Oh and by the way.

I have been meaning to write about my new baby brother. I think I mentioned him earlier but he has not had a blog all his own. I have been trying to think of something to say about him. What do you say about you first brother? I could go on about the baby things but they are not all that new to me. I remember three other babies. They all make adorable little noises and faces and they mess their diapers and nurse and sleep for most of the day. Not that every baby isn't a miracle that is new and beautiful but I don't think I need to describe his daily activities for all and sundry. He does normal baby things.
I could talk about how I am feeling about having a brother. I have four wonderful sisters. In the past we've proudly boasted of our brother-less state. Our family had an identity of having no boys and no regrets. During the pregnancy we were a bit defiant. Why would God give us a boy when we do so well with girls. Maleny said that if it was a boy we had to send it back. I even said having a boy in the house would make me all the more anxious to move out. (Which is something I will need some pushing to pursue.) Now that he is here I don't mind so much. He's a baby, which is what we wanted. Even Maleny said that he was exactly what she wanted, if not what she expected. I thought we should have named him Isaac because of all the laughter when we found out. But dad said this issue was a non-negotiable. I guess St. Isaac is his patron along with St. Lawrence (patron of comedians, on whose feast day our David was born) But now that the shock has worn off we are all falling back into our natural family routine. Only with a baby brother. It's not that much different yet. I guess we're in for an adventure when he gets a little older, or so all our acquaintances have been eager to remind us. "You're gonna have to redefine everything you thought was normal." A dear friend gleefully informed us. Our one male cousin was playing cool and disinterested. "I'm planning on ignoring him till he's old enough to play video games." My mother was indignant at this comment. "It's just a boy thing." My aunt assured her. We're not looking forward to all the "boy things." Mom says most of that is just bad behavior and she will tolerate none of it. There have been all sorts of comments about what sort of psychological problems a boy raise in a house of five girls will have to face. "Poor kid." is probably the most repeated phrase. Just the way "Your poor dad!" used to be when we told people that we had five girls and no boys. Some one today commented on David's tendency to sleep with half open eyes. "With five sisters, he's gonna have to sleep with one eye open." This makes no sense to me. What terrible things are the expecting us girls to do to him? It makes me wonder if they know us very well. Honestly now! I don't think it would take a deep acquaintance with my sister and I to deduce that we are not particularly pugnacious. Most of us treat each other with a decent amount of respect and have no intention of picking on any one. We're all different enough so that we are either all normal or all oddballs in one way or another. We just have better things to do than harass each other about it. Our evilest plots for David involve teaching him how to swing dance and getting him into theater because there are simply not enough boys in the world who know how to sing and dance. Maybe this sounds like torture to some people but he can hardly escape being musically inclined. He comes from a family of musicians. Dad's side of the family is incredibly musical. If he doesn't get it in the genetics, he will get it in his upbringing. In the average day he hears folk music, contemporary christian rock or folk rock, classical flute music, broadway show tunes pounded on the piano along with some classical pieces, all of us singing along to all of the above plus some a cappella gregorian chant and medieval polyphony. And we dance with him all day long. Poor kid. Some one call child protective agency!
Well, in any case. I'd like to introduce you to my brother: David Francis.
Here he is being wonder full, looking over my sister C.C.'s shoulder. Odd looking child. Skinny and big eyed. He looks like a staving child from a third world country. If only he wasn't so adorable when he cried he would get his dinner a heck of a lot faster. :P