The Birth Story – Part 2

(Click here if you missed Part 1.)  

We went to the third floor and checked in. “Are you coming from your OB’s for the prenatal monitoring? Go take a seat in the waiting room, all of our beds are full right now so we’ll have to wait until one opens up.” So Stephen and I went to the waiting room and watched some chef prepare a 5 star meal on the local morning show. I got a bed at about 9:45 and they strapped two monitors to my belly. One to track my contractions and one to track my heartbeat. I thought the monitors were pretty interesting but I constantly felt like they were going to flip off of my giant belly.

I laid in bed with Stephen sitting in a small chair by my side listening to all the beeps around us. There were four beds in this room since it was just for these sorts of tests. All of the beds had curtains around them so you could feel a bit of privacy. The nurse came back about 15 minutes later and asked me if I had any contractions. I hadn’t. She went to read the screen with all the results. I don’t remember the nurses face or the color of her scrubs, but I will never forget the way she looked at the screen and then turned to me and said, “Umm, actually you have been having them every 3-4 minutes.”

Listen. I’ve never had a baby before but I know that every 3-4 minutes is a big deal. That’s grounds for calling your doctor and high-tailing it to the hospital. Well I was already at the hospital so we could go ahead and put a check in that box. The nurse decided to go call my doctor to give her the news and ask her what the next step was. While she was gone, Stephen and I did a whole lot of looking at each other and saying, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” We really just had one main question: WHO HAS CONTRACTIONS AND DOESN’T KNOW IT?? I mean, I’ve always thought that because I have experienced so many migraines that I have a higher pain tolerance than many people, but not that high!

The nurse came back and said, “Well, I spoke to your doctor. Looks like you’re having a baby today!”

My eyes turned into saucers and my smile went from ear to ear. And if I’m going to be completely honest with you, the smile wasn’t from excitement, it was from nervousness. Nervous terror. I was just supposed to be going to the doctor. You know, a quick check with several it’s-getting-close’s from the nurses and OB. And now I’m in the hospital and you’re telling me that I’m going to have a baby… today? As in, this date? As in, 2.5 weeks early? NOW? 

The nurse checked me and I was now at 4 centimeters. (This was also the point in my life when I learned that there is a skill to checking someone’s cervix. My OB was so good at it that it never phased me. This chick? Not so much.) There was no need to rush me to a delivery room because there was still a lot of labor that needed to happen. It’s a good thing because every single delivery room was full. So our job was just to hang out and watch reruns of Home Improvement.

The nurse came back in to give me my IV and tell me about the strict “no eating or drinking” rule. It was about that time that I was cursing my bagel breakfast and wishing I had eaten 17 pancakes and a pound of bacon. I’d heard plenty of stories about people being in labor for upwards of 24 hours and the thought of no food until the next morning was giving me serious anxiety. (Remember, I was still pregnant at this point. The possibility of no food is a common fear in pregnant women.)

While I sat in my bed texting random people to tell them this new turn of events, Stephen stepped into the hall to call our parents. My parents were instructed to pick up our bag from our house and take care of our dog for the next couple days. We weren’t able to get in contact with his mom for a couple hours. She’d given us direction to call her cell phone when it was time. If she didn’t answer, we were to call the office. She’d told her office that she would be leaving work the instant she got the call. She works at a preschool and apparently the secretary didn’t think it was that important to get her. Or something. Not sure. The details are sketchy because honestly I didn’t care about anything besides the whole “looks like you’re having a baby today” thing.

Of course we told them all not to rush, that babies take their time. Do you think they listened? No. They all decided that they’d set up shop in the waiting room and sit tight until Jansen decided it was time to come. Since we didn’t have much real estate in that room (literally only had a bed and a small chair) they all had to come in one at a time to say hello. Throughout the next few hours, each of them came to keep me company and ask how I was doing. Remember that since I was still pregnant, I still had a pregnant woman’s bladder. So Stephen would have to help me out of bed and wheel my IV to the bathroom. It was all very awkward since I would have to try to hold the back of my gown closed while waddling and trying not to rip my IV out. (I have an irrational fear of IVs ripping out. It got better throughout the day, but at this point it was a pretty serious concern of mine.)  

