Elliott is certifiably the most chill baby ever, and he is well-liked by all the nurses here at Children's. Also well-liked? His BabyLegs. And yes, these are the exact ones he's wearing.
With a complimentary light orange hospitable gown.
And why do I keep saying hospitable when that is CLEARLY not what I mean? Because it's fun, that's why, and I've been sitting around like a bum all day, feeding my sweet babe and eating foodstuffs and drinking barely palatable coffee. Also watching trashy TV (for example Millionaire Matchmaker. Barf.)
Elliott is doing well, eating and sleeping and smiling at me when he remembers that my face corresponds with the boobies he loves so well. My good friend Heather (hi, Heather!) came up to visit today, and brought me clean pants and shampoo and my camera (thanks, Heather!). But no pics of Elliott smiling. Of course.
Thanks for your thoughts and prayers and well-wishes. My phone didn't receive all the tweets tweeted in my direction, so if I didn't respond to you, don't think I ignored you on purpose. I really appreciate all the messages, received or stored up for me on Twitter, as I've been here with Elliott all by my lonesome for this whole time.
Don't hate on The Mister, he had an enormously huge concert to mix this weekend, far away, with an enormously huge paycheck attached to it, so I made him stay there.
It's been nice to feel the love.
We hope to be discharged Sunday night if nothing yucky shows up in the petri dishes.