Cute Baby Photos

We won't hold out on you... we know you don't want to hear from us and you only want photos of Charles. It's cool. We can handle it.

Now that Charlie's demanding public is placated, we just want to wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving. Three days late. Because we roll on baby time now :-)

We had a wonderful week filled with lots of family. Charles got to meet his cousin Claire and his Aunt Sarah and Uncle Andy, as well as spend time with both sets of grandparents. He even got to meet his daddy's aunt and cousins on Friday! We still aren't sleeping much around here, but I understand that is pretty normal for a 3-week old baby. Charles is growing by leaps and bounds, and it is amazing how different he looks from day to day, almost. He opens his eyes more and more each day, too. We are truly blessed with a wonderful addition to our family, and we are thankful every day for his safe arrival and his continued growth and good health.

adorable

typing with one hand, because mr. adorable is in the other, nursing. almost as cute as Charles? these puppies.

Who needs sleep?

Greetings monitor viewers,

To those who have printed this out to read it: please stop now.

So after all Hell broke loose, it has somewhat been fastened again. As parents, we are experiencing the typical feelings of elation at being blessed with our beautiful baby and utter inadequacy of being able to calm him when he is upset (which really only occurs between the hours of 11pm and 3am). This, coupled with sleep deprivation, makes for a truly unique experience. Since I don't have a hormonal bad ass stew running through my body, I can acheive such objective review of the situation.

This last week my Mom came up to stay with us and allow some semblence of order to the house. She was absolutely wonderful: doing our laundry, dishes and preparing meals. We can't thank her enough for being there for us.

Charlie is healthy, which is mostly exemplified by his prolific use of his lung capacity. He seems to like to sleep between 3am and 11am, not continuously mind you, but those are his most restful hours. Buster is adjusting well. This mostly in part to him getting a new squeaky toy. He is a VERY complicated animal:).

Amelia says she feels like this:

Although she still looks like my beautiful wife:

And now for the gratuitous Charlie pictures:

And then all hell broke loose...

Who needs an oven and a washer anyhow?

Two or three days ago (time having become relative to the last feeding), the washer broke. Just great when you have an infant in the house and laundry coming out your ears. Every time we set it to wash warm or hot, it would just turn off. Now, our washer is new, a ginormous gift from my parents when we moved into this house, broke after plunking our savings and graduation gifts and grandma gifts into a down payment. Seriously, thing should not break. And, in fact, it didn't, the washer repair guy was just here, flipped a few switches back and forth (just turn it off and on real fast!) and it is fixed. But that's a different story that didn't end in tears, only extreme frustration and, oh, okay, a few tears at having to shell out 80 bucks for something we'd TRIED doing ourselves multiple times. Gar.

So, anyhow, at first I called Sears, since that's where it came from, and even though I have my mom's receipts for the dang thing, Sears has NO RECORD OF IT EVER BEING PURCHASED. Which translates to: We can't help you. No, seriously. I finally, after speaking to three people and crying, literally, on the phone to the third, got a service appointment set, when they hit me with the payment options. Minimum $109 charge just to have the repairman come out, on top of any fees s/he might charge for a service call, plus parts and labor. I guess this is Sears' fee for the "service" they render over the phone. Some service. I cried again. Then, they offered me a DEAL, the bastards: Pay $214 now and we'll cover all service for the next year. What a deal, especially considering that, as I said before, the washer is new as of 18 months ago. Likely, we won't need any service on it for another ten years. So I did what any woman with crazy just-pushed-a-nine-pound-baby-out-her-you-know-what would do. I cried and passed the decision to Tony. He wisely said "up yours, Sears" and made a service appointment with the local appliance company that outfitted our entire kitchen.

Then the oven broke. Only the oven is really broken, not just flip-switches-back-and-forth-to-miraculously-fix-it broken. All those meals I prepared and froze for "when the baby comes"? Useless to me now. The repairman comes for that on Tuesday. At least it is solidly under warranty. There were tears involved in the discovery that we had no working oven, as well.

