Merry Christmas!

The coffee has been drunk and the cinnamon rolls eaten.  We've checked our stockings and opened all the presents.  We even feasted on roast beast.  All that's left now is the BEST part of Christmas... spending time relaxing together as a family .

Happy Christmas Eve Everyone!

Be sure to spend some time with Him this evening, remembering the true meaning of the holiday.  I hope you all have a blessed, holy night.

Made it

After two and a half very long days in the car, we have arrived safely and are settling in at Matt's parents' house.  Brrr!  It sure is cold and snowy.

The Arch

This is a terrible picture, but St. Louis means we are almost home!

Yummy!

There are certain advantages to driving across the country... particularly when you have to pass through some of Texas.

Good Morning from New Mexico!

Our 2010 Christmas Card

I had every intention of scanning one of my Christmas cards to post here, but of course I got insanely busy today trying to pack for our trip home tomorrow between nursing A.J. for literally HOURS at a time, so of course I never got around to it.  Instead, this low quality version will have to do... it's cut and pasted from the confirmation email Shutterfly sent me when I ordered them, but you get the general idea:

I'm not sure when I'll be back to post again, so until then, I hope all of you out in Internet-land have a wonderful Holiday season and may God Bless you all.

Graduation Day

Yesterday morning was very exciting as it was Matt's "Commencement Exercise." 

Yes you read that right, and yes, that is what the Naval Postgraduate School calls it's graduation ceremony.  Seriously.  How very military of them.  I told Matt that I was actually surprised they hadn't called the Rehearsal the day before a Drill, because it would have really driven the point home. 

I'm all on a tangent aren't I?

Anyway, first thing in the morning I showered and got dressed then got A.J. up, and fed and changed her into a nice little outfit.  Doesn't she look cute?

 
Then she laid around and screamed at me periodically while Matt and I struggled to get Peter fed and dressed as well.  He was going next door to hang out with our neighbors and their daughter though, as I don't think there is really any way on Earth I would be able to get through a ceremony with the two of them to tend to. 

After we dropped Peter off and got to the hall, Matt went to line up with the other graduates and I settled down into my seat with A.J. passed out in her car seat-carrier next to Matt's thesis partner's girlfriend and little brother. 

A.J. did her part by staying nicely quiet and asleep while we waited around for things to get going, and also while the graduates marched in.  That was actually completely hilarious to me.  The band was playing this march that seriously sounded like it ought to have been the theme song for Hogan's Heroes (but wasn't) and they all (civilian and military personnel alike) marched in and down the aisles to their seats following the lead of a couple of Marines in FULL dressy garb which included their swords.  (Any time they bust out the swords I find it sort of funny.)

Then all the professors came in wearing their funny hats and brightly colored collars and their black Hogwarts robes and, well, let's just admit it here people, college professors tend to be an odd sort of bunch anyway.

Finally the honorary heads and guests arrived (like the Admiral Somebody or other who was the guest speaker) and they all marched proudly up onto the stage and took their seats.

Somewhere in there, I ran over and got a picture of my graduate.

Who was SUPPOSED to be standing at attention.

(He never takes anything seriously...)

So next in marched the color guard and then somebody sang the national anthem.  This was followed by a chaplain and his opening prayer.  Unfortuanately, at that point, A.J. woke up and started to scream so I took her out to the bathroom to change her diaper. 

When I got back, the Admiral was just beginning his speech. 

I was busy nursing my baby, but so far as I could tell, he kept it f-a-i-r-l-y short and his points about how the military has changed in the 20 odd years since he finished at NPS and the importance of the education everyone had received there were valid and somewhat interesting. 

By the time he was finished and they started introducing graduates (starting first with the few PhD candidates) my girl was sound asleep.  However, people kept clapping and were really upsetting her so BOY was I pleased when they moved on to the masters degrees and the speaker asked everyone to hold their applause until the end.

Matt's program, the MBAs was last.  First they went through a hundred odd graduates with majors in things like "Security Studies," "Physical Oceanography," and "Modeling, Virtual Environments and Simulation" that I can not even begin to comprehend.  This mostly made me glad Matt had been working on his MBA where I could at least wrap my mind around the business topics he was studying, even though I fouond them to be mind numbingly boring. 

Finally, they got to Matt's program and they asked all the MBA candidates to stand.

