Originally I was due to arrive sometime around Cinco de Mayo.  But then, for reasons even I don't quite understand, I just suddenly got the urge to leave.  So I did. Here's a picture of Mom relaxing in her hospital bed on the morning of my birth - the doctor had expected to discharge Mom the next day and predicted that she would carry me to term.  Rx: strict bed rest.  Poor Mom.  She never had a chance to fill that prescription.

Here's how I looked on the baby monitor that day - as you can see, my vitals looked great.  I fooled everybody!

Needless to say, I was exhausted as soon as I got out. I gotta be honest, I was pretty out of it when these pictures were taken.  Here I am exactly one-day old:

Nice shades, eh?  Not quite Ray-Ban, but Biliband is still a respected name.  Here's a picture of me on the second day looking stylish in my striped stocking cap:

I know it's only the second day, but I went ahead and had some head shots done - here's probably the best one:

Later when I was in my Mom's arms - that was totally the highlight of my day:

By day three I was starting to perk up a little.  Food all of a sudden got better. Here they have me dressed up where I look like some character straight out of Dr. Seuss - Cat in the Hat quite possibly.  Natural light vs. flash - which is better?

Here's a shot of me with my Dad - note the size differential between the two of us:

Later that same evening, so very tired.  Wake me in the a.m. with a little caffeine. Seriously.

Here I am again being tormented by Papa-razzi.  You know, someone really needs to impound his camera.  This photo was taken right at the point when I was telling him enough is enough:

Saturday night is when my Mom and Dad had to leave the hospital.  Mom was particularly down in the dumps that night.  You might not be able to tell by looking at her in this photo, but trust me, she was really bummed out when Dad took this shot:

Saturday night is also when the National Weather Service was predicting a large amount of snow for the Mid-Atlantic region as well as the entire East Coast.  Central Park in New York City ended up getting a record 26.9 inches of snow.  This photo was taken right before Dad went out with a push broom at 3:00 in the morning like a maniac trying to stay ahead of the storm:

But I'm afraid it's going to take more than snow to keep my folks from coming to see me:

Dad caught me napping in this shot as we reach the six-day mark in my journey - things are still a little steamy here inside my little biosphere:

Today is Valentine's Day - exactly one week after I was born.  One of the hospital staff made a delightful sign with my name inside a giant heart.  Isn't that a really nice thing for someone to do?

Mom made me a valentine, too.  I love it!

Here I am with my Dad right after he asked me why the chicken crossed the road and then answered - to get to the other side.  Oy gevalt!

Here I am later that day in splendid repose enjoying one of my favorite pastimes: sleeping.  Ah, sleep, glorious sleep.

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My second week kicked off with a bang when my Dad's brother - Uncle Dean - came by for a visit.  He has three boys of his own, and he says that their names are Larry, Curly and Moe:

Earlier that day I'd set up an experimental device that I like to call the "Toe Cam":

Here's an image of myself in profile as captured by Dad:

Sometimes even Mom has to play "bad cop."  Here she is on day nine taking my temperature in the pit of my arm.  I would rather lick an ashtray to be quite honest. You'll have to excuse the naked emotion in this photo, but I strongly believe that suppressing one's emotions is bad for the soul.  I'm pretty sure I was screaming "Stop the madness!" when this shot was taken:

It took my folks three days after I was born to come up with my name.  However, I'm pretty proud of the fact that it only took ten days for me to figure out what I want to be when I grow up:  a broadcaster.  Here's a photo of me emulating one of my heroes, Gary Owens, the famous announcer from the "Laugh-In" TV show:

For the first ten days or so I have been getting my mother's milk at each feeding [supplemented by a soupcon of various nutrients in liquid form].  Every three hours - like clockwork.  What's in human milk, you ask?

Lately, the nursing staff have been supplementing my food with milk fortifier - the main goal here being to add calories to my diet.  This milk fortifier is chalk full of all kinds of goodness (actually just more of the same, but it's the thought that counts):

But I don't need research to know that a little TLC from my Mom goes a long way:

One of the hospital volunteers went and knitted me a cap.  Is this the nicest hospital or what?  This look is what the fashion designers in Milan might call "neonatal chic":

Here's a photo that shows what it looks like from the perspective of the feeding tube as I casually sup in Mom's arms while Dad serves as beverage holder:

Does this qualify as a smile?

Here's one other experiment that I like to refer to as the "Gam Cam":

This week really ended with a bang when I called in a favor to an old friend ... and to my utter surprise, the dear old boy came through!  Look who recently stopped by to chat me up on the occasion of my two-week anniversary:  Sock Puppet - the former Pets.com mascot and current celebrity spokespuppet consultant:

Scroll up to the top of the page and click on the tab for "Q & A with Baby Nick" to read the entire unedited interview with Sock Puppet (in publicity photo below).