He's here and he's beautiful.

I know that constant posts about how special one's children are can be kind of annoying...but today my cynical ass can't come up with anything other than pure joy that Foster is in my life. I'm sure that the quirky and obscure will become apparent (and hopefully funny) again soon...but right now all I can think of is that everything I'm experiencing is precious and wonderful and something that I will never forget.

Right now, I'm sitting here watching him feed calmly, wrapped in a truck outfit...his footies tucked into some oversized socks that make him look like a mini astronaut. Earlier today we took him for his first checkup with the doctor and his little cries for help as he was being examined broke my heart. Amy comforted me (which helped) but it was still hard. Of course I know that I can't keep him from crying forever...but that doesn't mean I can't try.

Last night Foster gave us a preview of upcoming evenings: Eat, sleep a bit, cry a lot, wiggle a bit, repeat. Nothing noteworthy except that he's pooping like a world champion. With his meconium coming out it looks like our own little Gulf Spill. At one point I was wondering if there was a baby version of top-kill that might help. Still, it's "cute poop"... which are two words I thought I'd never put together. :)

I'm a bit more emotional about everything which is a surprise to me. In the hospital they put this little mother-son braclet on each of them so that when they get close together it sings a little song (for security). I feel like I've got a quiet one of my own attached, too. No music, but I light up when he gets close.

Amy is such a good mom. She's so assured with everything and got a calm plan about it all. Fudge and her have this bond (literally) that I can't have but instead of feeling jealous I'm just really glad that he's got another person who loves him as much as I do in his life.

I'm a little neurotic these days too...something that Amy is finding cute at the moment. The 20 minutes it takes me to guide his arm through a sleeve, the 5-point neck support grip I employ, the constant binkie patrol I seem to be on...I just hope that it stays cute until I learn that he won't actually "break". :)


Anyway, all these feelings and thoughts I've been having are nothing new to the world I'm sure. It's new to my world though and I'm really greatful for having them. Welcome, Foster, you beautiful, beautiful boy.

-Daddy


PS. I think I'm messing up the Oxford Comma. (That one was for you, Meg.)