Quinn is somewhat intrigued by the baby, but decidedly lukewarm on the whole "sharing mommy and daddy" thing. He'll adjust, no doubt, because he's a good-natured and easygoing kid.
Here's what a baby monitor looks like in a geek house:
That's our living room TV, broadcasting the picture and audio pickup from the wireless infrared camera mounted on a shelf about ten inches behind the head end of Miss Lyra's bassinet. Thanks to the built-in IR lamps, it picks up an image even in complete darkness, and the audio is good enough to hear her breathe.
There's another pair in various locations in Quinn's room, and a pair of receivers hooked up to both of the house's TV sets can be dialed in to view the feed from any of the cameras (or cycle through them in two-second intervals.) For a baby monitor system, those cameras are unbeatable. As you can see, there's no guesswork involved as to how the baby is doing.
Yesterday at the hospital, I walked around with Lyra and snuggled with her just like I did ( and still do) with Quinn, having her nestled into the crook of my neck, when I found myself thinking for just a moment that I wouldn't mind having a third one after all. (Robin, however, yanked me right back into reality by grinning and saying "You'll have to find someone else for that.")
Do I like being a parent? Hell, no. Those kids come wrapped in worry, and that's the one word that I would choose to describe what it's like to be a parent. You worry about them all the time. Parenting is not all that much fun. There are the sleepless nights, the stress, the loss of personal freedom and flexibility, and a myriad of other inconveniences. I don't like being a parent.
I do, however, love these two children, and it's such an all-encompassing and overwhelming love that I would put up with anything to make sure they grow up in safety and happiness.
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