My facebook feed is equally full of (1) pictures of Mardi Gras revels, and (2) the woeful sorrow of my former law classmates who left New Orleans and wish they were partying on Fat Tuesday. I fall into the latter camp, and I submit that it is particularly cruel to be a Mardi-phile who lives…
Category: Tex
My Last Baby
Yesterday on facebook I posted a link to a little blog post that waxed nostalgic for the “last baby.” “Every one of his firsts is also your last – your last first smile, your last first step, your last first word.” etc. etc. It’s that little bit of sentimental torture to which I am particularly…
Craig and His Mother
Aaaaah, the fourth trimester. Semantically, the minute Craig gazed into the face of my OB and breathed, he turned from a fetus into a baby – but actually, aside from the breathing and the eating, he is still pretty much a fetus. The switch from fetus to baby is a much slower, more organic process…
Pease Porridge Hot, Pease Porridge Cold
My littlest boy is nine days old.* We still count his age in days, though soon it will be in weeks, then months, then years. Soon, the vivid and visceral memory of his birth will begin to soften around the edges. I will have to rely on my written account to remember how it went….
Pictures
Now that we’re home, I have had the chance to upload some photos documenting the last few days.