Lydia Goes to See the Troll

Big Ern's Grandparents were still in town. This was a big day for all three of them because they agreed to do some babysitting duty.

So as I've mentioned previously, I saw an ad for a production of Lydia and the Troll while waiting for our food at Communion before Ernie was born. The blurb was uncomfortably close to home: "Singer-songwriter Lydia feels held back. Maybe it's writer's block, maybe it's her not-so-perfect boyfriend. But when a mysterious stranger offers her the chance to change her life, she may have to sacrifice more than she imagined for a new start." We referred to Ernie as "the Troll" while we waited for all his tests to tell us he was healthy and so forth.

The Seattle Rep was kind of a fun space and was entertaining on its own.

One of my hobbies when I'm not with Ernie is to look at the disgusting number of photos I've taken of Ernie. In my defense he's always moving around so each picture is different.

The show was kind of cool and high tech. The Troll in the show's deal is that they look like a big nasty troll, but they can sort of wear the body of another person. So this troll has been stealing the bodies of artists for hundreds of years. She swaps with Lydia but Lydia is smart enough to figure out how to swap back. It ends with a chase scene and the sun comes up and turns the troll to stone under the bridge in Fremont where a famous troll statue now sits. I thought that was a cool Seattle culture tie-in. I liked the show.

Ernie's First Bar

Our philosophy with raising lil Ern Dawg is that we want to bring him along on our life journey, not completely change our lives for him. So we wanted to get him out and about as soon as possible.

Our big first step social outing was taking Ernie to check out the little bar in our local QFC grocery store. We introduced him to our friends Miriam and Michael.

He did very well.

Baby Check Out Drama

Our hospital room had a sign on it that check out was supposed to be at 11am. We weren't able to escape this dungeon until about 6pm. We had to get cleared for parole by a lactation consultant, pediatrician, OB/GYN, and who knows who else. We had a whole check list of fun.

One of my missions was to get all of Lydia's prescriptions rounded up. The first thing I did was go the pharmacy. The process was super easy, and the bill was like 15 cents after insurance. One of the things I was picking up was oxycodone which they surprisingly just handed me without asking for identification or anything. Easy peasy. I then went to a different wing of the hospital to pick up our prescription for donated breast milk. They were a bit rude, and insisted that I needed the physical paper prescription that the doctor had signed because this particular office had not yet discovered computers. Cool. So I made the long journey back to the room, got the paper, and walked back to the dumb breast milk store. They were closed. Very cool. When we were about to walk out the door someone mentioned our lack of breast milk and the nurse called one of the lactation people who were able to key in to the dumb place and get us the milk. Like do that in the first place next time, thanks.

The milk was sort of an insurance policy in case Ernie lost more birth weight. I guess it's normal for babies to initially lose weight so this was just a precaution. Do not be alarmed.

Lydia turned on the milk faucets just in time.

Ernie was excited to wear his first clothes.

I think I had thought that I was going to be terrified to drive my newborn around, but it was so much of a pain to get to this first ride that I was just excited to leave the hospital. Luckily he seems to like his car seat and riding in cars so he wasn't back there screaming the whole time.

Our friends Gabby and Derek announced that they are expecting twins. I'm impressed by people that have multiple babies... this is plenty difficult and stressful with just one at a time.

One of our finals milestones at the hospital was the nurse cutting off Ernie's little ankle bracelet that would set off an alarm if anyone tried to steal him. Speaking of which, every time the nurse came in, she would check Lydia's bracelet to make sure it matched Ernie's. Great. Some months later Lydia said that anytime there was a new nurse on shift and I was out of the room, they would ask her if she felt safe with me. I understand the reasoning for it I guess but I kind of felt hurt by that.

When we got Ernie home he didn't say much but I got the feeling he was pretty impressed with the decor.

"Ok, dad. What are we going to do for the next 18 years?"

A Big Decision to Make

Our couple of days in the hospital after Ernie was born were a mixed bag. On one hand I was enjoying my time with my new son, and I was also learning how to take care of him from the nurses. The swaddling was a skill I never really picked up very well. I couldn't do it as well as the nurses and he would keep wiggling out of it. Once that happened he would startle himself while sleeping and then start screaming. The whole startle reflex to me is strange. I wonder what if any purpose it has or if it's just his brain learning how to brain.

The downside was that it was difficult for any of the three of us to get any sleep because there was an endless parade of staff coming in, talking loudly, messing with Ernie and doing tests on him until he screamed. Not having control of our space was getting very old and we were looking forward to going home.

A roaming photographer barged in and asked us if we wanted some pictures of Ernie taken. Ernie was on his second day of life and we hadn't had any professional shots done of him since yesterday so of course we said yes. She immediately starts moving our luggage and other belongings around, without asking, to set up her shots. Annoying, but ok. Then a pediatrician came in yapping about something official, and while that was happening someone from the cafeteria came in to ask Lydia's order for lunch. And they're all talking to us at the same time, not seeming to understand how stressful this all is. I believe I decided that the food person was bottom of the pecking order so I told them to go sit on a spoon and then come back later.

Speaking of the cafeteria people, they were funny because they kept bringing big trays of food for Lydia. There's very little counter space in the room so after a few meals the trays started piling up. Annoyed, the next time they came in to bring something I asked them to take away the previous trays. They said that they can't, and that once they've brought in a tray it becomes like medical waste and only a nurse can dispose of it. Weird but I guess I understand. If we had ebola or something they wouldn't want the gophers to catch it.

I thought that the new Ernie pics turned out pretty well so I guess it was worth the stress.

He's a pretty handsome, chunky little man with a nice head of hair, if I do say so myself.

I'm kind of amazed by this whole umbilical cord situation. It seems kind of like magic that this giant literal lifeline meat cord that jacks right into your organs can just be clamped and cut off, then just shrivels up and falls off shortly afterward. Then it just heals up no problem and you walk around with a big hole in your stomach as a reminder for the rest of your life.

A random person came in and did a hearing test that involved running a white noise machine. When she was finished and turned it off, Ernie was not pleased and started crying. So thereafter we ran a white noise speaker in his aquarium while he slept.

The moments when he was awake and not screaming were rare and precious. Hello roommate.

Lydia and Ernie having a little conversation about wombs or something.

Because we are not married I was invited to do some amusing paperwork claiming Ernie. I was flattered but I really should run this by my lawyer first.

There's some real complicated Jerry Springer stuff going on here that I'm glad I'm not a party to. Did your husband have a twin that may be the actual father but he is denying parentage? If so check box 45a.

I was amused by the very specific interest in what flavor of Hispanic I might be. You checked the White box but are we talking like German white or like Finnish fell into a bucket of bleach white?

My paperwork did say I have a few months to rescind my parentage declaration so I told Ernie he better be on this best behavior.