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Content Warning: My flowing prose and rapier wit has been dented as we crawl into Day 3.
Maddie began the war dance last night.
She deviously spaced out her sleep terrorism tactics into about 60 to 90 minute intervals. I’m hoping that she takes pity and doesn’t start water-boarding us again tonight.
Gina says she never been so sleep-depleted. Sometime around 4am – I tied my sleeplessness record from freshman year in college that took place some time during the Bronze Age.
In front of the grandparents – Maddie is all butterscotch and ponies – during the night, she morphs into Cerberus – the three headed creature that guards the entrance to Hades, tearing limbs asunder and taking no prisoners.
We’ve also discovered that this young lady considers the diaper change to be a personal effrontery of biblical proportions.
At around 2am – I conjured up the spirit of the younger and more talented Kevin Costner – and taught my daughter the Tatonka tribal dance. This is similar to (but not to be confused with) Katy Perry’s I’m drunker than Kesha and can not recall my Friday night whereabouts dance. Too many slizzers I guess, but I digress.
Madeleine and I begin our faux-Sioux dance while I chanted in broken Jim Morrison lyrics – all the while injecting the word TATONKA! For some reason, this puts Maddie to sleep time after time!
Thank you again Mr. Costner! “You’re welcome, Meat,” says Crash.
Breastfeeding can be troublesome for some newborns – not this girl.
This young lady loves da boob!
Gina and I swayed with trepidation as Maddy eyed the prize for the first time. Would she be able to engage?
Remember young Skywalker trying to blow up the Death Star? “Stay on target” “Stay on target!” Well the force is strong with my daughter.
Maddy lit it up on her first run and her mom’s eyes went wide.
“Whoa,” gasped Gina – “Save some for later, take human slurps!”
Make no mistake, this Munchkin loves to eat.
She’s like Will Ferrell in Old School, “It just tastes so good once it hits your lips.”
Everybody’s doing it!!
After a good burping, Maddy slept on my chest for about an hour.
This prompted the Meet the Fockers thought, “I have nipples Greg, can you milk me?”
Weighing in at 7 pounds, 14 ounces and 20 inches long, the little girl made her smashing debut on the banks of the Hudson River. Gina was brave beyond measure and I am in awe of her.
Water broken, but our little princess is surely taking her time. Contractions firing on all cylinders. Cue Ridin’ by Chamillionaire because Mom needs a little perscription. Dang, I done spilled my drink!
Pregnant Women are Strong – Here Honey squeeze my hand – Whoops – crush injury – Reconstructive hand surgery scheduled for shortly after we deliver the baby. Staff says I may lose the arm from elbow down. Damn this war!
Cue Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd – Time for the Epidural – ahhhhh, that’s what I’m talking about – even better than box wine!
Cue Danger Zone, Top Gun theme – Gina dons oxygen mask looking like Tom Cruise (I will not leave my wingman) and requests that the baby buzz the tower – STILL no joy – but the mask makes a true fashion statement.
Gina is 10 cm now – starting to get restless until I pull out the US weekly – please everyone, pray for my girl Jay-Lo!
Not going anywhere for a while… Using Almond Joys to bait the child out of hiding
Gina asked what the market was doing. I told her it was getting creamed. Then she asked me what sectors were under-performing. Ummmmmmm?
Gina sleeping as I undertake stealthy bed making maneuvers. Slight miscalculation leads to loud crash. Pregnant wife not overly entertained.
IV knocked loose – blood and fluid oozing onto the bed.
More proof that child birth is good clean fun!
Evil vending machine holding Mounds bar hostage – rescue operations under consideration.
And we are walking the halls.
Still no joy in Mudville!
Doc breaks water during contraction – Things are heating up!!
Upon arriving at the hospital, the doctor asks us, “So why are you guys here?” Nothing like a sense of humor!
I try Chopin’s Nocturn in F-Sharp to induce labor.
We switch to Beethoven.
Gina is pacing back and forth.
I’m bouncing a tennis ball to hit an imaginary serve when Gina proclaims: “Look at us! Type-A people should not be allowed to pro-create!”
23:00 Rap Inspiration:
Classical music not inducing labor. Switch to Ice Cube, “You can do it, put your back into it!”
She decided that the 28th just wasn’t good enough!