By this time, I’d learned what a contraction feels like. I suppose they were getting stronger and that’s why I was able to feel them, plus I was laying still with nothing to do but concentrate on my stomach. Stephen would stand in front of the computer and watch the numbers (we didn’t know what they meant, but we knew that a change in numbers was likely a contraction). I would say, “Oh wait! I think this is one. Is it? Is it a contraction?” And he’d watch the numbers change, “Yeah! That’s a contraction! It’s still going, babe! You’re still having it!” It was a fun little game that would last several more hours.

Finally at 3:45 they wheeled me into a delivery room. It was much bigger and I was allowed to have 4 guests in there. That was nice since I enjoyed the company, plus I felt bad that they all had to wait out in the waiting room. (I literally JUST realized that they all had each other in the waiting room, so I was probably the most bored of everyone. I had only had one guest at a time. Hmm.) At this point the nurse checked me and I was still at 4 centimeters. The anesthesiologist came in to explain the process to me. (I knew I was going to get drugs even before I got pregnant. I know me. If I didn’t get drugs I would have been miserable, plus I would have given myself a migraine from the pain.) I didn’t really need to hear the details from him but I think they have to do that, although meeting him made me feel better about the whole sticking-a-needle-in-a-dangerous-place thing.

At this point, just about everyone had arrived. My parents, Stephen’s parents, Stephen’s sister from Fort Worth, and my sister. Stephen’s other sister came after work and my brother and SIL weren’t able to come. I think we were all pretty bored. Every now and then one of them would say something that showed how excited they were. I was nervous. And mostly bored. I watched several episodes of Cash Cab to try to keep my mind off things. Sort of like “a watched pot never boils”… a thought-about cervix never opens. Right?

We continued to play the contraction game. My dad was really into it. I’d tell them when a contraction came (they were much stronger now, but still not painful) and he and Stephen would run over to the machine to watch the numbers. “OH LOOK! This is a good one!” or “Man! What a weenie contraction!” Eventually he started trying to foresee the future. “Well you’ve had several strong ones recently, I think we’re getting somewhere.” It was a good way to pass time.

My OB came to check on me at about 5:40 that evening. There were several patients of hers in delivery rooms so she’d be hanging around for the rest of the night. She checked my cervix and I was “a good 4” so she decided to break my water. I think she was ready to get the show on the road. I started having a panic attack. I had been at the hospital almost 9 hours and it was just hitting me that I was about to have a baby. Once your water is broken, there is no turning back. (Not that there was any turning back before that, you can’t exactly un-conceive a baby.)

For some reason I was terrified of her breaking my water. I think it was because I had read descriptions that said the doctor will take a long stick with a hook on the end and stick it in there to manually break the water. That was the scariest thing I had ever heard. All of my guests stepped out. I started sweating and begging Stephen to come hold my hand. My OB looked at me like I was a nut job, “It’s really no big deal, Chelsea. I promise. You won’t feel anything.” I tried to relax but I really just wanted to scream, “OF COURSE YOU’D SAY THAT. IT’S NO BIG DEAL TO YOU! YOU AREN’T ABOUT TO GET YOUR VAGINA STABBED WITH A GIANT CROCHET HOOK!”

But I kept my mouth shut and I’m certainly glad that I did because, well, she was right. It was no big deal. She broke my water and I’m sure that 17 gallons of liquid came pouring out of me. But I can’t remember that. I think I remember several towels. But mostly I just remember sitting there, wide-eyed, thinking, “This is it. I’m going to be a mom. I’m going to have a baby.”

(Part 3 coming tomorrow.)

This Time Last Year

This time last year I was a nervous wreck. I had knots in my stomach and wanted to hurl. I was at work, trying to go about my daily tasks without falling asleep or throwing up or daydreaming in my office chair.

You see, one year and 8 days ago Stephen and I found out we were going to have a baby. It was one of the weirdest days of my life. Second only to the day I went into labor, which I have yet to blog about even though Jansen is 4.5 months old. (One day I’ll get on that, it really is a good story.) So 373 days ago I woke up and peed on a stick in the guest bathroom. I hadn’t told Stephen I was going to do it. I had taken so many tests and I was tired of walking out of the bathroom and disappointingly shaking my head to Stephen. I looked down at the stick, expecting to see nothing and then a slow negative. But that’s not what I saw. I saw an immediate plus. I said the only thing that could come out of my mouth.

“Oh my God.”