And eventually, my guy was up...

This ones blurry, because I didn't have my good camera.

This one from the website is better though:

And, then, just as we were thinking we'd be there forever, the ceremony was over and Matt was coming to get us and head home. 

There was a reception afterward, that might have been nice to attend, but Peter had already been at the neighbors for over 3 hours and I was nervous that he might have detroyed their house by then.

However, as we were walking to the car I received a couple of text message from Katherine (the neighbor) including the following two photos.

Apparently, they were all at the park.
Matt and I went to the park to meet them, but they had left already.  Instead, we found them just up the street on their way home.

I especially enjoy the fact that Peter is wearing Dan our neighbor's hat (because we didn't send one with him) and is walking their dog (with Dan's help.)

I'm glad to know he had fun while we were all gone.  Certainly more fun than he would have had at the ceremony.  I'm so thankful for our wonderful neighbors!  I'm also so thankful that Matt his finished with his MBA.

Well, except the thesis.  That is in the editing process.  Lucky we extended here for a few more months....

A.J.'s First Bath

Tonight we gave A.J. her first bath.  I just couldn't put it off any longer.  She's 17 days old already and the last bath she had was only a few hours after she was born.  Her belly button stump is long gone and has been for many days now.  But, I confess, I've been hesitant to start bathing her because when I started bathing Peter his skin dried out a great deal, bringing out a raging case of baby acne, and his entire body started to peel.  (The pediatrician had actually warned about that.)  Plus, he got cradel cap pretty bad and in scrubbing to try to get rid of that, I made most of his newborn brown hair fall out. 

By the time we started giving him regular nightly baths, he looked like a completely different child!

And I don't feel ready to say goodbye to A.J.'s newborn looks just yet.  Her brother "grew up" and became a toddler way too fast, so I'm trying cherish things more with this one. 

At any rate, tomorrow is Matt's graduation ceremony and, lest some important navy Big Wig want to meet our newest arrival, the smell of stale breast milk and the random compiled dirt in her baby skin rools NEEDED to go.

Anyway, here are some pictures of the event itself. 

She was not happy when we first put her in

Matt sprinkled the water on her and she calmed down

She actually seemed to like getting washed

and even seemed to relax a bit after he was done.

So then she was all unhappy again when we pulled her out of the tub

Until we got her warmly swaddled in her hooded towel

So sweet

And still so small!

Love those tiny toes too!!!

Boys versus Girls

Peter is almost 18 months old.  He walks and runs ALL the time and loves to play outside whenever possible, regardless of the weather thus requiring him to have good sturdy shoes to protect his feet.
These are the shoes he currently owns:

Admittedly, 5 pairs of shoes for one little boy is a lot, but his Mama has neurotic fashion rules about mixing blacks and browns and insists that his shoes match his outfit when he's dressed nice-- like for church.  Also, that pair of sneakers on the bottom right never stayed on his feet which resulted in us buying the Nikes on the bottom left or otherwise he certainly wouldn't own 2 pairs of play shoes.



On the other hand, A.J. was two weeks old yesterday.  Her feet are tiny and always cold so I keep them snuggled inside a pair of warm socks and footie pajamas whenever possible.  She certainly has no need for shoes yet, and will not for many, many months to come.  However, here are the shoes she currently owns... um, already:

Isn't it just like a girl to have so many useless accessories simply because they are cute?

Also, I would like to add, in my own defense, that I did not purchase ANY of these.  All of them were gifts or hand-me-downs. 

Not that it would matter.  Certainly EVERY little girl needs a pair of Ugg boots, a pair of black patent Mary Janes, 2 pairs of house shoes (including BUNNY SLIPPERS) and 2 pairs of  cute sneakers. 

I mean, OBVIOUSLY!

Daddy/Daughter Time

Last week some time, I went out to run some errands.  How strange it is to me now that I could not, for all the tea in China, tell you where I went, but I do know that I took Matt's mother with me, leaving Matt home with both kids.  I had hoped this would be no big deal as Peter was napping in his bed and A.J. was soundly asleep in her bouncy chair when we left. 

We weren't gone very long.

