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I'm still wandering around in a bit of a daze. I attribute this to too many late nights playing Half Life 2, a trend which has continued since Morris' arrival (the late nights, not playing Half Life 2). The problem is that, while I'm tired, I'm a little too wound up to sleep easily.

In part it's probably a little anxiety. Morris has been sleeping almost continuously and not feeding properly (in my well-studied opinion) and up until today there was a chance he'd have to be force fed (by means of a pipe down his nasal passage into his stomach) to get enough fluids into him.

But this evening he suddenly woke up and put away 50ml in record time. 50ml may not sound like much but trust me, for a little guy like him, it may as well be a pitcher's worth. And a few hours later he did it again. Not hard to tell who he takes after on this front.

I'm unlikely to compile any sort of decent advice for fathers-to-be but there are a couple of things I'd have preferred to have known in advance.

The first may only apply to caesarean deliveries, I'm not sure, but when Morris was first plucked from his mother's womb he honestly looked dead to me. He was a deep blue colour, silent, and motionless. There was a real "Oh shit" moment there.

The second is that you're going to get a lot of advice. A. Lot. And most of it's going to be conflicting advice. Even from the (very nice, and well meaning) nurses and doctors. It makes it pretty clear that this whole deal is a bit of a black art. All of these people who are there to try to help have a slightly different collection of case histories, theories, educations and experiences to draw on. And like any good professional (I know, I do this) they're going to tell you how it is and sound like it's a widely accepted fact.

The trick is to realise this upfront and accept the advice as just that, advice, instead of treating it as the gospel truth.

And for those keeping score: no Men's Health moment yet.

Morris (James|Gordon) (Gordon|James) Greenfield (middle name order as yet undecided) arrived (unhappily) in the world last night at 6:07pm.

Mom and baby are happy and healthy (although Morris may disagree on that particular point). Mom will remain in hospital until Sunday.

Based on the deluge of SMSes, Facebook messages, and email messages I've been valiantly fighting last night and this morning, the entire world is now aware of his arrival. This is only fitting. He comes from good stock and the world should be proud to hear that there is additional redundancy in that corner of the gene pool.

The doctors needed a hand at the last minute and, recognizing me for the bottomless well of raw talent that I am, asked me to lend a hand. I was only too happy to assist, and show them a few tricks I made up on the spot.

Visitors are welcome but the hospital is quite strict about two at a time. Contact me for visiting hours. I'll post them here if I remember to bring them home (I said talent, not memory).

Today's xkcd is particularly apt.

Seriously. Well known phenomenon. Happens all the time.

In my dream last night (no doubt HL fueled to some degree) I dug up (literally) an old corporate wiki. It was a weird combination of digital and physical, in the way only a dream can merge two completely disparate ideas.

The wiki documented the destruction of the company that owned it through a software virus (this is starting to sound like the plot for Resident Evil). As it turns out, the virus had slipped in embedded in a piece of software I wrote.

I spent the rest of the dream bouncing from one reference of me in the wiki to another, trying to determine if they viewed me as a villain or not. All of the references were sufficiently neutral to leave with with no real idea.

The dream ended, as dreams so often do, with me in my kitchen, sunburned to a crisp, eating ice cream.

That last bit is what I believe is known as left-field.

Yes, yes, so I'm a bit behind the curve. Forgive me for making a living.

Busy (trying to) play(ing) Half Life 2. Half Life truly was a revolutionary game. I don't do much gaming but HL had me hooked. It was like someone who could do more than rotate vertices and phong shade polyhedra in their sleep had a go at ... gasp ... writing a story.

Anyway, with HL2 Valve introduced Steam. This is basically their way of forcing you to connect to their servers to make sure you're running a legit copy of their game (i.e. one you paid moola for).

Reading through the forums on ways to get around this (purely educational of course) highlights how much of a pain in the ass this is for Valve customers (the people who allow Valve to continue, yes those guys). One guy had to wait for over 5 hours (!) for Steam to update before he could play the game he'd forked cash over for. And I'm sitting here waiting for 15 minutes while it decrypts the files it needs to run the game.

Nothing like modern software to make you feel like a criminal.

Of course, I am a criminal, but that's besides the point. Sheesh.

Just a quick note to say hi to someone I was recently reunited with (electronically anyway) through the power of Facebook (enough with the trumpets!).

So yes, despite my misgivings about Facebook and the deluge of "friends" it seems to attract, empirical evidence suggests 1 in a hundred (approximately) are worth wading through the other 99. All of this excludes the core group of friends you see in real life. They don't count as Facebook friends because, for the most part you sign up as an atomic bloc.

I don't do the friends thing well. I'm uncommunicative, often ill-tempered, not given to long rambling emails, don't do phone calls, and despise smalltalk (the activity, not the language).

The only reason people still talk to me is I cook a reasonable potjie (and they think there's a chance I can get free books from Amazon).

I'm rambling and off-topic. Wait, this is my blog, I can do what I want. If you don't like it hit Ctrl-L (this may not work in Opera or Safari, but that's about 1% of the population so who cares), type in http://www.wulffmorgenthaler.com and hit enter.

Enjoy my sense of humour.