Whew

You know, I wouldn't have signed up for this whole 'existance' thing if I knew it would be so much work. Do you realize how much effort it takes to look this adorable? Do you? Trust me; you don't want to. The constant holding, compliment fielding, the batting of the eyes...what? You think that's natural? Please.



So, it's been a month since the big day I took my first gulp of air and all things considered, it's going pretty well. Even got to witness my dad consume an entire turkey and fall into a coma. Good times. He actually ate so much, I vomited.



I've also discovered "Tummy Time." It's very exciting. I get to lay on, get this, my stomach. Oh, were you waiting for something else? Maybe, oh, I don't know, lie on my stomach and watch a movie, perhaps? Yeah. So was I. But no. I get to lay down on my stomach and continue to do just that and hear my parents and grandparents congratulate me on a job well done. I guess it doesn't take much to impress them.

Man, I hate tummy time.

Hello, world.

First off, this post says November 8th and that's correct, it is indeed November 8th. However, this date could confuse you, dear reader, into thinking that I came into this world today. That, of course, is absurd. It takes at least seven calendar days to fully understand a computer, let alone typing. So cut me some slack.



Anyhow, a little back story: seven days ago, I was born. For those who have trouble with simple calculations, that's November 1st. And yes, I'm referring to you, Dad.

That's pretty much it, from my point of view. Before that, things were pretty much hazy and, quite frankly, noisy. (Especially when dear old Dad took me and mom somewhere in the car; apparently, he just can't hold back from that CD player.) Add to that the zero leg room and an insatiable desire to see the outside world, and you have a recipe for an early baby.



So what if I was a little early. Okay, okay, five and a half weeks early. But still, I'm doing pretty well. Everything's fully functional and I have a 99% clean bill of health. The remaining 1% is being taken care of by a glowing blanket that's supposed to get rid of someone named Billy Rubin. Seems like a nice enough guy, but apparently he and the parents must have had a falling out a while back.

For the most part, though, things are going well. I've met a lot of nice people, and I was finally able to put faces to voices I've been hearing so much (namely mom and dad, but the grandma's were easily discernible once I was out).



Well, it's time to eat. Or maybe nap. Or go to the bathroom and have someone clean it up for me.

Now that's what I'm talking about.

-T