However, upon my return home, this is what I found:

Apparently, A.J. decided to cry pretty much the moment I left.  (I guess she does that.  Like, even if I just leave the room, she'll go from sweetly sleeping to fussing and crying immediately when I leave, which mostly makes me wonder how on Earth she even knows I'm gone.)  Matt said he had held her for while and tried to continue doing his homework, but that she had still been pretty unhappy until he went and got out the play mat for her. 

Anyway, I decided to upload this picture this morning because it is Monday morning, well before 8 oclock and I am quite tired as a certain little lady decided to scream for a good hour at bedtime last night (she was gassy!!) and then needed to get up and be fed EXACTLY every 2 hours.  Nevermind the fact that she slept for several 4 hour stretches yesterDAY. 

So looking at her being all cute with her Daddy is helping me to forget about how tired I feel right now.

Not that I should complain, we're at the start of her 14th day of life and this was only the first time I had to get up more than twice to feed her at night. 

Also, Matt is done with school... like everything but his Thesis/Project, and he graduates this week.  We should, actually, be moving right after but we extended here for a few months.  So it's good that we're not trying to move again, with a new baby and the holidays and all that.  And this means he will be home a lot over the next few weeks and months, which is, in a word, AWESOME.

Peter's Tricycle

For Christmas this year, Peter's Gramma and Grandpa decided to get him a tricycle.  Since they live in Ohio, they asked me to pick one out online and then they had it shipped here.  So last week, while Gramma was out here taking care of Peter while I was in the hospital and helping with the new baby, we decided he should get the his gift now so that his Gramma could see him enjoy it.

Unfortunately, I failed to read about the measurements of the trike I picked out, so it is still far too large for him to ride by himself, even with the peddle blocks we rigged up.  Regardless, he still seems to love it and is constantly climbing up onto the seat so that one of us can push him around on it. 

Oh, but of course, safety comes first, so we can't forget his helmet.  :)

Thank you Gramma and Grandpa!!!

Holiday Baking

While Matt's mother was in town for the last two weeks, she made it her goal to (help me) get my holiday baking done.  And by "help me," I mean she very nearly did ALL the work.

It's funny actually, because my holiday baking tends to ebb and flow.  Some years I will go insane and make dozens and dozens of cookies in dozens of varieties.  Other years, I get busy or bogged down and I make literally nothing. 

Anyway, with her help, I find that I have all the baking completed weeks ahead of time and I have more completed than ever before.

The strange part, is that with all the baking she did, I ended up with zero pictures of her in the kitchen at work. 

This is probably because I was far too busy taking silly pictures of my children with her help.  Well, that, and icing my sugar cookies... but we'll get to that in a second.

Peter made it his main mission to taste test a lot of the ingredients (especially the chocolate chips)
as well as the finished cookies.  Here he is with the evidence all over his face.

A.J. did her part, mainly, by sitting quietly or napping in the bouncy chair on the counter and allowing us the time to work.  Of course, she needed some flour to decorate her nose in order to feel included.

Then Gramma started to get sort of silly and decided that A.J. needed to help in a more hands on way.
So naturally, here she is with the cookie dough scoop and the rolling pin.

She held on to them for a while while I worked on the sugar cookie cut outs.

So of course the next day she had to help me as I iced those sugar cookies.

I tend to get a bit obsessed with icing my sugar cookies and making them all perfect.

Later on, after I finally finished with the icing, she even helped Gramma with the brownie batter. 
Seems like she was unhappy about this...

In the end, I had a counter top full of beautiful and delicious cookies.  I can't wait to start eating them all.

Tummy Time

This afternoon, after while Matt was feeding Peter his lunch, I got down on the floor with A.J. for some tummy time.  She was less than excited:

Peter, however, was very interested.  As soon as he was finished eating he got down on the floor next to her.

Then he lifted up his head, perhaps showing her how it's done.

And then he loved on her some. 

So sweet.  I think I cried a little.

I keep doing that. 

Hopefully it's still just the post- pregnancy hormones, perhaps combined with the wonder of the holiday season.

Then again, I am so blessed.  God has given me a wonderful husband and has charged us with the care of two beautiful and awesome children.  So what if this fills my heart with so much joy that it makes me weep?

Sibling Rivalry?

This evening A.J.'s belly button stump fell off. 

*sniff*

(and also, Ew, just a little bit.)

Her Gramma was changing her clothes this evening and she called me to come over and see the "present" my daughter had for me.

