So, I'm kicking it with my Mom on the couch on Saturday night, listening to the Florida-Miami game, and to Dad ramble on and on about how the Huskers are going to need to put a solid running game together if they are going to compete in the Big 12, how the ACC may be the worst football conference in the history of the world, and how the SEC is overrated. Anyway, I'm kicking along to the ESPN theme music, and someone starts draining the pool. Now, this doesn't bother me - I mean, I was really starting to get a little pruny - but it apparently bothered Mom. All of the sudden she's up and running around - telling dad that she thougth the pool "broke," or something like that; typing on the computer, I guess to figure out if it could be fixed; up the stairs; down the stairs; in the shower; telling Dad what to pack. This can be more than a little disconcerting when you're along for the ride, hanging out upside down in a rapidly draining pool.

We drive over to the hospital at about 11:30 pm. There's a lot of hustle and bustle. Dad seems pretty happy. Mom seems less so. Then Mom and Dad decide to walk a marathon. I don't know why - Mom hasn't walked that far for as long as I've known her, and she knows when she tries that I am just going to make life miserable. She walks for about an hour, and I start noticing that she is squeezing me every 10 to fifteen minutes or so. It's not that bad. They stop for about an hour, and then, out of the blue... up they go again - walking in the same long stupid circle, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. By now, I'm dizzy, and starting to get annoyed at this squeezing every ten minutes. Finally they give up on their marathon to nowhere and go to bed around 4:00 in the morning.
The next morning there's a whole lot more hustle and bustle. At around 9:00, I hear someone say something about an induction. I am thinking, induction seems a little premature, but hey, they know talent when they see it. Having no clue about the difference between being "inducted" and being "induced", I try to relax, and start preparing my induction speech. Oh, I found out the difference. And trust me friend, this type of induction - you don't want it. Those little ten minute squeezes turned into monster bear hugs (you know the kind uncle Matt gives when he's trying to show how strong he is), and they were coming ever three minutes.
At 12:30 on Sunday afternoon, when I thought that I had had just about enough of this "induction" @#$#, this nice sounding woman named Ericka says "it's time to push." I figure, well at least we're done with "induction." Not so fast my friend. "Time to push" is not cool at all. All that means is that Mom (who I thought was on my side) starts helping whatever it is that has been squeezing me to really squeeze the ever-loving %#$@# out of me. And then I start banging my head... on everything. Bang.... "alright deep breath"... Bang.... "come on Amy, you're doing great... "Bang.. "a little harder..." ("A little harder," seriously Dad, if I was anything over 7 pounds, I would stand up and give you the ....). And on it went for an hour and a half.

Suddenly at 2:04 pm on Sunday afternoon, some (I won't say mean, but I won't say nice either) woman grabbed me by the head and suddenly everything got really cold. I started screaming, Mom started crying, I don't know what Dad was doing (I guess he's laughing, but it was just kind of weird), some lady I'd never met started wiping me down, and barking out numbers... "6 pounds, 7 ounces..." "19 3/4 inches long" "10 fingers," 10 toes," people started commenting on my nice dark hair, and how I looked like Sylvester Stallone at the end of Rocky I (you know, after he loses to Apollo).


Since then, things have been going fine. The bruises on my head and face are starting to fade, I'm eating like there's no tomorrow. Heck, I've even tried sleeping for four hour stretches in the night. I got to meet Rachel and Isaac. Rachel even held me for a while. She's great, but a little clingy. I think Isaac wants to pat me to death, so I'm going to keep my eye on him.
By the way, the name is Levi... Levi Zilen Rudy. Just thought you all should know I'm here.
Peace,

P.S. Here are some pictures to confirm my story. Sorry about the delay. Dad's not so good with computers, and we can't ask Mom to do everything.















































