually we just drop the links on our own bare feet. We are trying to learn to not do that anymore.
Here is a helpful photo illustration of a Diaper Genie.
Now, we have a lot of photos for you to look at.
Hi. Want to hear what happened yesterday?
OK.
First thing in the morning, Tasha the midwife came over to our house to perform a task midwives like to call "going insane in the membrane."
Basically it is all about breaking the water. It is mostly painless. When it works correctly, a scene from a sitcom breaks out. The pregnant woman begins to moan loudly, the wacky neighbour drops in with a sample batch of his fresh gazpacho and offers to boil water, and the father-to-be pops into the next room to catch the last few innings of the big game on his portable radio.
You will be very interested to hear that we all went to visit Tasha the midwife today, and that she performed an indignity on somebody's privates, with the goal of hastening the blessed event.
A "blessed event" is a birth. That's just one of the many clever euphemisms we expectant parents use to make our dull monologues sound more exciting. Have we told you about our plans for sleeping arrangements? Would you like to discuss "Attachment Parenting" and the debate thereover? Cradle cap! IKEA furniture! Handi-Wipes!
Please do not go. We are about to talk about indignities some more. Holy cow would you ever not want to have that done to your privates.
Hello and welcome.
No, there is no baby yet.
Thanks for your phone calls, though. They are nice and brighten our days, which are getting kind of dull on account of the car seat is all installed and the diaper supplies are all organized and we're all ready to go, except for the star, who is taking her sweet time just like her sister did.
Maybe we're going to have to resort to castor oil.