Baby Willey & A Broken Toe?

Let's dispense with the raw data to start:

Liam Owen Willey
Born: August 26th, 2010
Weight: 7 Pounds, 7 Ounces
Length: 21 Inches
Detail: Full Head of Long Black Hair
Likes: Eating Constantly
Dislikes: Sleeping

If you did not already hear, my wife, Kristi, and I celebrated the recent arrival of our second son, Liam. I think it is fair to add that Emmett, our almost 3-year old, is celebrating Liam's arrival as well. Emmett, which is not a complete surprise to us given his personality, has embraced the role of "Big Brother" in the Willey home. Emmett gives Liam a pacifier when he cries, asks to hold him all the time, enjoys gently patting the top of his head when we snuggle together, and often reminds Kristi that Liam may, in fact, be hungry. As far as mom and dad are concerned, we are adjusting to the expansion of our immediate family - or at least as much as we can adjust given the fact that this marks the beginning of the second week of the school year. Sleep is no longer a luxury experienced, and given Liam's unique schedule, it is rare to find a time when mom and dad are awake at the same time. Nothing new to us, or to anyone else with children for that matter, but an adjustment all the same.

Now, to the broken toe...

If you haven't noticed me hobbling around or walking funny lately, I'm glad. I am working feverishly to hide the fact that I have a broken middle toe on my left foot - an injury obtained in the post-delivery room on the day in which Liam was born. Here's the story:

After a long day of delivery and everything else that is associated with having a child, Kristi and I were relocated to a post-delivery room at Fairview Southdale Hospital. Our accommodations were sufficient, and we began to prepare for our first round of guests which included Emmett with my parents. Emmett brought Kristi Sweet Martha's Cookies from the State Fair, and baby gifts were opened not only for Liam, but Emmett too. As it became time to leave, Emmett, to our surprise, did not want to go and began to cry. I walked him out to Grandma & Grandpa's car trying to console him as any non-mom could do, but as he drove off in his car seat, I could hear him sob through the windows of my parents moving car - a sound I will not forget for a long time.

To try and ease Emmett's mind, Kristi and I agreed to "Skype" Emmett later that night from our hospital room to say goodnight to him. For those of you who are not familiar, "Skyping" is like conducting a live video phone call through the Internet using your computer. As we prepared for the call, I slid into bed with Kristi and Liam and placed the call. This is where the drama really escalates.

As we began the call it was clear that Emmett was not himself. He was trying desperately to hold himself together, but unfortunately, he started to lose it. Kristi immediately felt that Emmett should not see her, and told me to get off of the bed, and fast! I jumped up with my laptop, proceeded to trip over a variety of cords connected to all sorts of medical equipment, and fell flat on my face throwing my laptop half-way across the hospital room. The crash was so loud that nurses came rushing into the room to see what was the matter. In the meantime, my computer was in pieces, leaving Emmett to wonder what on earth happened to his mom and dad. I pulled myself together and raced to call Emmett back as quickly as I could, and I was relieved to find that he was more curious as to what happened than alarmed. Thank goodness.

When I awoke the next morning, my toe throbbed and was a deep shade of purple. At this point in time, having the convenience of a ER a few floors beneath you was helpful. I disappeared for a few hours only to return to Kristi with X-rays of my broken toe, toes taped together, and a walking boot I am supposed to still be wearing right now. I quickly became the running joke of the "Birthplace", frequently hearing new nurses say, "Oh, you're the one with the broken toe!" Kristi's entirely accurate and insightful comment to many serves to close this story and has continually been, "He just couldn't let me have all of the attention for one minute."