With my jaw dropped and the pee stick in my hand, I walked into the laundry room where Stephen was changing the wash. I was on repeat. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

We decided to take a few days to gather ourselves. We wanted a confirmation from the doctor and we needed to figure out how we were going to tell everyone.

So on January 20, 2010, exactly a year ago today, we told our families that their entire world was about to change.

That paper inside the frame said something along the lines of “Mommy and Daddy will give you a real picture when I get here – I hope you can wait until September! Love, Baby Hurst”

There was screaming and crying, mostly from my mother-in-law. Tears from me. The whole day was overwhelming and I was so ready for it to be over. It was shocking and scary and exciting.

Nothing has been the same since.

A Day In The Life Of A Nana

Top Ten Reasons Why We Should All Aspire To Be A Nana:

10. Super cozy loveseats.
9. Soft baby blankets on your skin.
8. The sound of binkie sucks.
7. Baby sighs.
6. Can you even imagine the scent??
5. Puppy cuddles.
4. Babysitting the grandkids.
3. Pure relaxation.
2. Daytime naps.
1. A chunky baby sprawled out on your chest.

That’s it. When I grow up I want to be a Nana.

Well Hello There, Monday

I really have no idea where this post is going, but I do know that I have a couple things to cover. It could be an adventure to see how we get there and where we end up.

I’m currently sipping this fantastical chocolate cherry port that we bought from a local winery. I’m normally a white wine sort of gal but I’m making an effort to be an equal opportunity boozer. Bagillions of people love red wine, why can’t I? I’m getting there, friends. Unfortunately as it stands, the two that I enjoy are not in my typical under $10 price range. Stephen and I are quite frugal but I think we’ve decided that a little splurge here and there could make us quite happy.

I had a great weekend. On Friday, Stephen and I stopped at Old Navy so I could buy my first pair of non-maternity jeans in over a year. I’ve been in denial because it’s really difficult to purchase jeans in bigger sizes. It feels like you’re losing, like you’re giving in. But I am so ridiculously tired of my maternity jeans so I gave in. I found two pairs that look good and don’t make me feel bad about my mommy hips. And because God loves me and wants me to be happy, He put a $15 pair of jeggings in my path. They are two sizes larger than my pre-pregnancy size, but I think I’ll just cut off the tag and pretend the are tiny.

Saturday was productive. Jansen slept about 23 out of 24 hours which allowed Stephen and I to do things. Me? I slept. Jansen woke up at 6:30 to eat so I fed him and we went back to sleep until 9:30. It was grand. Then I did random things around the house. Stephen spent about 2 hours on the roof smearing tar all over random holes. We have a couple holes that we’ve been unable to patch. So he bought a can of roof tar the size of Tallahassee (if Tallahassee is huge) and went to town. Unfortunately we found out later that night during The Rainstorm of 2011 that one of the holes is still not patched. Let me tell you, friends, that is enough to make a man go crazy.

Saturday evening I concentrated on keeping Jansen awake so he’d sleep later that night while Stephen made our ENTIRE HOUSE SMELL LIKE A SEWER. You see, he’s started a new hobby. Beer making. I’m a full supporter of this new hobby. It’s like a man’s version of crafting. And he’ll get to drink and share the final product, which I think is great. I just had no idea it was going to smell so bad. I told him that whenever he makes his second batch, I will be out of town that weekend on a Girl’s Trip.

This post certainly makes us sound like lushes.

Sunday was Stephen’s birthday. I now, as I do every year, feel like I’m married to an old man. He only turned 27 and I know that’s not actually old, but every year I feel like it is. This time last year he turned 26 and I kept saying, “Wow, we’re getting old.” Not the point though. The point is that it was his birthday and we had a great day. We started the day with Shipley’s donuts, went to church, and then went to my parents for lunch. His parents and his sister and her boyfriend came over and we all enjoyed crockpot chicken tacos a la Lauren From Texas. For dessert we had an apple crumble that my mom made. So good. That Barefoot Contessa knows what she’s doing.

My parents and his parents went in together and bought him an antique (looking) globe. It’s an item on his “I want to own before I die” list. It beautiful and makes me feel dumb, but he loves it and that makes me happy.

