Meet Little Man!

He's here! He's here!

Carrick McCann Ellis, aka Little Man

He arrived at 9:03 on June 28. Weighing in at 7 lbs 10 oz, standing 20" tall with a reach of 7".

He's a doll. A grunter, not a screamer. He haltingly tracks the girls' every movement. Loves to rest on his tummy curled up on your chest. Usually sleeps with one finger pressed into his ear, head thrown back, mouth agape. Already a quirky little thing. Could you expect less of an Ellis?

All of the futile conversations we had over his name before he arrived, then we held him and both said, "Carrick," a gaelic term for rock. Both our prayer for him and his already calm, stolid nature.

Why a rock? A rock remains, stands firm, acts as a foundation. I pray that he holds fast to the trustworthy word, insisting on truth.

But a rock also sacrifices self to sharpen. No one wants to walk through life with an impenetrable cliff. And I pray he learns to give himself for others.

And "McCann," my grandmother's maiden name and the longest legacy of faith in my family. A legacy we pray he continues.

I feel overly analytical and embarrassingly poetic with that explanation, but that's the over-thought why of his name. Don't hold it against him. He's already much cooler than me. I mean, have you seen his faux hawk??