Addie comes home

It's Friday night, and I'm back in the living room where, on Tuesday, Anna sat in the recliner, thirty-eight weeks pregnant. Everything is approximately the same, except now Anna is holding Addie, who has been released entirely into our care. While I'm now thrilled that Addie is at home, my thought process this morning ran as such: Oh good, Addie's coming home. --to-- Oh God, Addie's coming home! Given the fact that most of my knowledge of child raising comes from ABC's early-90's TGIF lineup--I'm afraid I'm in trouble. But, I have confidence in Anna, and if Full House taught me anything, Addie will a toddler at least by the end of the first season.

Well until Uncle Jesse shows up (have mercy!), I'll tell you a little bit about how the hospital deviously deprives you of sleep after you have a baby. Don't get me wrong--it's nice to have the help that the nursing/hospital staff provides, but, man, they never stop coming into the room. It doesn't matter what's going on at the time, it's just one staff member after another. And they seem to come at the most inopportune times. Last night, finally, Anna and Addie are asleep in the bed; I'm falling asleep in my recliner (That's right, I slept in a chair--I just pretended that I was flying, and I had an awesome, first-class seat.) and in walks a tech to draw Anna's blood...at 4:30 in the morning. I'm no doctor (at least in the traditional sense), but I'm pretty sure Anna would have still had an ample supply of blood to provide a few hours later. Oh well, sleep's overrated anyway. Nitey nite.