Monday, September 29, 2008

Thomas Quentin Johnson

Man, babies can be ugly. I am quite certain that women have some hormone released when they give birth that allow them to overlook the blotchy skin, wrinkled heads, purple hands, and all of the disgusting shit that comes out of their tiny bodies shortly after birth. Luckily, our baby was one of the cute ones.

Nonameyet has kept us all in suspense for the past few weeks and his grand exit to planet Earth was certainly no let down. It started this morning with a frantic call from Angie 'you need to get here now! I'm bleeding!' Talk about a wake-up call.

I raced to the car, blew through several red lights and even a few green ones to get to the hospital. Angie was scheduled for a C-section later that morning, but Nonameyet obviously thought it would be more exciting to speed things up a bit by creating a few complications. It was.

I got to the hospital just in time to see Angie getting whisked away to the emergency operating room. I was told I could not go in as planned and that Angie would be going completely under, instead of the local anesthesia we were expecting.

As I paced the hallway outside the operating room, I freaked out on two nurses and a doctor passing by when they asked me if I need anything. Luckily, they followed Angie's approach and just ignored me instead of kicking my ass out.

After fifteen sweaty minutes, Irmgard the nurse (no shit, it really is her name) came out wheeling a cart with an angel in it that turned out to be my son. She asked for a name and Nonameyet finally became Thomas Quentin Johnson. Tom.

He was incredibly peaceful. I would have expected screaming, kicking, farting...something, but he just laid there quietly, trying to open one eye. He does have two, so don't freak out and start calling him cyclops.

The nurse took us downstairs to get Tom cleaned off. As soon as she picked him up, he peed all over her. I like this kid already.

He weighed in at 3,600 grams, or 7 lb, 14 oz for those pathetic countries not using the metric system. There are only three, by the way. Aside from the United States, only Burma and Liberia do NOT use the metric system. Get with the freakin' program, guys!

Angie's drugs finally wore off and she woke up asking for me. Kinda. She was actually asking for Tom, but he was with me, so it is essentially the same thing. I went to the 'wake up room' and found a very groggy but very relieved Angie. Her arms were outstretched so I assumed she wanted a hug. Turns out, she wanted to hold the baby. Whatever. I didn't want a hug anyway.

The rest of the day went by in a flurry of phone calls, visits and diapers. In the afternoon, the boys came to meet their NEW BROTHER. They were impressed.

David kept running up to everyone and proudly telling them that he was now a BIG BROTHER. Peter is his idol, so this title is quite an impressive one. Peter could hardly contain himself when I allowed him to hold Tom in his lap. He rubbed Tom's cheeks and stroked his hair until he was glowing. Peter, not Tom.

As I tucked Peter and David in to bed, I thought of how fast time has flown with both of them. If day one of Tom's life is any indication of how fast time will fly with him, I need to figure out some way to slow that shit down. I also tried to remember when Peter and David were tiny ugly babies but I simply couldn't. I guess they were cute ones as well.
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I saw Tom, the little baby who is my brother now.
David: When Tom come out the Mama's belly.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When David screamed his head off.
David: When I see Mama and Mama sick.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: When the kindergarten finished, I want to go visit Mama and Tom, who is my brother now.
David: When Mama and the belly I see.


  1. Congratulations! He's cute but I prefer Nonameyet. Thomas? Naah..

    Best news after the Wall Street near-meltdown! Whew!

    Let more fun begin with the latest addition to the "Zoo". I've been following your blog, as a matter of fact it's the only one I follow. I love it, it's much fun to read and you put everything together so "accurately".

    Best of luck to you Nonameyet!!!

  2. Hey Guys,

    It was great to see you! I wish I could have stayed later.

    Steve, aren't you afraid that Santa won't bring you pressies when you say things like "man, babies are ugly?" You'd better be good for goodness' sake.



  3. No, I am not afraid of Santa. His freaky little elves scare the piss out of me, though. Thanks to Peter and David, I have practice outrunning freaky little things with short legs, so I should be ok. By the way, I am sure that even Santa would agree that some babies are just plain ugly.