Then, on Thursday, we took Charles to his c-i-r-c-you-fill-in-the-rest appointment (there are crazies out there who have that term on permanent Google Search just so they can leave blog comments about how hundreds of American men - is that even statistically relevant? - try to reverse theirs every year with disgusting weights and tape. My thought is that they obviously need something to blame for their stupid lives, and looking to their actions or morals just seems too difficult, so they focus on some physical ridiculous-ness that all men I have talked to, Tony included, say isn't even a choice. It's just what you do with sons). I didn't stay in the room for the procedure, I made Tony do it, but I was thoroughly traumatized by the bloody aftermath. I now understand, I think, what it is to be a mother: wanting, wishing, praying to do anything to take away all suffering of your child. That and a bunch of other stuff. Anyhow, that whole thing ended in tears for me as well. Aren't hormones awesome?

My folks are here this weekend, which has helped me to be a bit more sane today (funny what taking a shower and brushing your teeth will do for a girl... now if only I could find time to eat) and my mother-in-law comes on Monday to help out. Such a blessing. In the immortal words of Britney Spears, "Parenting is hard, y'all." It has taken me hours just to finish this post.

The little chomper is doing well and eating lots (my porn-star-sized breasts are sore as all get-out), mostly sleeping well, too. I am so in love, I can't even describe it. Here are some of the latest photos:

That's a big yawn for such a little face :-)

The pics.

As new parents, we are fully aware that we no longer inhabit center stage...and happily so. Consistent with our newfound part of the stage, this post is simply all the pics we have of Charlie so far. I was going to pick out just the good ones, but, interestingly enough, they are all good.

Here's Grandpa Holeman.and Grandma Holemanand Uncle Lelandand Godfather Brandon and Melyssaand Glenda the Good Nurse. She taught our birthing class. and Charlie's Kung Fu grip.

and Charlie's Superman pose.

The story.

Hi everyone,

Kids these days. You bring them home from the hospital and all they want to do is meet new friends on the internet:).

Mom and baby are doing well. All the grandparents made it up Friday and have been a tremendous help. My parents are staying in the room next to the baby. I imagine Charlie kept them up most of the night (at least Mom...Dad was snoring:), I feel kind of bad. However, this morning Grandma calmed down Charlie enough to let Amelia get some sleep. She is sleeping right now. He sure is a hungry little boy.

I am amazed at how quickly he is starting to look like his own person, even at only three days old. I feel a bit useless as I don't possess the tools to really calm him down, but I am learning.

So the story of his birthday:

Amelia went to work on Thursday and had experienced contractions most of the day. However, they were very brief, not regular and for the most part not painful. She called me at about 4pm and said I should probably wrap up any loose ends I had at work as she felt like labor might start that night. I got home about 6pm and starting recording each contraction. They were anywhere from 6-22 minutes apart and still not regular. About an hour later, we went for a mile and a half walk in the rain because Amelia was determined to keep the contractions going. After our walk and a small dinner, the contractions began to get more painful, but were still about 10 minutes apart.

At 8:45pm, her water broke. She wasn't sure if that's what it was. She went into the bathroom to check and all I heard was," Oh, that's disgusting." I couldn't help but laugh.

We called the doctor's answering service and a few minutes later were told to go to the hospital. We live about a mile away, so we walked in the birth center about 15 minutes after her water broke. In the triage room, the nurses tried to put in an IV, which is standard, but were having difficulty so we were moved down to a regular room after about 15 minutes. The contractions were becoming increasingly painful, but not unbearable. Once in our room, Amelia's contractions started coming so quickly she couldn't hardly take a breath in between. Unfortunately, the hospital had misplaced our registration paperwork, which we had dropped off weeks earlier. So while I am trying to keep Amelia focused on breathing and working through the contractions, the nurse is asking us things like,"Does anyone in your family smoke, etc?" This was a little distracting, to say the least.

Things seemed to be progressing, so finally, they decided to scrap the questions and check Amelia's cervix. She was at 6-7 cm. This was all of 5 minutes after we were in our room. About three contractions later, she was standing holding on to me and said (scream may be more like it, but now I have an excuse for not hearing out of that ear) "I need to push!!" The nurses by this time were a little frazzled and the doctor had still not yet entered the room. They, of course, said not to push until they could check her cervix again. When that contraction ended she was at 10cm!

