In the immortal words of great sages, Salt n Pepa, I pushed it real good... and out came Isaac Evans Roy, weighing in at 7 lbs and 9 oz, on July 7th at 3 am. I haven't slept since, so I am extremely grateful and would like to give a HUGE shout out to all the wonderful peeps who are filling in for me while I'm on leave. I'll be returning in about a month after I figure this parenting thing out (HA!), but until then I hope you all enjoy the smorgasbord of blogging variety our superpals keep bringing to DC. They rock! Now, on to da bebe:
That's wee baby Ike at one week old, striking a hammy pose for the camera. Don't be fooled by his sweetness -- kid has lungs like an opera singer and can out projectile-vomit Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
Here he is, "smiling" while busting out a poop sandwich on Daddy's lap. Better Daddy than me.
In other news, tomorrow is my birthday, whereupon I shall turn a very palindromic 33 (yes, I am older than dirt). Normally, I would go out a' drinking on the town with the likes of Karly and friends, but this year will probably be different.
This year, I've got a new drinking buddy.