And that puts us here. It’s Sunday evening as I type this. I am watching Iron Chef, Stephen is playing guitar, and Jansen is frantically trying to eat his zoo animals fabric book. We’re one small happy family and the only wish I have at this point is for a few more days in this weekend.

I’m not sure if I covered everything on my agenda but I think we took a nice tour of the weekend.

I used random.org to find the winners of our Gumdrop Greetings giveaway. The name is a link and you should definitely check her out again because she added more items over the weekend. And if you buy a set, you are more than welcome to bless me with some snail mail!

I’m not fancy enough to show screen shots so I’ll just tell you the winners.

The winner of the Hello Pastel Notecards is comment #20, which is Taryn. And the winner of the Free Hug Coupon Mini Notecards is comment #31, which is Krys. Girls, I’ll get you in touch with Erin so you can get your goods.

Ten on Tuesday is posted.

That post wore me out. I’m going to bed.

Because At This Rate, I’ll Have No Memory At All

Ever since I got pregnant, my memory has slowly been declining. I used to be known for my amazing memory. I could recall any detail about any day without much reflection. My mom used to call me to tell me something so that I could remind her later. Not anymore. I thought it was just “pregnancy brain” and would only last 9 months. Nope. My memory is still mush. It’s terrible. I came to the conclusion last night that the reason it’s so terrible is because I never really get enough sleep. My constant exhaustion is making my brain useless.

With that said, this post is probably more for me than it is for you. Thirty years from now, I’m going to wonder if I was present in my niece’s first year of life. YOU WERE, FUTURE CHELSEA. I SWEAR YOU WERE THERE!

Avery turned one on December 29. Do you remember her birth last year? If not, you may want to visit this post. And then this post. And it was a few days after that when many of you started asking me if I was pregnant. You’d email me and leave winky comments on my blog. It was really quite funny. I had no idea why you might think that, besides the fact that I was loving on my baby niece so much. I wasn’t intentionally lying to you at that point, I had no idea I was pregnant. But sure enough, there was a teeny tiny human being living in my womb… and you all knew if before I did. I must’ve had a surge of hormones bursting through me the night I met Avery for the first time, because that is precisely when Jansen’s life was formed. DO YOU HEAR THAT AVERY AND JANSEN? How is that for awkward conversation?!

Anyways, I’m rambling about nothing. (What’s new?) The point is that this weekend we celebrated Avery’s first birthday and I had a baby in tow. MY MY MY how things change in a year! (Please remember that, every single person reading this. Where you are today is most certainly not where you will be on January 6, 2012. And I’m not talking about geography!) Avery partied it up with her family and a flower cupcake. She fell in love with the icing but decided that birthday hats were of the devil. Our normal smiley Avery entered into a fit of rage the second that hat went on her head. (It may or may not have something to do with the fact that Laura accidentally snapped her nose with the elastic band… but whatever.)

Isn’t she the cutest?? Well, actually I happen to think my son is the cutest… but she is certainly the cutest girl!

And because no picture post is ever complete without a cameo from my little man…

I know what you’re all thinking and all I can say is I DO NOT KNOW why God decided to give this family two ridiculously cute and OH SO HAPPY babies. But we’re not complaining one bit and we’re doing our part to share them with the world.

Don’t forget to enter my blogiversary giveaway on yesterday’s post.

Quick Takes On A Thursday

I have the day off tomorrow which means I probably won’t be blogging. (I don’t know why that really matters since I blog at night anyways.) I’m going to give myself a blogging three day weekend so I thought I’d do some quick takes today.

1.
Wordpress has quit emailing me my comments. WHY? It did this once before and I don’t remember why. I think it was a glitch and it fixed itself. Does anyone know anything that could help me at all?? I hate that I have to visit my own blog to see your comments.

2.
My baby is not feeling well. He’s a really happy baby but he is currently seriously super pissed off at the world. I’m not sure what’s going on. He doesn’t have a fever. I’m pretty sure it is tummy related since he kicks his legs and then pulls his knees up to him. He’s been having some serious spit up. I’m trying to be a chill momma and not freak out. Since he has no fever and he isn’t spitting up all his food, I think he’ll be okay. I’ll just keep a close eye on him so I can notice any changes right away.

3.
How many people bought Choco Vine last night?

4.
Every year my cousin gives all of the girls socks for Christmas. I don’t know how she does it but she always finds the most fun pairs! This year we got these red cable knit super long socks! They go up your calf and a drawstring around that top with pom poms on the end. SO CUTE. I look like I’m wearing cable knit boots. I even have my snowmen PJ pants tucked into them.

