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 By  Staff Reports Published 
12:25 am Sunday, September 5, 2004

Dirty diapers, no sleep bring lots of joy

By By Penny Randall / staff writer
September 5, 2004
It's a boy!
David Lowry Randall arrived on July 14 weighing a whopping 8 pounds 15 ounces. He has his daddy's mouth and chin, and my blue eyes and dark hair.
And for the people who told me, "All babies are different." Now I believe them.
My husband, David, and I have a 31⁄2 year old daughter, Olivia. She was a wonderful baby. She had no problems with her milk or sleeping at night.
But, "Baby David" as Olivia calls him, has already had his milk changed and cries no, wait, he screams at the top of his lungs most of the time. He's only happy when someone is holding him. He may be a fussy boy, but I'm so happy and blessed to have a healthy baby.
Besides becoming reacquainted with 2 a.m. feedings, we've also had to make sure we don't overlook Olivia. We made sure she knows that being the "Big Sister" is a special job.
She is in charge of the pacifier or "pappy," as we call it, and she wants to watch every time the baby gets his diaper changed. She also loves to touch his cheeks and constantly tries to shove his thumb in his mouth.
When I tell her to stop she says, "But momma, babies are supposed to suck their thumb."
Boy or girl?
My husband and I didn't find out our children's sex before they were born, and we are completely overjoyed that we have a girl and a boy.
While I was pregnant people would ask, "Do you know what you're having?" I always answered, "No, we didn't find out. We want it to be a surprise."
People couldn't understand why we didn't want to know because of all the fancy technology nowadays that allow new parents to learn the sex of their child.
My husband was adamant that we not find out. It's not that I didn't want to know, because in the beginning I did. But after thinking about it, I told myself "there are only a few true surprises in this world, and let this be one of them."
To say the least, our families are ecstatic that we had a boy. Everyone was at the hospital when "Baby David" arrived about 6 p.m., except for my sister who was driving in from Nashville and missed the birth by about 45 minutes.
I finally went to sleep about 1 a.m. after everyone left, and Olivia went to spend the night with my husband's parents. That first night is a blur, but I do remember the look of joy on my husband's face when he realized he now had a son. I will always remember that wonderful look.
Back at work
I've spent the last six weeks at home enjoying my time with Olivia and "Baby David." I got hooked on soap operas again and I got used to taking an afternoon nap when the baby would lay down.
Oh, I miss my nap so much.
I came back to work last week and was greeted warmly by my fellow co-workers all of whom said they missed me. I have to admit, I missed them, too.
I've also missed talking to you and sharing your stories in the Connections section of The Star.
That brings me to my next thought. I need to hear from you. Do you know someone who has achieved something so special that you feel their story needs to be told? If so, give me a call.
On Wednesdays I like to feature something related to food in the Connections section. Do you know about a new restaurant opening or someone who loves to cook? If so, give me a call.
Proud of Clarkdale
While I was on maternity leave, I read the paper almost every day. When the story about the school test scores came out, I was eager to find out how my alma mater did.
I'm a 1992 graduate of Clarkdale Attendance Center and was so proud to learn that the school ranked No. 1 in the state with its English scores.
My fellow co-worker, Fredie Carmichael, is also a graduate of Clarkdale and recently wrote a column about Mrs. Herrington and what a great English teacher she was.
I had Mrs. Balaski for English and want to also give her a big "thank you" for all that she did in the classroom.
But the people we should give extra kudos to are the teachers who are currently at Clarkdale. Thanks for all that you do. I'm so proud to be a Clarkdale grad.

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