The record shall be called “Skaggs Creek.”
1. “Giving Up,” Daniel Pike
2. “Sunny Morning,” Daniel Pike
3. “Buck Up, Back Out,” Daniel Pike
4. “You’d Be Wrong,” Daniel Pike
5. “Better Offer,” Daniel Pike
6. “The Strangest Year,” Daniel Pike
7. “082908,” Daniel Pike
8. “Loaded Guns,” Daniel Pike
9. “Wooden Boxes,” Daniel Pike
10. “On a Sunday,” Daniel Pike
Covers
“Avenues,” Whiskeytown
“Still Be Around,” Uncle Tupelo
“Two Days in February,” Goo Goo Dolls
Welcome back everyone. First, apologies for not having any new photos to share – I realize those are the main attractions offered by this blog, but as the family has fallen into a sort of routine over the past few days, the camera has been less of a priority. Years from now, I’m sure we’ll regret not snapping as many shots as time would allow. Wow, simply typing that sentence inspires me to begin documenting again.
Anyway, I’m writing from work, my first Friday night in the office since Anne Rhoades was born. It’s tough to be away from home at night – tougher than I thought it would be – because I’ve grown quite fond of whiling away the evening hours with Amy and Girly, which for some reason is the nickname I’ve suddenly started using for the baby. (Although it’s better than “Kitty.” Explanation: I have a ridiculous habit of wandering around the house and addressing my pointless pronouncements to our cat, Battier. For instance, I might walk into the TV room and say, “Kitty, I need new guitar strings.” It happens so often that for the first few days of Anne Rhoades’ life, I found myself inadvertently calling the baby “Kitty” when making random announcements. It’s been corrected.)
In any event, Kitt– eh, Girly, has been performing nicely in her role as a sleeping, eating and crapping machine. There’s a real level of excitement when she breaks from this cycle and graces us with an hour or so of pleasant liveliness. Today, for example, she engaged in a bit of hilarious kicking and gyrating as I flipped through the digital music channels on cable. This thrills me completely, because her innate musicianship means she’ll soon be ready for the intense mandolin lessons I’ve planned. On the other hand, she did sleep through the final few episodes of “The Wire,” which means two things: 1) Her taste in television isn’t fully refined, and 2) I now have an excuse to watch the entire series again once she’s old enough to handle adult themes.
Seriously, though, fatherhood so far is even more amazing and rewarding than even I expected, although I know the really good – and really hard – parts are yet to come. I’m sure Amy feels the same way. It’s fun to eagerly anticipate each day in a way I’ve never experienced before, and I only hope that we’re up to the task of being good parents for Girly.
It’s Day Six of the Great Parenthood Experiment, and so far all’s good. It’s pretty incredible each day to watch Anne Rhoades gradually change. She looks less like a newborn and more like a real person each morning, she’s increasingly more aware of her surroundings, and she’s already learned that her dad is the funniest person she’s ever met.
She’s made two excursions in recent days with Mom and MeMa Sittler. On Tuesday, Dad’s first day back at work, she traveled to K-Mart, which I consider a perfectly appropriate first destination for a native of small-town Kentucky. On Wednesday she went to the doctor, who reconfirmed her parents’ belief that she’s the most flawless child ever birthed (those weren’t Doc’s exact words, but I won’t quibble over semantics). Anne Rhoades now weighs a full seven pounds, which means two things: 1) She’s eating well and has reclaimed her birth weight plus a couple of ounces, and 2) she seems fully capable of the rapid weight gain for which many blood members of the Pike family are known.
Meanwhile, life’s good. Mom is recovering nicely, losing weight and gathering momentum each day. Baby’s sleeping like a champion, and Dad’s wishing he didn’t have to fool with work ever again, but understands that someone has to earn some money.
Below are a couple photos. First is the result of Tuesday night’s bath. There was a time when I would have vomited at the thought of dressing a baby as a duck. My, how thoughts quickly change. Second is Anne Rhoades heading out the door Wednesday morning for the doctor’s office.
One final note: Kudos to Uncle David Pike, who astutely noted that Anne Rhoades’ official birth time of 1:04 nicely mirrors one of the cornerstone moments in recent Pike history. The final score of the 1992 “Christian Laettner” game was Duke 104, Kentucky 103, meaning Anne Rhoades is a born Blue Devil and is eager to experience all the glory and joy that comes from Duke loyalty.
Welcome back, folks. The Pikes are now home, and Anne Rhoades is getting acquainted with her new digs.
Below are a handful of new photos – Anne Rhoades with each grandparent, and then a shot of Anne Rhoades in her bassinet, which will be her short-term bed before upgrading to the crib and full nursery.
Good Saturday morning everyone. It certainly is that around here, despite the fact the Pikes are still held captive at The Medical Center. Amy’s carrying on beautifully, chattering on the phone and learning which positions are – and are not – comfortable, now that soreness from Friday’s ordeal has begun to set in.
Fully exhausted last night, we took the advice of several folks and allowed the hospital nursery to keep an eye on the little girl overnight. It was tough to watch an unfamiliar nurse wheel her away, but then we collapsed and cherished the silence. In fact, I’m writing this at about 8:45 on Saturday morning, and we still haven’t seen Anne Rhoades except through the nursery windows. Amy called and asked for her about an hour ago, but the pediatrician hasn’t yet come around, and the doc apparently wants to take another look at her before sending her back to us. No problem, we don’t think, but Amy’s getting a little antsy, naturally.
Once she comes back around, we’ll take more pictures and post them here. We plan to just hang around the hospital today and allow folks to wait on us hand and foot, so I should have plenty of time to add some stuff later. And I’ve shot some video of the little girl, so I’ll see if I can’t figure out how to get that up here later.
Well, mom and dad are nearly beaten, but everyone’s doing well. Heaven knows what to write about this right now…I’m too fried to really concentrate. Biggest day of our lives? Of course, but how do you adequately condense such a thing into words? Especially after getting up at 4:30 a.m.? I won’t even try at the moment.
Before going much further, we must express our absolute gratitude to all the friends and family who have sent their thoughts and prayers. We appreciate it more than you know, and we are eager to introduce Anne Rhoades to all the people who have been so important and special in our lives.
Amy’s doing fine and her spirits are impossibly and unexpectedly high considering the activities she’s been involved in today. In, fact she is far more coherent than me at the moment. (The epidural is a miracle procedure, apparently, because four hours later Amy’s still going strong with no pain). My job – which I performed beautifully, of course – was ludicrously simple, consisting only of rubbing Amy where directed and of predicting when I should and should not open my mouth. But Amy’s the real champion. I have no idea how women do this; I once endured an extremely, well, “personal” surgery, but my agony never approached what Amy experienced at times before receiving the pain medication.
I’ll write more tomorrow, once our early thoughts have developed. For now, here’s a selection of the first photos of our little girl – the finest newborn in all history, as far as we’re concerned.
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