Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Drum roll please . . .


I present to you, Lincoln Patrick. 7lb 9oz.


Megan, Paul and Lincoln are doing just fine on their first night as a family.

Me? I'm over the moon and exhausted. And I did none of the heavy lifting today. I'm off to sleep and dream happy dreams about being an Aunt.

p.s. He doesn't look like a Barold. Good thing they named him Lincoln.

p.p.s. Go call your Mom. And your Dad. And siblings, if you have them. Family is a blessed thing.


Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Happy 2008!

I hope everyone had a happy and healthy holiday season. And I do, truly, mean healthy. It's not something to be taken for granted. I found myself wishing for health for the tiniest member of our family as the clock struck midnight this year. Baby Hazel has her angioplasty procedure next week. Just keep her in your thoughts. She's facing an uphill battle. Luckily she's got a lot of people that want to help her fight.

Megan is still pregnant. I understand that her due date is January 6th, but she's ready to be un-pregnant. Like, yesterday. Or the day (week) before that. Apparently this child will be stubborn. If it was a helpful, polite child, it would have decided to come early. That would make Megan, Paul and all of us happy. But no. The child apparently feels that it has a lease on Megan's womb for nine months and it's not about to vacate early. I can see the Baby in there, arms crossed in defiance, muttering, "Incubation for a human is nine months people. This isn't news. I'll emerge when I'm supposed to. Cope."

On the Baby Assad name front: The family was throwing around names the other night -- rare, random, obscure, sometimes ridiculous names -- and my Dad called out "Barry". Megan wrinkled her nose and asked if Barry was short for something. She said, "Harry can be short for Harold. Is Barry short for something . . . like Barold?" All of us laughed until we were practically crying.

What a glorious idea! I shall call this child Barold!!! I don't even care if it's a boy or a girl. My nephew/niece needs to be called Barold. So Dad and I have come to call the unborn baby, Barold. And this is what the child shall continue to be called until he or she decides to join us and get a proper name.

You don't like it Barold??? You don't like that name???

Then get out here, let us determine your sex, and we'll give you a different name!!! Until then, I don't want to hear it!

(At this point I'm hoping that picking a fight with the unborn will make him/her want to show up early.)


(Bring it, Barold.)