Breaking News

This will have to be a hasty post. I've got a 7 month old tearing into an 8-pack of paper towels like it's Christmas morning, and my wife is inviting me to the 2 hour season premier of Bachelor Pad after making me sit through a 3 hour season finale of the Bachelorette last night. Bliss.

Ever build a sandcastle at the beach? Invest enough time into the sand creation and you'll guard it from any potential threat that may knock it down. One thing you can't defend against is the incoming tide. The waves WILL have their way with the sandy fortress. It's frustrating. All the time put into building the castle now feels like a waste. 

But the next time you build a sand castle, it's always better than the last. That's because you learn from the last castle. The new castle will have stronger walls, better shaped windows, and sturdier bridges. 

That's what I've learned in the last year. 

We had our plan set about how things were going to be - when to buy a house, where to work, weekly routine, etc. - but then we got a shocking surprise with a baby on the way. Plans changed.

Then the baby arrived and we went into a prevent defense. Had to think on our toes and not give up any big plays. We gave up our pre-baby routine for a new one. Plans changed.

We're finally getting comfortable with the baby and how to raise a child. It's a trip. We have our routine set, made financial strategies, and are finally (yes it takes a while, esp. for me) coming to terms with the new baby lifestyle. But then...Plans changed again.

We visited the doctor today to confirm the positive result on that pregnancy test. And we've got a new baby on the way. The Kicker will show his kicking ways to a younger sibling!

The tide came in. The waves wrecked our old sandcastle. All that hard work just to have to build a new one. 

Our plans are like sandcastles. Both get broken down and have to be rebuilt. But that's the best part. They get rebuilt stronger every time they get made over. Here's to new sandcastles and new plans!

Still Waiting

"You can't stay pregnant forever." 

Yes, these obvious words of hope were given to my anxiously waiting wife by hospital staff as she lay belly-up on a table during the doctor appointment this morning. While Wife expressed her displeasure at the waiting game, the STNA could only provide an eternal reference to help calm her nerves. I suppose it's not fair to be so sarcastic about the STNA's advice. She sees women everyday who just want to deliver the babies they've been carrying for months. 

Wife has been pregnant for 39+ weeks. We are days away from the due date. She is ready to deliver...now. Have you ever waited for the ice cream truck as a kid? The truck blares loud and repetitive music to announce is coming to a street near you. Kids can detect this music well. But sometimes the anticipation of the ice cream truck fogs a child's ability to hear the actual truck itself. A kid may be sitting in the basement watching a movie and hear the microwave go off upstairs. But the anxiety of waiting will tell the child "No, it's definitely the truck. Let's go!" Up comes the child - dollar in hand - out the front door; he/she arrives at the end of the driveway to a desolate street. 

Anticipating a baby delivery is similar to waiting for the ice cream truck. 

Suddenly, everything that Wife does becomes a symptom that indicates labor is only hours away. Every sneeze or muscle twitch is Googled and shown to be a symptom of approaching labor. I foolishly called her out and said, "You're not even to your due date yet. Give it a rest." Without hesitation, Wife shot back "Then YOU try carrying around a baby for 40 weeks and we'll see who starts talking."

I now stay silent; and even supportive in her anticipation of this delivery. As the due date approached, she has tried some interesting ways to begin induction:

A couple pulled us aside to inform us that Chipolte works. They said to just grab a burrito and within the day, we'll be rushing to the hospital. It worked for them, and another couple they knew. I won't pass on an excuse to consume a burrito made with ingredients that aren't injected with any hormones or antibiotics, and support family farmers that care for the land. Yum. We tried this last week. It didn't work. But I did finish my burrito, then started eating hers. She may have only made it a quarter of the way through her meal. 

Wife read that walking and exercise works every time. Since that time she's climbed more flights of stairs than a firefighter in training school. And she walks almost every day. As the temperature drops, she only increases her milage. Despite her efforts, no luck.

Just when we thought all hope was lost, December 10th showed promise. The calendar showed that there would be a full moon that night. This is the kind of break we've been anticipating. Her hospital experience says that crazy stuff - including many pregnancies - occur on nights of the full moon. As the sun went down that night, Wife came to life. She became excited. She asked questions like, "Do you think it would help if I would face the moon?" And, "Should we drive down to a beach?" We are 9 hours away from a body of water that experiences any tidal influence. This girl's gonna lose her mind. 

My biggest fears about this full moon madness were overshadowing the possibility of her going into labor. While Wife stayed occupied with trying to get induced, I feared she would pull a Michael Jackson in Thriller and start to transform into a werewolf. "No way" I thought. That's ridiculous. But her behavior still concerned me. 

'Cause this is thriller, thriller night. And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike. You know it's thriller, thriller night. You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller night. 

