Inventions

Papa went off to church today. It's still not time for my debut there, but I did my part, sleeping (and not fussing) during the night. Lots of people there asked about my name. Ramsay is an Arabic name, meaning "my sign" or "my symbol." It is also a name common in the British Isles, meaning "wild garlic island." Phew. This spelling (ay) is the Scottish preference. Papa is proud of his Scottish ancestry. Plus, he figures having a difficult to spell name builds character.

However, this all is somewhat irrelevant, since Mama and Papa never seem to call me Ramsay. Instead, I have nicknames like Pumpkin Loaf, Kicking Bird, Gingerbread Man, Sweet Pea, Banana Squash Flower, Little One, Barracuda, etc.

Mama and Papa also unveiled my Gymini™ today, which has got to be the most amazing, interesting thing I have ever seen! Black and white polka dots, bits of red, I bet the inventors of this thing won the Nobel Peace Prize. I could lie on my back and stare at this thing for minutes at a time!

Generations

Another big outing today, this one to Lenbrook Retirement Center where Great-Grandmommy lives [video]. I seemed to be the center of attention there, everybody making goo-goo eyes over me. Great-Grandmommy is Papa's Grandmommy. She said, "He's a keeper." I guess I've passed all the tests now!

One outing a day is about all I can handle right now. Or maybe it's all that anybody else can handle. They all seem pretty wiped out after even the simplest of errands!

"Scooter"

Papa seemed waaaaaay too well rested these past few days. While Mama's job is to feed me and Grandma's job is to take care of my early morning fussy spells, Papa gets the late shift. And frankly, I had been letting him slack on the job the last few days. Well, not last night! He earned his keep during the 1-2 and 3-4 shifts.

I don't know if this was revenge or not, but today they put me on my belly (buck nekkid) on a pad on the deck [video]. I managed to turn my head from side to side and scoot forward in frog fashion. A bit slowly and a bit frustrating, but I made it.

And the big news is that Grandma cut my fingernails today, which means I finally get to take these ridiculous flyswatters off of my hands and suck away!

Newsworthy

Nothing really all that exciting happened today. But my cuteness is enough to warrant coverage! Grand B came over today for a visit. Apparently we're the only ones who got the memo to wear yellow. The pink socks are a bit emasculating, however.

When we're doing feedings now, Mama likes to read me from an old volume of Ogden Nash poems. The book belonged to Grandpa Woody. We call our time together "Nash and Nosh." My favorite is the one about the Panda:
I love the Baby Giant Panda,
I’d welcome one to my veranda.
I never worry, wondering maybe
Whether it isn’t Giant Baby;
I leave such matters to the scientists–
The Giant Baby- and Baby Giantists.
I simply want a veranda, and a
Giant Baby Giant Panda.

Traveling and Noise

Today was my first trip to the doctor. Dr. Price is a nice lady! I haven't gained any weight or gotten any taller, but that's OK. That just means I'll get extra feedings until we go back on Friday for a check-in.

When we got home, there were all of these work men, fixing things in the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathrooms, so many sights and sounds and smells! Even so, I managed to get in a good nap. I'm getting good at that.

Around the House

OK - so I knew about Mama and Papa, but nobody told me about Hamish. She's about my size, fuzzy, tail, uses a box instead of a diaper, and likes to smell my head. She also doesn't stick around for photos, but we'll see what we can do.

I've had to keep so busy entertaining everybody. We have these late night chats about stuff. The problem is that they keep nodding off on me. How rude! Anyway, it's a good thing that I'm here. Otherwise, they'd probably sleep their lives away.

Mama and Papa and Grandma must be relieved to have an extra hand around the house. Today I helped with the laundry!

Everybody keeps talking about how strong I am: my neck is strong, my legs are strong and long. I'm just glad I don't have to wear that silly hat anymore. Now I can let my fuzzy red head see the light of day!

However, they still make me wear these "mitt bats" on my hands. They're huge! And they just don't satisfy the discerning palate. It was so much easier when I was still in that dark, warm place (they call it in utero). When I came out, I had "suck blisters" on my hands. It was a small price to pay for delicious comfort.

