Bobbing Along

Here he is!!

The phone call that I was anxiously awaiting, came, naturally, in the dead of night, sending Dear Dave and me catapulting around in a flurry of activity, grabbing our stuff in haste as we headed for the hospital. The hospital that was four hours away. All my efforts at advance preparation were for naught. We were literally tripping over each other. Surprisingly we made it successfully out of the house with only minor injuries, into the car and up the interstates, arriving at the hospital in enough time to welcome Grandchild #3.

What a thrill. Truly, a thrill. Greeting a minutes-old child and in that instant falling delightfully, totally in love never ever gets old. The capacity of the heart to immediately expand and envelope a new child never ceases to amaze me.

In an earlier post, I referred to the minor quandary of naming this child. His cousin, you may recall, wanted to call him one thing. Others, i.e. the parents-to-be, were less enamored of the suggestion. Over the course of the pregnancy, many nicknames were bandied about. So what am I going to call him, you may wonder?

Once he put on this adorable hat that, yes, I bought for him, his blog name was quite obvious: Readers, meet The Chickadee!

And how are things going, you ask? Well…actually…things are going just fine, in a predictable sort of way:

Sleep deprivation seems to be the norm for any new set of parents. We all go through it. We manage to survive it. Family legends are built around such tales of woe. And yet, the joy that children bring to our lives is a gift beyond measure. Welcome to the Family, Chickadee. Welcome to the World. Welcome. You are truly loved.