From an award-winning illustrator and children’s book author comes a touching, honest, and laugh-out-loud funny memoir about parenting, love, and the wonder of new life."I would have sooner been handed a bomb than a baby,” admits Elisha Cooper, early in his charming chronicle of his first year as a father. But that, like everything else, is about to change. Luckily, Cooper recorded it all: from playing Outkast’s “So Fresh, So Clean” as he changes his daughter's diaper, to having a romantic dinner at Chez Panisse with his wife–and baby. Cooper’s disarmingly beautiful essays about the perils and pleasures of parenthood will appeal to any reader, and especially all parents, no matter how old their children. He has done what every new parent is too busy, or too tired, to do—captured with grace the joys, fears, and stumbles of learning to raise a child for the first time.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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|Title of eBook: Crawling|
|Release Date: 09-26-2006|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
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|Note||ePub, short for electronic publication is one of our favorites and should be yours for a couple of reasons. ePub offers reflowable text giving you flexibility to manipulate how the content is presented. Moreover, lots of cool features are now being developed for the reader like advanced video and audio. ePub is now an industry standard, so all of the "non-propreitary" hardware manufacturers are now supporting it.|
There's a head sticking out of my best friend. This is insane. Anybody who says this moment is the most precious wonderful thing in the world is delusional. This isn't a miracle, it's assault. I'd call 911 but we're already in a hospital. I didn't know it would be like this, not even the day before. After Elise's water broke in the morning we went for a walk. Elise's belly was poking out from her small body like a melon. We hiked up in the hills and looked out at the San Francisco Bay shimmering in the distance. In the afternoon we drove to the hospital and were given a room with a view of the Oakland hills, and backless gowns. This was nice, I thought.
We walked the halls kicking a ball of tinfoil in an improvised game of soccer. As Elise's contractions increased we stopped playing soccer and just did laps, my arm on her waist. We'd pass the door with the male doctor inside reading O, The Oprah Magazine, and Elise would not say much and a minute later when we passed the same door (the doctor a few pages further along in O) another contraction would hit, right on time.
Evening became night and night became that time that is neither night nor morning. Elise's contractions got big and painful and the nurse didn't like the baby's heartbeat. She made hushed calls to the attending physician and Elise was hooked to an IV and given oxygen and painkillers. The mood in the room became desperate. Or, I felt desperate. As Elise curled on her side and closed her eyes I felt her slipping from me. My favorite person in theworld lay there humming to herself and I could not reach her. I could only hold her hand and be alone with my worry in the dim light of an