Fucking hell, it's a baby.
Henchgirl and I give you a massive 11 lbs bundle of win now officially named Harold (Hal) Tiberius Hefner.
A couple people assumed we'd name our boy Harvey, but even I'm not that cruel and/or stupid. Even still, while we love the name we've chosen and think it's better than any other name we could come up with (it offers up a ton of options, including "Harry" and "Ty," and maybe he'll even be a "Hef" as well), it's a bit weird not to think of him as anything other than "Baybeh." And no wonder, considering that we call each other "Boy" and "Girl" and refer to my cat Giorgio as "kitty."
And yes, you read that right. Eleven fucking pounds. Some people haven't found this uncommon, but the hospital certainly did. Two hours after delivery, random doctors and nurses kept popping in to see the Giant Baby for themselves. On top of that, he's 24 inches long, making him too big for newborn clothes. Also, did I mention that Henchgirl didn't have a C-section? Because she didn't. Yeah, bow down before the most hardcore goddamn fangirl in the world.
There's a whole story to go along with the birth, and if I had the energy, I could seriously have whipped together a tense and frighting scenario of fears and complications which eventually resulted in the delivery room being flooded with about eight or nine scrambling doctors and nurses working against the clock. A couple different nurses on separate occasions later told us that the delivery was the event of the day, and that this baby was one for the record books.
The important thing is that we're all okay. Exhausted and cranky, but okay. Oh, and did I mention that I'm performing my multimedia-heavy solo comedy The Road to Nowhere at the Capital Fringe Festival THIS FRIDAY? And that's not even counting the tech rehearsal on Thursday! Tech rehearsal! With lines, and where I have to make sure that all the equipment works! HAHAHAHAHA.
But it'll be okay. If Henchgirl can bring this guy into the world, I can survive the next couple weeks. Well, months, counting Indy Fringe. By that point, I imagine that our family situation will start looking a little like this:
Fucking hell. I'm a "Paw."
I can do this. Now, time to make sure the sleep works, make some diaper, change the pediatrician's office, call up to make an appointment at the projection equipment, and make certain to catch a few hours of baby formula. Monkey banana raffle. 4 //. Itchy. Tasty.
...
Okay, maybe some of that stuff can wait for after a bit of sleep. I gotta take it when I can get it now, after all.
A couple people assumed we'd name our boy Harvey, but even I'm not that cruel and/or stupid. Even still, while we love the name we've chosen and think it's better than any other name we could come up with (it offers up a ton of options, including "Harry" and "Ty," and maybe he'll even be a "Hef" as well), it's a bit weird not to think of him as anything other than "Baybeh." And no wonder, considering that we call each other "Boy" and "Girl" and refer to my cat Giorgio as "kitty."
And yes, you read that right. Eleven fucking pounds. Some people haven't found this uncommon, but the hospital certainly did. Two hours after delivery, random doctors and nurses kept popping in to see the Giant Baby for themselves. On top of that, he's 24 inches long, making him too big for newborn clothes. Also, did I mention that Henchgirl didn't have a C-section? Because she didn't. Yeah, bow down before the most hardcore goddamn fangirl in the world.
There's a whole story to go along with the birth, and if I had the energy, I could seriously have whipped together a tense and frighting scenario of fears and complications which eventually resulted in the delivery room being flooded with about eight or nine scrambling doctors and nurses working against the clock. A couple different nurses on separate occasions later told us that the delivery was the event of the day, and that this baby was one for the record books.
The important thing is that we're all okay. Exhausted and cranky, but okay. Oh, and did I mention that I'm performing my multimedia-heavy solo comedy The Road to Nowhere at the Capital Fringe Festival THIS FRIDAY? And that's not even counting the tech rehearsal on Thursday! Tech rehearsal! With lines, and where I have to make sure that all the equipment works! HAHAHAHAHA.
But it'll be okay. If Henchgirl can bring this guy into the world, I can survive the next couple weeks. Well, months, counting Indy Fringe. By that point, I imagine that our family situation will start looking a little like this:
Fucking hell. I'm a "Paw."
I can do this. Now, time to make sure the sleep works, make some diaper, change the pediatrician's office, call up to make an appointment at the projection equipment, and make certain to catch a few hours of baby formula. Monkey banana raffle. 4 //. Itchy. Tasty.
...
Okay, maybe some of that stuff can wait for after a bit of sleep. I gotta take it when I can get it now, after all.