Now her little tummy looks funny to me without the stump hanging there.

*sniff sniff*

She is only 10 days old!!!

Peter's belly button stump, or the majority of it anyway, fell off on the 16th day.  I remember this very very clearly because I had him laid out in the back of my Audi as I was changing his diaper in the parking lot of Whole Foods.  Matt's parents had come in the night before and that morning I'd had my 2 week surgical incision check with my doc after which we'd all gone to Whole Foods to pick up lunch.  When the little scab fell to the ground in that parking lot I was so shocked and I stood there looking at it sadly wondering if I should pick it up or just leave it there. 

(My goodness I'm getting all teary eyed just thinking about it all over again...)

Anyway, I know I posted about it back then, but I suddenly felt that my little 2 week old baby was no longer a newborn. 

So, okay, now A.J. goes and has hers fall of SIX days sooner. 

And now I feel like my newborn is gone again.

Is she trying to break my heart?

Also, is she, like, ALREADY trying to out do her brother?

Is this supposed to be some sort of a competition?

Then again, maybe I was just a short 15 months behind my own older brother and I tended to MAKE everything into a competition, so maybe that's why I'm reading so much into this.


Why are all my babies in such a gigantic hurry to grow up?


Anyway, so after she was all changed, Matt's Mom gave her back to me as she was WIDE awake.  She laid there beside me, propped up on our boppy pillow and was looking around and moving her arms and suddenly it hit me just how much she's grown and changed already.  My little newborn daughter of last week has already grown out out of it.

And while I'm thrilled that she seems to be doing so very well....

And I can find some comfort in her still tiny-- like absolutely teeny-- I mean, seriously a few dozen times smaller that her brother's ever were-- little hands and feet....

She's just growing and changing so fast.

These first few weeks of her life, each moment is so fleeting.

I just wish it would all slow down, if on for a moment, so maybe I could at least catch my breath.

The one where I find myself defending Ms. Heidi Klum

I'm probably going to make some enemies with this post.

And let me just say, before I even begin, that I NEVER, not in ten billion years thought I'd ever be able to post something like this.

Ahem.

ONE (of the many, many) reasons Matt and I waited so long to have children was my horrible fear of getting stretch marks.  Along those same lines, I dreaded carrying around a flabby midsection for the rest of my life post-partum.  Yes, that sounds selfish, but that was how I felt.  And before I go any further let me just remind everyone, that a skinny, flat stomach was absolutely not something I enjoyed in my younger years. 

Any fat on my body always clung to my midsection first.  I could go on about this, but let me get to the point.

Which is to say, that after Peter was born, I happily found that pregnancy and nursing and drinking HUMONGOUS amounts of water (because nursing just makes me feel thirsty) turned out to be the best diet ever!  My tummy never looked better!  And I only had one teeny little stretch mark to show for my efforts.

You know, in addition to my wonderful kid...

SWEET!

But then I got pregnant all over again and EVERYONE on the planet assured me that any hopes for ever seeing any signs of my abdominal muscles again were totally lost.  Apparently, you only get that lucky once.

However, the second time around there were a few things working in my favor.  I'd been almost 10 pounds lighter when I conceived.  I also was carrying a little girl, who seemed to take great delight in causing me to hurl back up everything I dared to eat for several of those first pregnant months.  I had Peter to chase around, and if somebody knows a better way to burn calories that trying to keep an overly motivated one year old out of trouble, well, I'd love to hear it. 

So with my first pregnancy I gained roughly 35 pounds or so.

The second time, my Doc took great pleasure in informing me just moments prior to delivering the baby,  gained a grand total of 23 pounds... and 8 pounds 7 ounces of that were A.J.

Awesome!

I'm sure getting sick, twice, with massively nasty stomach bugs helped a little with that.

But my point here, is that other than walking my dog almost every day, and chasing after my son I don't exercise.  I do *try* to eat healthy, but Mama has a great love of all things carb loaded and sweet, so don't kid yourself... I'm not on any kind of a diet. 

I do drink a LOT of water.  And I don't exactly lay around all day trying to recover.... which by the way I highly recommend, because really who wants to be, like, bed ridden?

However, this morning, just 10 days after giving birth to my daughter this is what I saw looking back at me in the bathroom mirror...

HOLY CRAP!

When did that happen?

