Wow. That's pretty much all I can say right now. Wow. It does quite accurately sum up the feeling/experience/list of priorities I have in front of me right now. He's also really cute. There. THAT'S all I can say.
(Apparently not) It's daunting, to be sure, but in a good way. It's a nice feeling to know, or at least assume/hope, that you're actively succeeding at something on an hour-by-hour, day-by-day basis. Yes... he IS still alive! And still really cute.
Speaking of which, I'm convinced there is some pheromone he secretes. Well, there're LOTS of things he appears to be (and smells of) secreting–but even if he's not as cute as I'm sure he is (he really is!), this pheromone requires me to think that. And likely for the sole reason of making sure I don't throttle him (or his mum) when sleep deprivation hits its peak and I hit a wall of what-the-fuck-did-I-get-myself-into. Then you look into his eyes, and the ever-tearing eyes of his mum, and you know it's all worth it.
So far so good.
Proud parents Adrienne and Mike are excited to announce the birth of their son, Fynn Michael Connell, in Toronto at St. Michael's Hospital, New Year's Day, 2009 at 12:21 p.m., weighing in at eight pounds. First grandchild for Gloria and Mike Boersma, and sixth to Barbara and Bruce Connell; nephew to Chris Boersma, Sandy (Scott Thompson) and Annie (Dave Aston) Connell, and cousin to Emily, Mary and Matthew Thompson, Kieran and Ethan Aston.