No return policy

Jared and I were discussing the fact that we have reached the point of no return with Thor. As in, literally, if we decided we couldn't handle one more 2:00 a.m. feeding or diaper containment issue or rectal thermometer reading and instead arranged a quiet transaction with a professional couple in some tony suburb, chances are that people would notice and ask a lot of inconvenient questions. So he is evidently here to stay.

I've begun to realize that this means we are now irrevocably locked into teething, potty training, adolescence, possibly orthodontics, and if all goes well, college tuition and a mission fund. It's amazing how much your future can be altered by a little 8-pound bundle.

On the other hand, we're also lined up for some fun Christmases, parent-teacher conferences (seriously, I've been wanting to check those out for some time), a Disneyland excursion or two, and some help with household chores (finally). Someday in a future that seems too distant to even contemplate, we may even reap the benefits of grandkids to entertain us in our twilight years. It's all so strange.