Tomorrow, I return to work -- a whole ton of it. For example, my first shift starts Friday at 7:30 am, and goes until Saturday at noon, and my understanding is I will likely get no sleep the entire time. In the context of the bliss of the last 7 weeks, this will be a nasty jolt to the system - I would (perhaps not surprisingly) prefer to stay at home.
Walking around the block this morning (on a rare respite from november drizzle), wearing sweatpants, no shirt, a fleece sling with the Bear drooling on my belly, an oversized flannel, and drinking a cold cup of coffee -- I felt an overwhelming sense of joy. The last 7 weeks have been probably the best of my life -- suddenly having a cozy little family - all of us healthy and attached to each other. Even if I spend 85% of the next two months in an over-crowded children's hospital, we've got years and years of this stuff to go, and Im a lucky dude.
Obviously feeling a little nostalgic this morning, I pieced back to this video of Alden at 2 days of life just home from the hospital filling out a very small section of his basinet. Enjoy . . .
OK, you have Gramma crying here...
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