HOW did that happen?

I got on the scale.  I am now (already) right around the weight I was at my first prenatal appointment last May!

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIRD!!!

I mean, there's still a ways to go if I want a 6 pack, but I'm absolutely certain that I was at least this big prior to ever having children that last summer when Matt was on deployment.  (Probably because of the many trips out for mexican food and cheeseburgers I kept making.)

Seriously, though... if I can loose all the weight in 10 days, and I have no exercise regime to speak of, well, then I think I must just be very, very, VERY blessed with some excellent DNA.  From, um, somewhere.  (Skinny is not a word I would have used to describe my mother.  Fat isn't either, but she definitely was not skinny.)

So, blog readers of the internet world, this all makes me think back to a few years ago when a short couple of months after delivering her second child (I think) Heidi Klum shocked and awed the world by appearing in the Victoria's Secret Fashion show and looking FABULOUS!!!!

She's a SUPER MODEL.  She had, I'm sure, an entire team of trainers and specialists who were in charge of ensuring that she got skinny again.  

But I am certainly NOT a model... super, or otherwise.  And I do not have trainer.  Heck, I don't even know where my gym  shoes ARE right now. 

If I can look like this (NOT that I even compare to her beauty) after only 10 days, well, then no wonder Heidi could. 

Christmas Happenings

Last Saturday, despite the fact that A.J. was only in her 5th day of life outside of my body, we decided to head off to the mall to take care of some important business.  A certain little boy I know needed meet with Mr. Claus to discuss the wishes of him and his new (although probably unwanted) baby sister this holiday season. 

Peter was a bit scared by the man himself but, true to form, he did not panic, he merely remained calm and looked to us for reassurance.  A.J. slept soundly in her car seat (bundles up well against the drizzling rain) until we got into Santa's cottage, then she slept happily nestled on the soft fur of Santa's coat while we took the photos and shared wishes.  She also took the record for the youngest baby they had seen yet. 

Of course, roughly 2 minutes after this photo was snapped Peter was running around in the rain with his Daddy trying like heck to jump (or fall?) into the fountain and A.J. was screaming about going back into her car seat.

Eventually, we got everyone gathered up and we headed off toward our other errand at the mall.  On the way, a nice man made Peter a balloon animal.

 It was supposed to be a ladybug.  And it fit nicely onto Peter's little wrist after Gramma showed him how it was done.  Except then he kept trying to bite it and we had to take it away.

Before long we were at the toy store.  Matt went inside to find a nice gift to donate to Toys for Tots while I kept Peter entertained outside the shop by pointing out the animal figurines in the shop's window.

Both Matt and I feel it is very important to teach our children about GIVING during the Christmas season.  We already did two boxes for Operation Christmas Child, but it also seems important to remember to give to charities that work locally as well.  Plus, Toys for Tots is run by the Marines, and although I may be partial to those cute sailor boys in white, you really can't argue with the Marine Corps uniforms.  HOW YOU DOIN?  Ha!  No, really... really was I? 

Matt (I'm going to give credit here where it is due) thought it would be a good idea to combine Santa, which let's face it has a bit of a "Gimme gimme!!" feel to it, with donating a toy.

So of course, here we are giving our donation to the nice little Marine who was there, "standing guard" over the collection bins. 

Matt made fun of him for smiling.  Something about how Marines are supposed too tough for such things. 

Whatever.

Merry Christmas, everyone.  Hopefully I'll have more fun to post about soon!

The Rest of our Hospital Stay

After I got to feed A.J. for the first time in the post op room, the nurses wanted to take her away again to recheck all her vitals and give her a real bath while I was wheeled off to my own room to get settled in.  Matt, at this point, headed off for home to pick up his Mom and Peter and bring them back to the hospital to meet our new arrival. 

Once in my room, I killed the time by making a few phone calls and generally annoying the nurses by asking questions about when I'd be allowed to get out of bed.  I'd spoken to my doctor in great detail ahead of time about how I could get out of the hospital (and back home to my son) as soon as possible.  He had told me that the standard hospital stay for a Cesarean was 4 days... sometimes 5.  Women who really want to go home are usually able to leave on the 3rd day if everything is going well.  BUT, he also told me that he had, twice, in his 25 years of practicing, had women go home the day following surgery.  He'd informed me that since my recovery had gone so smoothly the last time, and that my surgery was so early in the morning this time, that theoretically I had a fair chance of "convincing him" to let me go home LATE on the day after surgery as well.  Provided of course I was up, and eating, and the catheter had come out okay and I'd made all the necessary trips to the bathroom and my outputs were good and my incision looked good and of course, if the baby was doing well.