When we saw the doctor this morning, she tried yet another technique. Sweeping the membranes. I'll spare you the details. As it stands, we're still waiting on whether or not the sweeping process worked or not. 

None of these baby inducing tactics may work. They could all be done in vain. We - especially she - can be waiting in angst for a long time still. Good news though: you can't stay pregnant forever. At least we have that going for us. 

Closer And Closer

We are 5 weeks from the ETA. That would put us right in the middle of December. There's been a lot going on recently that indicates we are close to delivery...


Lack of mobility
I remember playing basketball back in high school. Our team got along really well. We were always looking out for each other. One of the bigger points our coach made was creating a turnover on defense by taking a charge. When one of our guys would get laid out on his back, and the ref made the move with his left hand behind his head and his right fist thrust forward, we were proud. First thing we did was extend our hand down to the teammate, he'd grab it, and we'd pull him up. You'll see that hand-clasped-pull-up teammate assist not just in basketball, but in all sports. It's a gesture that offers help, and displays cohesion of the teammates. 


Being on the cusp of delivery, Wife has some problems moving around sometimes. Her increased size has made it harder for her to do simple things. For example, when she needs to be helped out of her favorite spot on the couch, this move comes in handy. The second I see her struggle to get some upward momentum, her teammate - me - comes over with the ol' hand-clasped-pull-up teammate assist. It works perfect. We leave out the chest bump and butt slap at the end though. 


Baby room finished/things built
As it stands, we've got just about everything in place for the baby room. There's a crib, a glider (the new school way to say "rocking chair"), a dresser, clothes, books, a lamp, hamper, and so on. We even have one of those small wooden figurines of two parents holding a baby. 


Getting the baby room to that point was the hard part. Nothing comes fully assembled. Every time there was something to put together, I got my tools out. Not just some of my tools, all of my tools. Screwdrivers, socket sets, hammer, level, WD40, drill, blowtorch, circular saw, and jackhammer. Since we live in an apartment, I don't get to do much of my own home maintenance. Assembling baby junk is my equivalent of building a deck. 


Unfortunately, the only tools I needed were a Philips screwdriver, hammer, or Allen key. But you better believe that when something needed assembled, my whole tool collection came marching out. I've spent the last two weeks reading nothing but directions. Crib directions, dresser directions, swing directions, stroller directions... And now I can say I'm also fluent in both Spanish and French as well. 

Halfway through assembly and forgetting a few washers and bolts in the bottom of the box. 

Gypsy Couple
We were leaving the mall. Engaged in our own conversation, we didn't see an older couple passing by us. From nowhere, the kind lady asked us what we were having. "A boy," we replied. "Ahhhh a boy!" she exclaimed with her heavy Russian accent. She stared at us for a second then said, "And you're due next month. On the 22nd." Wife didn't respond because she couldn't understand this lady's dialect. I heard her perfectly clear but couldn't respond because I was shocked at how accurate she was. She didn't ask if it was the 22nd, it was almost as if she told us. I was able to manage a spattered, "Actually, it's the 18th." Then she said, "Yes, I can easily tell just by looking at you." 


The lady and her husband walked off as promptly as they came. I was floored. How could she be only 4 days off? 4 Days off is shocking considering we've heard guesses recently that have pegged Wife at only four months along. Four months? Really? I decided that this Russian couple must have some type of gypsy powers. I told Wife that if she delivers the Kicker on the 22nd, I will find that couple again and adopt them as honorary Godparents. And ask them if they foresee a Cleveland Championship anytime soon. 




While the above are signs that delivery day is close, there is still much to get done. 


What's most striking about the ETA is the first third of the acronym. The "E" part. E=estimated. Estimated to many guys simply means, "not now." And since the only issues I'm capable of dealing with are the ones happening in front of my face, planning for the actual Time of Arrival has been difficult. 


Of course, it's not unusual for a baby to be delivered early. While I cognitively understand that, I am physically having trouble of preparing for it. It's like being in college again: most people typically do all their studying and preparing the night before finals. But I can't afford to do all the preparation one night before the expected date. That would be nonsense.


Thankfully, Wife has been helping me be more proactive in preparing for the ETA. Here's how she's been helping me prepare...


The Route
Needing to take care of an appointment at the hospital, we thought it would be a good time for me to be familiar with the route to the hospital. The route really isn't that difficult. The hard part will be the time of year. Expecting in December and delivering on the east side of a city made famous for lake effect snow creates concern. Last winter, a white-out snowstorm created a parking lot of cars on the very route we need to take to the hospital. Workers leaving their jobs at 5 that evening didn't get home until 11. We must be ready for this. Now.....does anybody own a helicopter?


