'Bout time.

So, if we're not facebook friends and you don't follow Joel's one-track Instagram feed, you might not be aware, but we figured that since we didn't have any really thrilling New Year's Eve plans that we'd go ahead and have this baby.

Eleanor Constance Loretta, 6 lbs 9 oz

I'd blog the whole thing chronologically, but you guys know how little the parents of newborns sleep (or you've read enough STFU Parents to know and also I'm putting all of you an alert to warn me when I become That Parent.  Cool?) so I'm a little scattered.

So let's just go with what I remember right now, which is that she was super-accommodating and came on New Year's Eve, so that I could go to All The Holiday Things without having to bring her and my huge, weird boobs (I have huge, weird boobs now) and my c-section incision and my inability to walk around gracefully.

She was pulled out squalling at 4:12 pm, so that everyone could come check her out and coo over her and still make their evening plans, but no one (not even me) had to get up at, like, 2 am to go into contractions or catch her or anything.

Coming on New Year's Eve also meant that Joel still had two days off school and could hang out with us in the hospital all day Sunday and then bring us home on Monday (ps: I would like to go on record saying that Joel has been amazing, and that you should all be so lucky).

Well done, El.  Please be this compliant when you are 15 and I want you to get your ass to school on time.