My Tired Butt Can’t Keep Up
I know you all are way beyond “winners” and “losers” in the baby roulette, but I figure that I’m a person that finishes things, so here goes.
Special, extra warm thanks to for compiling the stats. Were it not for her, I’d say you were ALL big winners, and who likes competition anyway? But since she had the heart to figure it all out for me, you guys are now welcome to rub each others’ noses in how good or bad you are at making random guesses work for you.
In the date department, wins the big prize! She was only four hours off, and were it not for the little dickens crooking his neck on the way out, she might have hit the numbers even closer! When I was in labor (an apt term if ever there was) we definitely thought he was a “16th” baby. By the time he was hatched, I was so delirious I had to ask what day his birthday was. I had no idea.
For weight, my man hit it like a champ: 7 lbs. 13 oz. To the ounce! It must be because the last time I saw him, he was weighing me with his eyes just like lumber: “Oh my god, you’re huge!”
And lastly, wins the golden wreath for length at 20 inches. Twenty little tiny inches, but so much charm packed into every cell! But this also means his own mother didn’t get one guess right! Is this a sign that I should fork the kid over to one of you, who seem more in touch with his stats pre-bun-arrival than me?
You can’t have him. So there.
Anyhoo, he’s already plumping up, and he’s looking quite different from the hatchling baby he was just a few scant days ago. [Jewish mother] Oh woe, where did the time go? [/Jewish mother].
So thanks for amusing me in my time of need, and for those of you who were tap-dancing to Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” as a form of baby-out dance back when I needed you so, my sincerest gratitude. It was a team effort, and we brought him through safely! Go Team Bun!
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