While J and B were in the hospital, I had to wear one of those little plastic ID bands. The three of us had a set with matching serial numbers, and whenever one of the nurses handled B, they would check that the numbers matched before giving him back to us. Heck, if I handled a couple dozen different newborns every day I'd do the same thing.

But now since he came home and the tags came off (including his RF dongle that was supposed to set off an alarm if he came too close to the exit), I still have a weird sensation of touch on my left wrist, as if mine were still there. I've never worn anything on my hands or wrists except for the watch, so I wonder if somehow my nerves were so surprised that they haven't gotten over the experience.

Meanwhile, I am thinking of starting a twitter feed or something for C. This morning when I went in to wake him it was "I love you, Dad. And I love my blankets. Do you love me and your blankets?"