While Emily and I were brainstorming naming for Ryan, I briefly threw out the idea of giving him an entirely different, shorter last name than either of our last names. The dreadfully un-scientific thoughts I had were:
Before we had Ryan, Emily had predicted one benefit to having kids would be we could see the world afresh through their eyes.
I decided to carry Ryan on my shoulders today for the first time. Since he can't sit up on his own, I held onto his arms so that he wouldn't fall over backward. I carried him into the kitchen and Emily said "oh, he's smiling!" I wanted to see it myself, so I carried him back into the bathroom. At this point, he wasn't smiling anymore. But as I was watching him watch me in the mirror, he
Gorgonzola was known as “Baby Boy Tanaka” for the first few days in the postpartum unit, but Emily and I eventually settled on his name, "Ryan Takeshi Tanaka".
During the first two days after Ryan was discharged from hospital last Friday, he got increasingly fussy while we were trying to feed him. He had too few wet diapers and too few stool diapers, and on Sunday, his temperature spiked into a fever. His pediatrician had us take him to the emergency room.
I've had a headache off and on now for around 100 hours. The bursts of pain are conspiring together with a brain in a restless, roving mood to keep me awake.
Emily, in what is hopefully merely an example of
Yesterday, Emily and I met a woman who told us about her friend who is also pregnant. Said friend didn't want to know the gender of the fetus, which left the woman with a conundrum—what to call the baby? Not really liking the word "it", she told us she decided to call it "spawn."
Our doctors use a "'baby' as a pronoun" strategy. "When 'baby' is born...", "You should feel
