Across town from me, at this moment, my daughter is wearing this very ensemble. That thought pleases me. (Note the stylish R. Stevens original onesie she’s sporting.)

Who else has been rocking it is Patrick Farley in his Dicebox saga “Don’t Look Back.” I realize that I’ve neglected mentioning it here for the past couple of weeks. If you depend on this journal for update notices, you’ll wanna go back to page 27 for the last three pages.

But back to talking about my daughter. Taran is 13 weeks old as of today and is indeed rocking my world. And shaking it, rearranging it, spitting up on it…

I never really sought to be a mother but I have to say it’s actually kinda awesome. There’s nothing like watching the person she is and is becoming emerge each day. This past Sunday, she invented her first game.

Here’s how it goes: while I hold her against my shoulder, she looks at and engages the person sitting next to us. Then she squeals in delight and hides her face against my neck. Then turns back to the the person and begins again. She did this most recently with Bill; both seemed to enjoy it immensely.

Of course this whole motherhood thing has been very challenging for me, especially since returning to the day job a couple weeks ago. And frustrating in regards to getting art done. However, I’m managing and have actually figured out when I’ll be resuming Dicebox: March 4th. I might be splitting updates with Patrick as he finishes his mini retro epic, but the show will (finally) go on.

Specifically I gave birth to a 10 pound, 5 ounce baby girl named Taran Jack Manley, 22 and a half inches long with a full head of hair and eyebrows (the delivery team seemed the most impressed with the eyebrows.)

I’ve already posted the log of Twitter posts that Kip, Dylan and I made during the process. This here is more about the whys-and-where-ores and my feelings about the whole thing.

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What follows is a log of the process leading up to Taran’s birth as recorded by Kip, Dylan and I, with the inclusion of the tweets of friends, excluding the private messages. (I might have missed a few which I will add as I find them)

This turned out to be surprisingly useful thing for us to have done, not only to let family and friends how it was going as it was going, but when some medical person needed to know when, say, my waters were ruptured or when I stopped having solid food, it was right there, time stamped in our twitter logs.

I had a few folks expressed surprise we were doing this, using twitter to live blog the birth of Kip’s and mine daughter, but a large reason of why I joined Twitter was in anticipation of doing just this.

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First, there was an update to “Don’t Look Back” last week, I just neglected to post about it. (permalink)

And then there’s this week’s page; I could not have asked for a better page to end up in Taran’s scrapbook. (permalink)

The Kid isn’t here yet, but she will be before the weekend’s out–by hook or by crook–thanks to the wiles of medical science.