Thursday, February 15, 2007

Dear Kids,
      Sharon and Seth’s baby was born early this morning, about 1:00 am. So he’s a Valentine’s Boy. It will be easy to remember his birthday! Funny thing is, it was 11:00 pm Utah time, the night before, when he came. So if he’d been born in Utah, his birthday would be the 13th. And it probably wouldn’t have taken so long. It’s the university hospital here, so things are, well, different. They had agreed to start Sharon’s labor yesterday, and when she and Seth checked in, the doctor agreed she was ready to go, but he left for surgery without writing the order for pitocin. So they sat and sat. For hours. Nobody could do anything without that order. About nine in the evening, they finally got Sharon going, and things went fast after that. Too fast for her epidural to work. (Been there. Like some of you.) But it all turned out great. Little Matthew G. Thacker weighted 9 lbs. 8 oz, and according to Sharon, he doesn’t look anything like Charlie. I’m here at their house, and Seth just came home. He and Charlie and I are going back to the hospital later on to see the baby. It will be very good for Charlie, who has been very confused. Last night he was saying, “Mommy needs to feed the baby.” I told him Mommy had to wait until the baby was born, and he couldn’t figure it out. This morning I told him the baby was born now, and he still looked puzzled. So he’ll have to see for himself.
      Thursday, Feb. 15: First off, if you want to see pictures of Matthew, check out the slideshow on Sharon and Seth's Blog:
      I didn’t get a chance to finish my letter yesterday. Seth came home and picked us up, and we went back to the hospital to see baby Matthew. And Sharon. They both looked great. I’ll say this about Matthew: good thing he isn’t a girl. There’s nothing dainty about him. Sort of like Benjamin, when he was born. All boy. His feet are gigantic–maybe a size 2 already. And he’s 22" long. But he’s very placid, and doesn’t cry much.
      Meanwhile, it’s COLD here in Michingan. There’s lots of snow. Too bad we don’t have it in Utah. When my plane was coming in Tuesday night, I looked down at the interstate, and I could see it was mostly snow-covered, with cars off the road. Sharon’s friend Mandy picked me up at the airport, and we saw lots more slide-offs on our way home, and a few real smash-ups. I was glad to get here safely, and I’m content to sit here and not go anywhere. Besides, it’s only 6° this morning. And I’m having lots of fun with Charlie. Right now he’s watching “Trucks and Big Machines.”
      Last Monday, back at home, the big news was seeing Allen on the front page of the Tribune, standing in front of his cop car, with dark glasses on, looking very tough. I had seen the article online that morning, but the online picture wasn't very big. But later on in the day, Donna and Bevan and I were walking through Walmart, when we spotted the Tribune on a newspaper rack. You couldn’t miss Allen! I bought a copy of the paper, and I was sure to tell the check-out lady that that was my son, on the front page. The article was about how unaffordable housing is for cops in some communities. So of course they chose Allen for the picture, because he’s so tough looking. Or maybe because he’s officer of the year. (By the way, the ceremony is February 27th, not March 27th.) And how is it that Ackerson men are turning up in the news? First it was Dad on the front page of the Deseret news, back in December, and then in January it was Tom and his kids on the front page of the Summit County Fitness Center guide. And now Allen. So John, you’re next. Or Paul. You’ve gotta keep it going.
      By the way, does anyone want to get on a cell phone plan with Paul? I wish we could fit one more person on our plan, but there are four already. It’s really the cheapest way to go. And I recommend T-Mobile, so we can call each other free. Let me know, or let Paul know, OK?
      I’m going to upload this letter now, if I can. I won’t be mailing it, because it wouldn’t get to you until next week.
      Lots of love, Mom