Will's First Christmas

I tell you what, this kid is something else. I'm now THAT guy. Gushing. That's right, gushing. My kid can kick your kid's ass already! How 'bout them apples. I taught Will to throw a bowline and build a wilderness shelter over dinner. He's a quick study. Once the English kicks in, look out. Look out indeed.

Oh yeah, Christmas was pretty awesome with requisite picture of said young genious garbed in snowman suit coming soon to a blog near you. He wore a bear suit today. Cute? Yes. Irresistible? Yes.

We also ate out this evening for the first time. If you're the lactation lady reading this.... STOP RIGHT HERE. Anyways, we went to Trak's for a little Greek action. Yum. I argued over the bill with the owner. You'll never win an argument with a crazy Egyptian lady and a calculator. True dat. You takin' notes?

This little guy is pretty cool.

Yep. I have to say it, I'm becoming one of those guys I used to revile. I showed off a picture of Wil (or Will, still deciding that one), no less than 10 times yesterday. He's a good looking boy, already holding his head up and can suck a bowling ball through a garden hose. His mom is having mixed reactions about that last one.

New URL

We've changed the address of the blog to: http://ourmightywill.blogspot.com

The artist formerly known as Quinn is now....

William Rhys Clifford!!!!!!

William -- Family name on both sides. My Great Grandfather (Hill '11), Liz's Grandfather, my Uncle Bill and many others
Rhys -- Means ardent and enthusiastic. What better name for the girl that went up a hill and came down a boy.
Clifford -- Sort of required. Old Angle name referring to some dead dude living near a cliff by the fjord (Cleese enunciation a la the Dead Parrot sketch).

That's right folks. After long hours of debate, we decided on a name we batted around long ago (before crazy sonograms and the like). We're now closely deciding on whether or not to spell his name Will or Wil? I guess now that I write it, Will seems like a better fit. Looking forward to the godlesshatemonger's take on this post.

Welcome Will (or Wil) to the circus.

Hope you're sitting down for this...

We have a new arrival!

7 lbs. 6 oz.
20.5" long

We don't have name for this little dude yet. Yep, that's right, I said little DUDE. Little Miss Quinn is a boy without a name. We couldn't be happier, but needless to say this throws the whole pink clothing thing into disarray. Life could certainly be worse. For my part, I'm on top of the world!!! A son!! What could be better!

We'll post a name when one comes to us.

Aunt Alison Arrives

Alison Stanley, best friend of the Slaap, has arrived. The nurse has upped the Pitocin and the contractions are starting to come now, a little mild and about two minutes apart.

Let the room visits commence!

Kandy Fielo stopped by and hung out for a little while with the gang. She rocks!

Pitocin, anyone?

It seems we've turned a corner here, folks. Our beloved Slaap (slave name Liz) is in Room 3 at St. Mary's Hospital Labor & Delivery with an IV squarely inserted in her arm. Seems the usual midday hit from the crack pipe has been replaced by Pitocin. This ain't your father's Pitocin either, this is prescription-only, highly potent Pitocin. Just saying it can make you contract. Careful. Don't do it... please. See? I warned you.

More waiting.

The Slaap came home last night on special extra-modified bed rest.

She's allowed to do the following:
1. Jack squat
2. Eat
3. Sleep
4. Rinse and repeat

Needless to say, it's a good time here at Chez Clifford. Barb put a new deck on today (kidding... sort of). The nursery never looked better. I learned a lot in remedial driving academy today (no kidding) -- especially that going to remedial driving academy is akin to eating lead paint chips whilst watching Green Acres re-runs with Norwegian dubbed dialogue. Looks good on paper. That's it for me. Reading these it's interesting how my ability to write has disappeared since my last stab at blogging (before it was called blogging, I might add). Perhaps my chops will resurface.

24 Hour Urine?

Ever wondered what it's like having to track everything you drink all day and night? Liz knows all about it now. She'll be chatting live at 7 p.m. for any of you out there who've always wanted to but been afraid to go there.

Lazy Friday

We be chilling and keeping it real up in this jank. Dr. Phil is all up in the tube with all us waitin' on the medico. Be needin' the 411 befaux we can Audi 5. Feel me?

Hurry up and wait...

Greetings folks. Henry Clifford here. I'm joined in the booth by my lovely wife, Quinn-to-be and Barbara Mahaffay (Grandma-in-waiting).

After a decent amount of running around yesterday spurred on by Liz's high blood pressure, things have settled down to a dull roar in Room 311. Liz is currently on a "24 hour urine" capture program. It's loads of fun and we'll make sure to take lots of pictures.

Barbara arrived last night after getting a call from us around 1 p.m. the same day. Talk about a wild ride.

At the fleeting moment, Liz is munching on a hospital lunch, Barb is reading and Quinn is being monitored by some pretty fancy gizmos.

An interesting note. I assumed the hospital would have Wi-Fi or at least a hardwired connection here or there. No dice. I tried hacking, pleading, begging, etc., to no avail. I finally called Verizon Wireless and after 3 hours of failed tech support attempts, we now have INTERNET courtesy of their wirless broadband. The geek in me is satisfied.

Peace out.