Misbehaving Sons

Today was the only day we had told Baby C not to arrive. I reminded him last night before we went to sleep that today was the day Dr. Deem was working at the clinic in Granbury, so we needed him to hang on for at least a day.

I'm going to tell the doctor to spank his little hiney when he finally shows up.

Kari's progressing well. I think she's trying to be like the Jewish women in Moses day who were "vigorous" and gave birth in a hurry. But Big Mama and Fat Boy Freeland just called and told Kari to cross her legs so they can be here when he arrives.

For those of you worried that I'm missing the moment of the birth while I'm blogging, rest assured that my updates are strategically timed and okayed by Kari. The first was while she was getting the IV - the second was while she was getting the epidural. Now, she's trying to take a nap. (Those of you who know me know why my timing blog entries around the parts involving needles are strategic).

Kari says "hey," and that there's a reason they call it "labor" rather than "picnic." She also thinks that the epidural is one of God's greatest inventions.