5.
Look at my Santa.

6.
Here’s another Christmas photo. Stephen’s hat is a bit scraggly. It came with his Santa pants (that you unfortunately can’t see in this picture) and it’s made out of stretchy material which is perfect since he has a very, very large head.

7.
I’m so excited about this weekend that I can hardly contain myself. Three mornings without an alarm clock!! I know, I know… I have a newborn. But little man is good about going back to sleep if I cuddle with him. So I’ll likely have to wake up at 7 or 8 and then we can go back to sleep for another hour or so. I think I could sleep the entire three days if it weren’t for food and potty necessities.

When Chocolate Meets Booze, Magic Happens

Every once in a while a product comes along that seems so off the wall that you swear the maker was high on NyQuil when he came up with it. I’m looking at you Snuggie. And the singing mounted fish. And any item in SkyMall.

The problem is that sometimes these weird products steal our hearts and we convince ourselves that they are a good idea. I own a Snuggie. My dad owns that singing Billy the Bass or whatever the heck it’s called. And sometimes I think I need every single product that SkyMall offers, however ridiculous they are. I remember the first time I saw jeggings in a store. I scoffed. Audibly. I swore that there was no way anyone I knew would ever wear a pair. I figured they’d be like the backpack purse, cute for little girls but completely out of the question for grown ups.

But just this week I heard the following sentence come out of my mouth, “I just really need to get me some jeggings if this is going to look good.” For serious, Chelsea? Who are you? Pretty soon I’m going to be rockin’ a Bumpit and SillyBandz.

Okay so don’t freak out when I tell you about this new product. You will thank me the second you get your hands on it.

Choco Vine. “The taste of dutch chocolate and fine red wine.”

Gross, I know. Someone told us about this stuff and I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Then one day, Stephen came home with a bottle. He bought it at CVS for $11. Now listen, I’m not a wine snob by any means, I think an $11 bottle of wine is a-okay, but when someone tells you about a product and says, “Yeah! You can get it at the local CVS,” something feels wrong. We were hesitant. In fact, we left it in our fridge for several days.

Over the weekend we went to south Texas to be with my family for Christmas. And what would you know, that had a bottle of Choco Vine. My aunt said it was good and she’s definitely not a liar. I tried some. Y’all, this stuff is good. It tastes like Bailey’s only cheaper and you can buy it at the same store you buy your tampons and batteries.

We currently have two bottles of Choco Vine in our wine fridge and it is now my beverage of choice. Pour some Choco Vine over ice and the top with milk. I know it sounds gross, TRUST ME I KNOW, but it is not even a little bit off-putting once you take the first sip. It’s like a grown up glass of chocolate milk. In fact, I may start bringing it in a thermos to work. (Just kidding, mom.)

This weekend is New Years Eve, also known in many circles as: The Night Of Drinking. (Not mine. In my circle it is known as: The Night of Getting Some Sleep and Not Setting An Alarm While the Rest of the Country Gets Wastey Faced and Stays Up All Night.) Go to your drug store or grocery store where I assume they’ll have this fine bottle of wine, and pick up one or two for the party you’re attending. They may look at you like you’re a nut job, but I swear you’ll be getting major props by the end of the night. Just trust me on this.

Merry Christmas To You

Because I love you so much, I’m gifting you with some pictures of my baby boy from our Christmas last weekend. You’re welcome. You don’t even have to send me a thank you card.

If I Didn’t Have A Blog, I’d Start One

I never realized that totally random things happened to me until I started a blog and opened my eyes. Now I notice weird and hilarious things all the time. Usually there are one or two odd things that happen per week, but Saturday… wow. It was the mother of all random days.

My family went to Dickens on the Strand. It’s a festival in Galveston where people dress up as characters from Dickens’ books. There are singers, jugglers, parades, etc. I was pretty excited about it– mostly because I got to spend the day with my family, but also because carnival food speaks to me on a different level. We got there a bit after noon and did some hardcore people watching. I wish I could show you a picture of this woman who had the most giant cha-chas I have ever seen but it was really hard to get a good photo without being obvious. Although I don’t know why I should care… if you put your jugs on display, you can’t be shocked when people look. Just imagine a “hefty” woman with giant jello molds spilling out of her dress.

