Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was a welcome respite from doing stuff all the time. Instead we had the Edwards grandparents do everything for us while we sat around and said things like, "Two kids?! Who has two kids?"

"I'm helping. But I don't know why we're doing this."  -Ava

Straight Talk with Ava

• "This ear infection is not working for me."
• Walking in on Brian while peeing, placing a hand on his leg: "I'm going to stand here and keep you company so you don't have to be lonely."
• "James, what's your name? James? Ohhhhhh...that's a great name."
• "I can't get my shoes right now because my hands are preeeeeeeeetty dirty."

Rabold, Party of Five

James's First Lunch Date

James's First Bath

A few days ago we gave James his first bath. He is now officially the cleanest person in the house.

 

Little Man's First Week

Apart from anxiety over naming our child, week number 1 has been pretty smooth sailing. You'll notice that James spent most of his first week with his eyes closed--a point not lost on us.  But you don't gain a pound a week by being active.

Today in Ava

"Oh...babe. Oh...babe. Why are you crying? Big sister is here. I'm not going anywhere."

"First name? Baby. Middle name? Boy."

Okay, he's been here for a week, but hey, we're not ones to go around willy nilly giving our child a name after only 10 months of deliberation. We knew things looked grim when Ava's teacher asked Ava what her baby brother was named and she replied, "I don't know. Maybe you should come over to our house and help us pick a name." That was day four.

We were even more certain we were in trouble when the hospital called--twice--to inform us that there actually is a deadline for picking a name for a newborn. That deadline was today, so we turned to the most decisive person we know: Ava. We told her the names we had on our trusty list and asked her which one she liked the best. Without hesitation, she sang, "James. James. James. James-James. James." And it was so.

Re-presenting:

 Mr. James Dylan Rabold

Now weighing in at 10 lbs, 8 oz!

The biggest, baddest baby around

Little Man

To give credit where credit is due, we also received assistance on the middle name, courtesy of Rodney.

Introducing...

...our gentle giant,

Mr. Baby Boy Rabold
Born on Friday, November 4, 2011
5:04 p.m.
9 lbs, 15 oz (conversion = 1.5 Avas)

23 inches (conversion = almost 1/2 of a Paula, as she pointed out)

The young man is behaving well, even though he is yet to be named.

Let's Get This Party Started

At two days past due, we're fearful that Helen has made things a little too comfortable in the baby condo. Of course, we're slightly apprehensive about labor, a newborn, and bouts of toddler envy, but the alternative is to be pregnant forever. Seriously, it's time to move on from this:

This weekend we took to some folksy but indisputably reliable baby expulsion techniques.

Step 1: Smoke him out. Here is Helen eating something named "Hot Pepper Chicken Bath," which receives four out of four bombs on the restaurant's "ass-kicking scale." What's that, baby? Can't handle the heat?

Step 2: Hiking "Mt. Labor." Just like every other pregnant woman in Portland, Helen walked to the top of Mt. Tabor, squatting often to encourage the baby to move along. If nothing else, this one was worth it just to see the concerned look on strangers' faces when they saw a big ole prego squatting on the side of a mountain.

Step 3: Nesting. Chores that require being on ones hands and knees have helped pregnant women stay productive and induce labor for Millenia. So we're told. By men.

With this combination, we are certain that our average-sized baby will be here any day now. In the meantime, our hearth is spotless.