Going Home

So many firsts today: first hospital departure, first time outside, first car ride, first time home. Wow - I sure hope that somebody is keeping track of all of this! I admit that I'm a little concerned for Mama and Papa, though: they're going to have to do this parenting thing without all of the nurses and doctors around!

Good thing for grandparents. Grandma Lee (Mama's Mama) is staying with us, which is just fine with me. Grandpa (Papa's Papa) came by tonight for dessert and to hold me. GrandB (Papa's Mama) is out of town, but apparently she's checking my blog regularly (whatever that means - maybe it's like how Mama and Papa keep checking my diaper regularly).

The Color and the Shape

Today was a better day. Mama and Papa were worried the last couple of days because I was losing weight and a little yellow ("jaundiced," I think they call it). I heard the nurse say these things are normal, but you know how nervous new parents can be. I have to break them in slowly. Anyway, last night they started supplementing my meals with formula until Mama's milk comes in, and it seems to be doing the trick.

Papa keeps disappearing during the day to go to this mythical place called "home." All I know is he keeps coming back here with paint on his elbows and saying that "the nursery needs one more coat." Whatever that means. He also plays this new nickname game. When my hat falls off, he puts it back on. As my face smushes up, he calls me "Gollum." As my face returns to its normal shape, he says, "Smiegel." He's weird.

Anyway, both Mama and Papa hope that there will be more nighttime scenes that look like these rather than the one with open eyes and searching mouth.

On the Third Day...

I've got this Lo-Jack thing on my ankle, and they've got my feet and hands bound up. We're getting better on the whole schedule thing, and I'm getting better and better and taking my arms out of the swaddling. Mama calls me "Houdini" (I can't eat my mittens when they're bundled up!).

Some times I like to eat every couple of hours, some times I'll take a quick five minute break between latchings. Apparently, it makes Mama a little sore. But the biological terminology is beyond me.

Everyone talks about how strong my neck is, and how I was following with my eyes today and focusing (What they don't know is that I have X-Ray vision).

I did get to see all my grandparents again today. I look forward to meeting Great-Grandmommy next week. Mama was a little sad, though, and told me about her Dad, who died one year ago today. I'm sad that I won't get to meet him, but I am lucky to have so many people who love me.

To Sleep, Perchance to...Eat?

The second night was a little rougher than the first. Mama and Papa are figuring out this feeding routine business. I kept telling them I was hungry, but they didn't seem to get it. I'll get 'em trained.

Mama's belly looks like a train ran over it. She says she's got "braces," whatever that means. She's up and about already, impressing the nurses with her recovery. Me? I'm just having trouble eating my mittens. I could land planes with these things!

Meanwhile, here's a bunch of pictures with me and my official fan club members:

It's a Boy!

I, Ramsay Marthame Sanders, decided I couldn't wait any more to enter the world. They say that my due date was May 3, and Mama was scheduled for a C-Section on April 28. But by today, April 20, at 3:45 am, I had had enough in utero "quality time." So I pushed out the water, and said, "Let's get this show on the road!" Surgery began at 7:30 am, and I got to join the party at 7:54. 7 lbs. 14 oz., 21 inches. A little bit of red fuzz and male-pattern baldness. The smartest, most beautiful baby you've ever seen. Just ask my grandparents!

Mama is doing just fine, so is Papa (though he did have to sit down in order to avoid passing out when they redid Mama's epidural).

And, most importantly, so am I. I make cute little noises quite a bit (Mama calls me "chatty" [video]; Papa makes up a new nickname for me every time he picks me up). I don't like it when Papa burps me. And I'm already a teacher, instructing Papa in the ways of theology.

You see, Papa was going to preach on the topic "Surprise" on Sunday. Thursday was supposed to be the day for writing that sermon. It was also supposed to be a day to make impressive headway on painting the nursery. Needless to say, I had my own plans, and their plans have shifted. The folks at our church have graciously scrambled to help adjust (on both fronts), and Papa now has a couple of extra paragraphs on the sermon topic in the future.

Phone calls have been coming from out-of-town family, both to send warm words to all three of us, and also so that I can share with them little bits and pieces of gurgling wisdom. Aunt Alecia sang me "Happy Birthday." Uncle Norwood listened to me chatting and giggled uncontrollably.