Life as we know it...

Jane came home last week, and both she and Vicki are doing just fine. Likewise, Samson is doing a pretty good job adjusting to the big change. He's not crazy about me holding her, and the first few times she nursed he was fairly vocal about not wanting Janie to "put her nose on mommy's belly."

Overall though, so far so good. Some random stories from the past week:

Apparently the standard baby/infant seats (those ubiquitous buckets you see people awkwardly lugging all over town) do not fit in captain-style seats. Our minivan has such seats, which means that Vicki's step-dad spent a lot more time with me in the backseat of our van than anyone should ever have to.

After a mighty struggle, we decided quitting was the smartest thing to do and called up to the hospital room to our respective wives (not without some trepidation) seeking advice. Vicki's mom graciously offered to pick us up the kind of seat we knew would fit, and that was that. Still, I felt like an object lesson on the evils of procrastination there in the parking lot of the hospital (yep, I was that guy; what can I say? Jane came a bit earlier than we expected).

We continue to work on getting the ground rules down with Samson regarding Jane. As in, yes you can touch her arm or kiss her cheek. No, you can not push that train on her sternum. Definitely a work in progress. But he's trying.


It's still early, but Jane is a very different baby from Samson. For one, she sleeps pretty well. She's still figuring out the whole night/day thing, but she doesn't really cry all that much. And she can sleep through just about anything [perhaps she's been hearing the muffled yells and drumming of her brother all this time and so takes it as a matter of course]. But even when she's fussing she never really gets up to Category 5 strength like Sammy Lungs did. This is not to say she's not waking up at night or that we're not tired. She is. And we are. But nothing like the last time around. Sweet Jane.

She does, however, go through an incredible number of diapers in a day. I'm sure I have casually used the term "stinky-poo" at some time in my life. Only now do I truly appreciate the power of that compound noun.

The number of people who ask if we've named our daughter Delilah is surprisingly high. And I can't tell if it's an attempt at humor or if they really think that the pairing (despite the creepy things it would imply) makes sense. Either way, it would be fascinating as a sociological study if it wasn't so annoying.

We have also gotten a lot of "You had a girl? How wonderful. Now you can stop." I get the general idea, namely that people are telling us we have a nice, balanced little family. And I'm ecstatic to have a little girl, just as I was (and remain) ecstatic to have a son.


But to be perfectly honest, having another child is not among the things on my mind not two weeks after the birth of our daughter. I wonder if parents who have a second child that is the same sex as the first get comments like "Too bad you had another girl/boy. Guess you'll have to try again." or "Well, you win some, you lose some."

Perhaps Jim Morrison said it best when he said "people are strange." [Of course, he also said he was the lizard king...]