First night

So, we made it through our first night without any major problems. Sam eats pretty well, and then sleeps for a long time (much like his father)
Lily, on the other hand, ate well the first time, but has been kinda fussy. She does sleep pretty soundly, though… and poops extremely well (also, much like her father)

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Everyone’s asleep…

There aren’t words to describe the feelings you get looking at your children sleeping for the first time. The wonder of it all, and the sense of helplessness you have… they are full of possibilities, both good and bad. Will they be the next Mozart, or Bush? What will they do with their lives, and will they be happy?

As soon as they showed them to us in the operating room, I knew they were ours. I could just tell. They seemed like… us. And I immediately knew that my job was to do everything I could to help them to be happy, well-adjusted, creative, people.

After changing them, of course…




Janine and the kids (sounds like a band…)

Sam’s first bath…

…and Lily’s.

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Intoducing…

Lillian McKenna Gauss

And, Samuel Hardin Gauss

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I didn’t know we get to dress up!

I look good…

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It’s go time!!

They’re wheeling her off now… I’ll be in in just a few minutes.

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Still waiting…

So, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law decided to come visit and perhaps play some cards…

Oh, yea. It’s gonna be a while…

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Just relaxing…

Just waiting for the nurse to put the IV in.

…and here they are.

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We’re going to miss our connection…

So, it looks like we’re going to be delayed for a while… evidently due to too much traffic (darn emergency c-sections) Kinda reminds me of O’Hare airport.

At least we’re not sitting out on the Tarmac.
Or maybe we are…

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Today’s the day!!

So, here we are… Just about to go to the hospital. Janine looks beautiful. I’m a bit of a wreck…

This is the last photo of my “consolidated, portable, easy-to-manage” family.

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Apology…

I would sincerely like to apologize to the people of Denmark for this blog’s previous post. 

It was not my intention to blame Denmark for the manufacturer’s inability to document properly, nor to package in such a way as to make it impossible for even someone of genius-level intelligence to figure out why bar A doesn’t fit in slot B when it obviously goes there according to the picture on the front of the box. No matter what your wife says.

It was also not my intention to lump all the people of Denmark into a category normally reserved for sex offenders and people who talk in the theatre.

Only some of them. The ones who make child seats and strollers.

Sorry.

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