Two patients in 25 years huh?  Well, CHALLENGE EXTENDED.  I was determined to do everything in my power to be his third patient released on that 2nd day if I could, so I could go home with my new baby to my original baby, Peter.  Call me crazy if you want.  Many people have, including many of my nurses most of that afternoon following the surgery as I was begging for help to get out of bed, and go to the bathroom and take a shower.

Well, first of all, two things about that. 

After Peter was born, I was certainly not in any hurry to go home, but I did want out of that bed.  I HATED feeling tied down and helpless and stuck in that bed.  I have as much of a lazy streak as anyone, I guess, but when big things are happening, like say, the arrival of a new child, the last thing I want to do is be stuck sitting around in bed, doing next to nothing.

And the other thing is, I remember that happy little post-partum bubble Matt and I flittered around in at the hospital for 4 sureal days after Peter was born.  However, this time, that happy little bubble kept popping... every single time I thought about Peter and wondered how he was doing at home without his Mommy and Daddy.  Not that I didn't know that he was in the very capable care of his Gramma.  But I MISSED him.  I missed him like crazy.  And I felt confident that going home to my boy sooner rather than later was going to be the best way for me to be able to fully relax, enjoy my new baby and concentrate on recovering.  My Doctor understood my feelings and agreed with me... again, so long as I was healthy enough to go, he would let me.

Anyway, back to A.J.'s birth day. 

Right around 10:30 Matt arrived back at with his Mom and Peter.  Boy was I glad to see him. 

We immediately paged the nursery and asked them to bring us A.J. but they said they wanted to keep her there under the warmer for a little while longer as her temperature was a little low after her bath.  Then FINALLY they brought her in and for the first time that day my heart felt whole again. 

Daddy lifted Peter up to get a first glimpse of his new little sister.  A.J. however could not hold his interest for very long as Sesame Street was on Television.

 

However, once she was in his Daddy's arms, he found her more interesting...

Here's a cute shot of Matt and his Mom doting on our sweet little girl.

And here is our first photo of our new family of four.  Peter by then was much more interested in his strange new little sister than in smiling for the camera.

True love all over again...

Peter's first lesson in sharing Mommy.

Gosh, and now Gramma has her...

Eventually, after a nice long visit (and lots of snuggles with Mommy and Daddy) Gramma needed to take Peter home for some lunch and a nap.  It made me so sad to see them go, but I knew it was necessary and with him safe at home I was able to focus on my recovery some!!

Then our friend Dawn came by!  It was so exciting to have another visitor, especially since the last time we were there in the hospital we didn't yet know anybody here who could come and visit.  Sweet Dawn was so moved by our new addition that she actually cried!  (I don't even think I cried... which is weird... but anyway...) 

As the day of her birth wore on, A.J. nursed a lot, and soiled some diapers, and screamed occasionally about one of those two, and she slowly became more and more alert to her new life outside of Mommy's tummy. 

Although, to be fair, who wants to be alert when snuggling asleep in Daddy's warm arms is an option...



Somewhere along the way, a nurse came by with this very cool souvenir hat- a gift from the hospital.  And a very welcome one at that, since the newborn beanie wouldn't stay on her big head but this one actually fit!!

A.J. snuggled with Daddy the next morning while Mommy got a shower.  I'd actually been granted a quick one the night before (to scrub down my itchy skin) but by the morning I was desperate to get out of the hospital gown and into some nice comfortable jammies of my own.

Especially since I had found some fun Mickey Mouse jammies, complete with a matching onsie for the baby, for just this occasion!

Now of course, by this point we'd all forgotten that my c-section was originally scheduled for December 1st not November 30, but it had been moved up one day by my doctor when another, more complex surgery came up about a month and a half ago.  It wasn't actually until he came in to check on me that morning, still in his surgical scrubs, that I even remembered.

