Slow is a four-letter word

Slow sips of water. Slow trips to the bathroom and up and down the stairs. Slow, small bites of food. I'm trying to take it slow and easy. After all, I am recovering from the equivalent of a 50-mile hike in one day. I start the day with good intentions -- eating slowly, walking slowly, not bending and lifting too much --but by day's end, I've managed to wear myself out. I'm not very good at this slow thing.

Our first week with Danny was full of ups and downs. Jim and I both managed to catch a stomach virus. Jim had it Tuesday and I had it with a vengence on Wednesday night. I was throwing up constantly and trying to take care of a baby. Thank God my mother was there. It was the worst night of my life (and that's saying a lot for a woman who just endured 40 hours of labor largely unmedicated).

But we are learning some funny things about our son. Such as:

• He sucks his index finger, just like his father did as a baby.


• He HATES the vibrating seat.


• He likes to be held so he can see your face.


• He enjoys my John Denver, Cat Stevens and Neil Young CDs.