Jay McGavren's Journal

Decision tree...

Baby’s clothing, shat on: wash immediately Baby’s clothing, peed on: throw in hamper Baby’s clothing, spat up on: throw in hamper Adult’s clothing, shat on: wash immediately Adult’s clothing, peed on: throw in hamper Adult’s clothing, spat up on: continue wearing if < 10 CCs; you can't leave the house anyway

It’s 11 PM and I’m in the middle of work, with a one-week-old baby sleeping on my lap. I’m working now because I was unable to rouse myself before 1 in the afternoon, and I spent most of the day running around trying to take care of Diana (who has to spend all her time taking care of the baby).

Has this kid fucked with my schedule? Naaah…

Why did I let Archive set on my hard drive so long before checking them out? These are the most beautiful beats I’ve heard since Portishead.

Diana’s ob-gyn OKed our discharge this morning. We can take our time getting out the door though, so we’re building up the energy. (I’ve actually had it relatively easy, sleeping 4 hours at a stretch sometimes. Diana’s had to do feedings every 2-3 hours or so, on top of all the interruptions from hospital staff.)

The baby is adorable. When he was first born he did nothing but coo and whine. He cries more often now, but even then we get a grace period of grunts beforehand. He’s got a thin layer of blonde hair and (for now) deep blue eyes, with which he’ll gaze at you with an intensity you can’t help but grin at.

Katrina came over to help us move crap around and make room for baby furniture this weekend. Her daughter Madison is Lenny’s on-again/off-again “girlfriend” at preschool.

Well I guess they’re getting serious, because we learned that last week Lenny gave her a rock. (But of course, it was of the igneous variety.)