My wife, she has a big heart. Everyone comes to her for help and support and advice. So she is always helping people. She is always having to do something for someone else. That's just my wife.
(Plus, she has huge titties.)
I was at work when she said that she was sending the kids home. Including young, breast-fed, 11-month-old Maxwell.
This would be my first night alone with my son.
See, the kid breast feeds. He wakes up a couple of times at night. Sure he does, like any little baby does. But since he is almost exclusively breast fed he just crawls to his mommy's big titties and goes back to sleep.
I was nervous. And a little bit frightened.
But I did good.
Here are some pictures ...
The first one is of my dog Johanna who, interestingly enough, was in labor ALONG WITH my sister-in-law. My dog won the baby contest and, amazingly, gave birth to a wolfpack of one. One dog. That's it. And look at this picture. It's like Jo-Jo is smiling with pride about her new puppy ...
And here is the meeting between the two boys ...
I'm proud of myself. I warmed up bottles at 2am for my crying son and successfully got him back to bed about five times that night. There were some bad moments, too, where I didn't know if I could do this. But I did. And I got him back to bed. And when he woke up in the morning he saw my face and smiled.
I am a dad.
And a pretty proud one, too.