The Psychedelic Furs were right...

...when they sang that girls are pretty in pink. But come on folks, enough is enough...That's right, I've only been home a week and I'm already being inundated with pink everything. I know I'm a girl. I've even heard that pink is the new black. I get it. But the simple fact of the matter is that a girl can only wear the same color so many days in a row without looking like she's wearing the same thing everyday. Haven't you all seen Sex in The City? It's a basic rule of fashion that you alternate colors. I don't care what Mary Kay has to say about it.
So people, please, even though I am pretty in pink and appreciate that you all love me so much and love buying girl things, I'm not Molly Ringwald and I would love some items in another color - perhaps even on the other side of the color wheel with a Tonka truck or something on it for good measure?

And props to those of you who appreciate the 80's reference. Maybe my parents are raising me right after all...

My first skin flick

Hey!!! I'm here. I came on October 16 at 6:21 pm. My mom keeps calling me a butterball because I was 8 pounds, three ounces and only 18 inches long. What did she expect? She's only 65 inches long and not much of that is in the middle!!! That's me up there in the video. Thanks, dad, for making my first skin flick just moments after my first breaths. Paris Hilton's got nothing on me!!!

You might have heard there was a lot of hoopla surrounding my arrival. I really didn't want to come out but they made me. First they tried drugging my mother but I wouldn't budge. Have you ever seen the width of a size four pelvis? You wouldn't want to stick your perfectly round head and flat ears in there either!!! So I wouldn't. Yep, I stood my ground for 18 hours. Who says Libras can't be stubborn? Maybe I'll grow up to be one of those crazy Greenpeace women tied to an old growth tree someday.

In the end they had to cut mom open and lift me out. Dad watched. I saw him first. He needed a shave but otherwise looked pretty happy to see me. Did you know he's bald? I never knew that. He was the first to tell me I was a girl. Of course, I already knew that.

I spent the first couple of nights with mom in the hospital then I got a fever and the doctors took me away to a place with really tiny babies in incubators. I think they wanted to make me feel fat or lucky or something. It worked. They poked and prodded and couldn't find anything wrong with me so I finally got to come home yesterday. My parents just stared at me so I toyed with them a bit - testing different cries, teaching them that I don't like a wet diaper and that when I want milk, I want it NOW. I also taught them I like to be held a lot and that if they do everything I tell them to I will reward them with three hours of silence.

Finally, much to my relief, I was not named Lentil Bean. They keep calling me that, but I saw them write down Sarah Addison McQuillen on the birth certificate. I heard that Sarah means "Princess" and Addison means "Awesome" so I'm thinking of changing the blog name to The Adventures of Princess Awesome. What do you think?

Almost there

So my mom was at the doctor's office the other day and I overheard the doctor tell her about two or three more weeks. That was after the doctor rudely poked me in the head and said, "Well, that's the head - in position but still a bit high". Duh. That's my job, isn't it? To head south, face down, listen for the screaming, avoid forceps and vacuums, and search for the light? It just took me a while to get my foot out of my mom's ribcage and start the migration...They really don't give me enough credit - it's as if they all think I'm just sitting in here freeloading while my mom does all the work. It's tough to flip around inside a person who grunts at the slightest poke to an organ or nerve then push your way past a bladder and some other funny smelling stuff.

In other news: While we were at the doctor's office I had a little chat with another IU (in utero), as we call ourselves. This chick was torturing her mother by hanging out longer than expected. She told me she was already about 9 pounds and going to hang on another week or so and that maybe we'd see each other on the outside in a couple of weeks. Her theory is that the longer you stay in, the more happy your parents are to see you when you get out. I don't know about that because my mom told me if I went past Halloween I'd be grounded for life, whatever that means. Still, it's getting cramped and boring in here. Making mom pee herself at Home Depot has lost it's charm and she seems to have accepted sleeplessness so that's no fun either. I'm thinking two weeks would be fine with me.