I'm a daddy! (again!) *yawn* no, I'm not *yawn* tired.
There is nothing that can prepare you for the event of a new baby. Months of planning for the nursery, mounds of baby gifts from friends, neighbors and relatives, even prior experience with a new baby -- all nice to have, and all practically inconsequential to the arrival event itself.
For the men in the audience, if you haven't stayed by the side of your partner while she goes through labor and delivery, you are missing a spectacle of sheer awesomeness that is without parallel. I cannot count the number of times I was thinking "ohmygod! they're doing *what!?!?!* to my wife!?!?" all while putting on my calmest, most reassuring face... "honey, can I get you more water? maybe some ice cubes? how about diamond jewelry?" Try not to flinch or make a face when they bring out a needle the size of the alaskan pipeline to put into her back, I double dare you.
In some ways, medieval torture still bears a close resemblance to modern medical practices -- there is still substantial room for improvement in the process. I'm not saying that to knock modern medical practices though -- I can't even imagine what this would have been like "long ago" when I was born. (discussions with my mother-in-law suggest we've come a long ways). Even comparing the birth of my son (natural birth because he was too quick in coming for us to do an epidural) to the birth of my daughter (with epidural), it is night and day. I can see it in my wife. If you have a choice, take the drugs.
So what does this have to do with a chair? Pretty much everybody who has held the baby has ended up sitting at least briefly in my "easy chair" -- a recliner-rocker. Instant sleepy baby. (ok newborns are prone to that, but this even more so) this leaves me tired, happy, and camera-in-hand, sitting elsewhere. A small price to pay for the most beautiful girl in the world.
As some of you well know, sleep is precious, so off I go...
Merry christmas!
rootie