And now I have a nephew

Little Nephew came into the world via scheduled c-section last Friday. I hadn’t expected to feel so moved by the whole experience. When Sister was wheeled back in after the surgery and this swaddled-up baby was placed in my arms, I honestly felt a little light-headed. I looked down at him and thought “you were just. inside. of my sister. 20 minutes ago. TWENTY MINUTES AGO. That is fah-reaky, little dude. Damn.”

I kept thinking of that scene from a Friends epsiode (I know, but bear with me here): Joey’s looking at Rachel’s newborn baby and he says in wonder “she looks so real!” So yeah, life’s amazing and crazy and I had the hardest time wrapping my head around it all on Friday. My sister created life. Twice. Also, two kids? Good luck, sis. Better you than me, y’knowwhatI’msayin’?

After having our 2 1/2 year-old niece all weekend, I have a newfound respect for you parents out there. At the same time that I kind of question your sanity for choosing to do this on a daily basis. I suppose I could be convinced (with enough alcohol and maybe an illegal substance or two) should Monk ever decide he’d like to become a father, but only because that way? Every time we were immersed in chaos and fatigue and playing the Who’s a Bigger Bitch game, I could just point to the gigantic sign I’d have commissioned for the kitchen wall that would read “Don’t look at me like that, this wasn’t MY idea. Fuckwit.”

I’m exhausted, y’all. Zonked. Knackered. Comatose. Mostly from all the little things involved in simply being around for a little one (who enjoys swinging from just about anything, the higher the better, and launching herself headfirst at her uncle), but also because the child woke us up at 3:30 in the morning today. We let her curl up with us (and two thirds of the canine club) for the rest of the “night” until the alarm went off two hours later; Monk and I were the only ones in the room unable to return to sleep. I may have to pull a Costanza in a little bit, before I slide out of my chair in a puddle of exhaustion.

Additionally, fatigue proves once again to be my kryptonite, as I seem to have left my wallet Somewhere That is Not Here. I had planned to run out for veggie dip to go with my heaping plate of carrots and broccoli. But alas, no wallet = no dip. And no dip = no carrots and broccoli, because we all know the vegetables are just stand-ins for a spoon with which to inhale gallons-o’-dip. Plain raw vegetables? Brotha, please. I tried to snack on some unadorned carrots earlier as I have no other food in the office today, but there’s something wrong with them. I suspect they are Big Carrots masquerading as Baby Carrots, because they are kind of bitter (with good reason, not being as popular as their cousin, Baby Carrot. God, I need some sleep). Dip would help obliterate the wrongness, but I think we’re all familiar with the No Dip Debacle so let’s move on.

I’m exhausted and starving. If I pass out from hunger, I suppose it could be looked at as a two birds, one stone sort of thing.

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