One Week Old

Seven days in the books. You know how the song from Rent goes, "How do you measure, measure a year? In diapers? Report cards? In spoked wheels? In speeding tickets?" (Well, maybe you don't, but just pretend like you do for my sake.) I hope people don't use diapers, because that would be like measuring the gross national product in pennies.

Peeing. Pooping. Eating. Sleeping. Crying. That's been the routine lately. No major milestones yet. Noah had his first doctor's appointment, and he made it extra special with some extra showers. I think those were special to help the visiting Oregon relatives feel at home. The only difference is the rain in Portland isn't yellow.

It's been an enormous help having Libby's family around. Uncle Alexander arrived Monday. Grandpa Rick arrived Wednesday. Grandma Betsy arrived Friday. They've been cooking and baby watching and taking care of random chores around the house... (I can't tell you how excited I was when Rick and Alex tackled the leaky sink that I had been putting off for months and had unsuccessfully tried to fix once. SOOOO wonderful!)



But back to the real star of this blog. (That used to be Libby, but we all know things have changed...) He is an impressive pee-er. Twice, now, he's gotten my pants wet, despite being fully clothed in a diaper and an outfit. Today, he even had an EXTRA DIAPER between me and him as he lay on my lap, but he soaked right through it, too... Kidneys are working just fine.



But I seem to be out of time. It's dinner time, and I'd better post some pictures so I don't get drawn and quartered for a pictureless blog entry...