Being a first child, we were certainly prepared for a long night of walking the halls, trying to relax, doing all the breathing we had learned in our classes. We had both brought books and figured we would likely be up all night trying to keep labor going.

Once they determined the baby was ready to come, Amelia pushed through about 4 contractions and Charlie entered the world. Amelia and I were both crying, but probably for slightly different reasons:). I would say we cried like a baby, but the resident baby was doing no such thing. This has since changed:). Amelia was able to have a completely natural childbirth, just like she wanted. Even though I don't think she ever thought it would happen like it did. It happened so quickly that much of it was a blur.

Apparently, we were the third baby that night at the hospital born within an hour and a half of arriving. Something must have been in the air.

Thanks to everyone who was able to stop by the hospital while we were there and to everyone who has sent their congratulations otherwise. We will continue to post pictures of him (because, who cares about the rest of us:). Amelia will be home for a couple of months before heading back to work and the grandparents will be here on an off for that time as well. If you are in the area, feel free to stop by and meet our newest addition. I'm sure he would love to meet you.

Meet....me!

Hello World,

I just entered the world November 6, 2008 at 9:46pm and I wanted to say 'hi' to everyone out there. My name is Charles DeHaven Cook. When I was born, I was 20 inches long and weighed 9lbs. 3oz., which turns out to be the same as my Dad and my Grandma. Even though my due date wasn't for a couple more weeks, I figured I would come out of my Mom because she had been asking me to do so for a long time. She's done so much for me; I figured I would do something for her. She asked me to be born at 38 weeks, but I forgot to look at my calendar and missed it by a day. Time goes by so quickly when you are in utero, but you probably already knew that. By the time I realized it, I hurried up and got right out. I'll let her tell the story of that though.

I got home to my very own room couple of hours ago and I have to say it's pretty nice. I mean, my parent's have to share a room, but they gave me one all by myself. They know a little man's gotta have his privacy.

So far, I've been crying a little bit, but not a lot. Mom and my Grandmas calm me down pretty well when I get upset. There's just so much new stuff I see all the time. Like everything! I like to eat a lot and my Mom keeps me good and fed. She's a pretty awesome lady. Here's a picure of her today at the hospital. My Dad's ok, but he's not really as good as my Mom. He said he can't give me any food yet, but I think he might just be holding out on me. I did show him my crazy wrestling skills and pin him down on the couch for a couple hours at the hospital.

All in all, life is pretty good...at least both days so far. I want to thank everyone for all the cool stuff in my room. As a last photo op, here is me strapped in my carseat wearing my fleece lion outfit. It was my very first time wearing anything other than my hospital shirt. I felt kind of urban so I threw up some signs to my peeps. What up yo!

P.S.: I might only be two days old, but did you notice I know how to use a semicolon? That's right:).

Halloween

As you could probably surmise, I have spent my 27 Halloweens in a variety of places and a variety of costumes. This year perhaps wins the "Best Costume Ever" award. Outshining Elvis, a Barrel of Toxic Waste, a Librarian (Tony's request... like you needed to know that), many witches, Madonna, 80's Career Barbie, and more, I give you the grown-up version of what our baby would be like if we actually named him or her Cletus:

Yes, that's me on the left, complete with PBR Tall (that my friend Sheran drank for me) and AC/DC tattoo. As you can see, Tony did not let me go out of the house alone in this getup, but he also refused to go with me. Hmm. I know you can't tell from the photo, but I have enough makeup on to give me a five o'clock shadow and a happy trail up my exposed belly. I had more strangers take photos of me than ever before on Halloween and lots of compliments. Really, it comes down to working with what you've got, and what I've got is a large belly. So, I guess you could say that for Halloween, I was a hick and the baby was a beer gut. Good thing the Boobs of Fury are prominent enough that no one actually mistook me for a dude ;-)

Where did we go dressed like crazies, you might ask? Why, the local theatre for the annual showing of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," of course. And let me assure you, we were tamely dressed compared to some...