Well, home is different from the hospital. The beds are more comfortable, for one. On the other hand, the food, while marginally better than hospital food, doesn't magically arrive at your bedside.
But we are well and happy.
Jonathan likes Thomas, calls him either "the baby Thomas" or "my baby". He likes to "hold" him on the sofa and sing to him.
A friend of mine took Jonathan this morning to her house to play with her son while we went to the doc for a well baby appointment. Thomas has started to regain some weight, which is good and no one right now is worried about the jaundice. For those of you who know my history, you know this is a huge thing. Of course, his days and nights are mixed up. He sleeps all day from about 10 until 5 and then mostly wants to be awake all night for the same time frame, oh yes, and nurse all night. Bleck. 'Twould be fine if I could be on his schedule, but not with a toddler and not in the real world. Thomas nurses all the time. I won't bore you with the gory details. Suffice it to say, "Ouch."
We got Chinese food tonight. And I made a calculated misjudgment and suggested that my husband take Jonathan to the basement and put together a toy for him. So, of course they were downstairs when the doorbell rang. I was up here nursing the baby. I had to struggle first to unhook myself from the strongest latch in the world, and second to get out of my squishy sofa. I am so distracted that I just signed for the food, baby in my arms. When the guy said, "do you want to leave a tip?" I didn't really hear him and I said, "no, I don't need to." Then I saw his face and tried to recapture what he had said. Egads.... ack. Needless to say, he got a bigger tip than his services warranted.