Stalkers!

Finally, you can stop hitting F5. I am updating. I'm well aware that you all have nothing better to do that sit in front of your computers and wait for new pictures of my precious, sweet, perfect-in-every-way son. You should all join the Peace Corps or something... better yet, take up clogging.

But I SUPPOSE, since I've got new pictures, I can share them.

First, we took him to the doctor on Monday, for a routine well baby check. He's done the typical weight loss thing and was down to 6 pounds 2 ounces. They're not concerned, but gosh almighty, he's a tiny thing. And I was having a hard time expressing that in pictures. So, I took this one:
This is NOT trick photography. And no, I do not have disproportionately large hands for my body. He's just THAT small.

Also note that the bright yellow sleeper he has on is super small. The smallest piece of newborn clothes we own. We bought it at the D.I. when we were expecting Abbie. Mostly as a joke. Each of our kids have worn it. I'd fish out pictures of each of them wearing it, but that will be another post. Possibly.

And some more traditional "newborn" studio type portraits.


My friends, check out those fuzzy shoulders. He's a total beast.
And finally:
Looking ever so peaceful.

Pardon me.

You're interrupting my babymoon. I'm extremely busy over here.

Doing things like:
Sniffing him 43 times per hour. Very time consuming. I have to memorize his scent. He, on the other hand, has mine down already.


Lamenting his sad cowlicks. Two right in front, two more at the back/bottom. Poor kid gets that from me. We're (the Solters) a unruly-haired bunch. Just check out Jenny's kid if you need further proof.

Kissing those LIPS.
Oh my goodness, those delicious lips.

And if you need further proof that he's a total white-boy:

No, sorry. He doesn't really look like Matt.

FINALLY!

Flashback.

So, there's this:
Which I absolutely adore. And which triggered in me, the memory of a photograph. Taken nearly 27 years ago...

Yes, that is my mother. With 4 of her 5 children (at the time). Yes, that's me on the left. Then David, Andrew and my younger brother Matt. My mom was, I believe, 28 at the time. I am 28 now. Doesn't she look amazing?

There is also this:
Which, my word, doesn't that little girl look cute with her chubby thumb in her mouth? Kinda cute like this also thumbsucker:
Sigh.

And since I know you're all dying to get a proper look at the new kid.

And with eyes open. (Don't let this fool you, this kid is shrimpy looking!)
I have a ton more, but I'll have to do a slideshow or something soon.

I just love an obedient child.

If only all my children were as obedient as Lucas.

What's that? You didn't get the memo? Oh sorry. I should have warned you to keep your eyes over there.

Lucas Adam was born on April 3 at 6:43am. A short 9 hours after my letter of complaint. Those are the kind of results I've been longing for!

He was 6 pounds 10 ounces and 20 inches long. I'll have more details later, but for now be sure to check the memo for pictures and enjoy these.

Dear Unborn Child-

Please. I'm begging you. I'm desperate. I really am done with this whole production known widely as "Pregnancy: Hell on Earth." Don't you feel cramped in there? Wouldn't you like to get some fresh air?

See, it's not really the kicking and the wiggling that I mind. It's the grinding sciatica and disfiguredly swollen ankles that bug. Also, I'm not looking so hot, lately. Whale-sized is kindof looked down upon out here.

I suppose I could thank you for the intensely strange urge to clean and purge my house of all things "dirt," but it does make it difficult on your brother and sisters as they are intensely keen on dirt. Also, I feel I should be allowed to draw the line on this "nesting" thing. I mean, dreaming up things for me to clean is a bit much, eh? Can we please go back to the bizarre dreams about dog-fighting and mail order husbands?

I've done as much as I can think of to encourage your early arrival. All the walking in the world, carrying heavy furniture, and jumping up and down just hasn't been enough, eh? I really and truly just can't fathom the thought of another 2 weeks. Please, I'm desperate.

Love,
Your Mother - the one doing squats.

P.S. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow, you'd better be making some "headway" or your name is MUD!