I really don’t know why I’m telling you this.

Anyways, we were standing in the middle of the road eating our respective fried foods and drinking our respective high calorie beverages when all of a sudden a man starts singing. He was about 4 feet away and it scared the poo out of me. The man was dressed up and had a great voice. But since 1) many people were dressed up and 2) we were in the middle of the road, I had no reason to believe that this was anything but a random man singing.

Some family friends joined us for the day and a few lines into the song, our friend started singing along. Little did we know, he was joining in a flash mob. The second verse started and another person joined in. A few lines later, more joined. And on and on. Until about 12 people were singing and we were smack dab in the middle of it.

It was seriously one of the strangest things I have ever been part of. I just kept looking around and thinking, “Did that really just happen?”

It did. It really did. Then it got weirder.

I’m really not a fan of birds. Something about them really freaks me out so I really try to stay away from all things bird related. However, there was this bird show that Stephen wanted to see so I went with him. It was in the street, right in the middle of all the activity. They showed us several birds, and I can’t remember much about them because I don’t really care all that much. I do remember that the owls were really pretty and were completely silent when they flew.

They also brought out a vulture and it was disgusting and it walked right next to me.

Then out came the falcon. It was the closing act. It was big and beautiful and it didn’t really scare me. They made him fly from one perch to another to show us how pretty he was. Then they were going to show us this trick where they swing a leather bird around on a long string and the bird wiould be flying high in the air and would dive bomb the bird. So picture this: The bird is flying in the air (as opposed to the water?) and he lands on the shops. Then he soars a bit more and lands on another building. He flys around going high and low, coming close and going far. He doesn’t seem to be interested in the leather bird.

I had a bit of anxiety because this bird was literally on its own. There was no reason he couldn’t just fly away, never to be seen again. He kept going further and further. He’d come back a bit, then go even further. It was like one step forward and two steps back, only he was using wings and his two steps were more like 17. This bird went far.

But we’d survived three other birds so I tried to relax. Surely he was going to come back. (Don’t call me Shirley.)

HE DIDN’T, Y’ALL! He left. He flew away. The bird flew away. The trainers did a really good job at not freaking out but you could tell they were uneasy. One trainer took off. The other one remained calm and closed the show. “Well, I’m going to go try to find my bird…” We were shocked. SHOCKED! I couldn’t believe that was happening. I mean, I know it’s a risk that comes with the profession but, man, I felt bad for those guys. I can’t even begin to think about how much time and money went into training that bird. (“Obviously not enough,” said our friend.)

Several hours later we went by the tent to see if the bird had returned. I would have been shocked if it did. We were in the middle of the street in a random city, it’s not like the bird was familiar with the area. Sure enough, it hadn’t been found.

Cah-razy. It was a crazy day. We’d been trapped in the middle of a flash mob, we had witnessed a bird-gone-rogue, and then this:

I MIGHT Be The Only One That Thinks This Is Funny

I got glasses on Friday. I swore I would never get glasses again after I got contacts in the 5th grade. You see, I got glasses when I was two years old and had them until I was able to get contacts. I was so tired of having them that I swore I’d never get them again. But now I’m tired of contacts. Funny how that works. So I got glasses.

That’s not the funny thing.

I took some pictures of our little family of three on Friday night. We were sitting on the couch and I thought, “Hey, I’d like to remember this moment” so I pulled out my camera and took some pictures of us. It’s not easy to get three people to look and smile at the same time. (It’s impossible to make one of those smile or look… we just needed him to not make crying or farting faces.) The result made me laugh.

Between the binky, the glare on my glasses, half closed eyes, and severe fatigue, this is what we got.

Okay so I’m aware that I may be the only person on the planet that thinks these are funny. But it’s my blog and I wanted to make sure these would be on the internet forever. You’re welcome, Jansen.

So those are my glasses and that’s my super cute family. And incase that’s not a good enough post for you, I caught Jansen smiling in his sleep. It’s REALLY close up and I apologize for that, but he was in my arms and I couldn’t get the camera very far away from his face. Plus, babies only smile for like half a second at a time so I had to be quick.

Yes, he’s wearing camo.

(I actually posted ToT questions last night. I know, I know. I impress myself!)