So he checked my chart and my tummy and my incision and commended me on "taking care of business," so to speak, so that maybe he could release me.  Then he laughed about how half the nurses were so annoyed by me for pushing myself so hard while the other half were in love with me for not whining and moaning and needing a bunch of convincing to so much as roll over in bed.  After giving me this hard time, he said that if the pediatrician would be willing to release A.J., and if everything on my end continued on par for the rest of the day, he'd return in the evening after his office hours and send me home.   

Naturally, we celebrated this happy news by getting a photo of her with the man who's hands delivered her.  (She was less than thrilled to see him again.)

The rest of that day was mostly spent relaxing and enjoying our daughter.  We all took a few naps.  Nurses came in and out and checked on everybody.  We watched some TV.  My lunch came and Matt and I split it.  Matt did some homework and played computer games on his computer while I nursed A.J. and slept some more.  A lovely lactation consultant paid us a visit.  She watched me feed the baby and gave our latch her "seal of approval."  She also noticed that the baby stayed latched on for well over 30 minutes and okayed us to give her a pacifier if we wanted.  Not that we needed her permission, but it was nice to hear she didn't think it would do any harm.  

The pediatrician was called in the early afternoon and informed of our plans (hopes) to leave the hospital.  She wasn't happy.  When she'd been in to see A.J. early that morning she'd been very sleepy and uninterested in nursing.  She really felt another night's stay would be best for her, but would settle for us making an office visit in the morning for a weight check and a quick once over instead.  (A.J. by then was down 8 oz from her birth weight.)

Late in the afternoon, Gramma and Peter came back to see us.  We all visited again for awhile and then Matt took them home to get dinner and prepare Peter for bed before he came back to get A.J. and I who would hopefully be home just in time for his bedtime. 

A new nurse checked in for the afternoon/evening shift.  She was crazy.  I'm sure she thought she was funny, but Matt and I both found her to be very, very annoying.  This made me more glad to be leaving.  She loaded us up with diapers and thermometers and booger-bulbs and maxi pads and those mesh underpants and those GIGANTIC post-partum mega-maxi-pads that I'm sure serve a purpose for women who deliver their babies the traditional way.  Then she started listing orders for me and Matt to follow once I got home.  These basically indicated that I wasn't to move or do anything at all, except maybe cuddle or nurse my new baby and occasionally waddle off to the bathroom.  Matt on the other hand, was charged with ensuring I did nothing, and was, supposedly to take care of everything else.  The whole thing was so ridiculous, actually, because Matt really does a great deal around here normally and in fact did not need some silly nurse to start assuming the worst male stereotypes about him.  But whatever.

Oh, and while Matt was gone taking Peter and his Mom home, my dinner came and I was to eat it before they'd let me leave.  It was prime rib, with steamed brocolli and a baked potato.  It was delicious.  It was way too good to be hospital food, even though, this time around, the food I had (all 5 meals of it) was actually really quite tasty. 

Suddenly I began to rethink my desire to go home.

But by then it was too late.  I had my marching orders and Peter was at home expecting me.

And A.J. was all dressed and ready to go too.

As was I.  Although why I thought it was a good idea to stand sort of sideways for this picture I have NO idea.  It's like I'm trying to show people how big my tummy still was the day after.  Ugh.

When Daddy came back, we loaded her up in her car seat.  Thankfully she didn't scream.  (Boy am I ever glad we had already introduced that pacifier!!)

And then we were headed out.  Of course the nurse insisted I use a wheelchair, which, if you ask me,  is just silly.  When I got to the hospital, I was still very pregnant, and quite frankly, even though I was not in labor, was suffering from a great deal of pain... but they let me walk then.  Whatever.

Finally, on our way ou,t we stopped at the Dennis the Menace statue for a quick photo. 

(We'd missed the photo op last time because I'd been moved to a room outside of the Family Birth Center when too many other women came in to deliver, and had therefore exited the hospital a different way.)
Not long afterward, we were home and I was helping put Peter to bed.  He was so happy to see me.  He wouldn't let me leave the room.  He wanted me to pick him up so badly, and of course I couldn't but I did sit on the floor next to his crib and he gripped my hand in his own for a long time until he fell asleep.  It was right then that I knew, once and for all, the I'd made the right choice in coming home early.  I'm sure if I'd stayed longer he'd have been fine, eventually, but at this point, that one long night away from him was plenty.  I was so happy to be home.