The most difficult about getting to the hospital will be figuring out parking. Wife showed me where to go, which entrance, and so on. Unfortunately, I had a hard time paying attention. Here's kind of how it went (my thoughts in italics):
Wife: Make sure you pass up this garage and keep following the road behind it.
Me: Ok
Wife: When you stop here, keep going past the intersection. Don't turn left.
Me: Yes
Wife: You keep going around the back of the hospital along this road until it dead ends into.........


Oh look, a train. It's goin' fast too........I bet I could jump off that bridge onto the top of it while it's moving. Then hop from one car to the other. Just like cowboys did back in the Old West. I'd get a six-shooter and stop the bad guy who was hijacking the train. We could get into a gun fight and when I injure him, I'd walk up to him and pull out my favorite Dirty Harry line, "I know what you're thinking. 'Did he shoot six shots or only five?'". Then I would arrest him. 


Wife: .......So can you make sure you remember all that? Because you're going to drop me off and have to park the car by yourself.
Me: No prob
We're screwed.


Who do you call?
When it's 'go' time, I guess you have to call the doctor. You say something like, "Hey, there's water everywhere and she's in pain." Then the doctor is supposed to meet you at the hospital I think. Anyway, the doctor has a number. And that number was put on a card and given to me by my responsible wife. I unfortunately have no idea where I put that card. Do you think 9-1-1 will eventually patch us over to the right person?


Pack a bag
The delivery usually requires a couple day stay at the hospital. This means we need to have a bag of clothes, belongings, toiletries, etc. ready to pick up and go. Wife dropped various hints that it would be a good thing to get this bag packed now. So I got right on it.....starting with the perfect iPod playlist for delivery day. And that's as far as I've gotten.


Now what?
The baby room is set, Wife is showing, people are predicting, and we need to be ready to go at a moments notice. But my plan of preparing on the 14th - the night before the due date - isn't the smartest idea. At some point Irresponsible Me has to become Responsible Me. The time to prepare, plan, and - most importantly - DO is now. So I'm going to get right on that........tomorrow sounds like the perfect time. 

Off Days Are Now On Days

When did the off day become the busiest day of the week? It was great when the off day meant unlimited possibilities. Now the off day means check marks in the boxes of a to-do list. Has this  happened to you? 


Today was one such example.....


We had a doctor's appointment to check on the baby early this morning. Wife says early appointments are better because you don't get backed up in the waiting room like later in the day. She's right; but now I'm dozing off while reading the news and surrounded by pregnant ladies. Being at these 2 week check ups makes me feel like I'm an important part of the baby process. It makes me feel all grown up and mature asking important questions about the baby.


Still on the topic of being all grown up. The nurse showed us into the room. I went to take my keys out of my pocket and noticed my fly was wide open. Not just cracked open or halfway unzipped; it was as if my zipper called in sick that day and didn't show up for work. At least I hadn't spent the last 23 minutes in a waiting room full of ladies, then standing around a bunch of nurses while Wife's blood pressure was being taken. Could you have imagined if that would have happened?!


There's never a moment so awkward as when you're all alone with your significant other waiting for the nurse. It's like regressing to the moment in the relationship when you both first met. The room sits in complete quiet. Any talking we do is at whisper level for some reason. To break the weird silence, I decided to ask Wife a question I'd been thinking about.


Me: What should we do with the chord blood?
Wife: Nothing. There's no way we can afford to have it frozen and stored.
Me: Idea. What if we took the chord blood and froze it ourselves. Just in case we needed it for a major operation someday (before you wince in disgust, chord blood contains essential stem cells that can treat major diseases or something. Most effective when used within family)
Wife: That's illegal. They didn't let you keep your appendix when they removed that did they?
Me: That's not fair though. It was MY appendix. I grew up with it. Same with the chord blood. 
Wife: It's disgusting. We'll donate it. I'm not having chord blood frozen in our home somewhere.
Me: Fine....................Think it's still possible to get my appendix back?


We headed downtown after the appointment to meet with our financial advisor. She does an incredible job helping us situate our finances and make smart money choices. We thought it wise to seek her counsel with how to strategically allocate our monies with a baby on the way. We sat and spoke for about 3 hours. We left with a plan in place and completely exhausted.  


We got home a full work shift - 8 hours - after we had left in the morning. 


Winding down with a movie sounded good. Wife suggested the movie Sanctum. It's about a team of spelunking cave adventurers that get trapped in the worlds largest underground cave. The whole movie consisted of people swimming and crawling through narrow and closed passes. This was perfect for a guy who's claustrophobic.


Let's be clear about one thing: I'm not afraid of encloses spaces.......I just start to pass out if I happen to have no exit in a small space. There's a difference. After spending the whole movie with my head between my knees to keep the blood flowing to my brain, the movie ended. 


This was the "off day." Waiting, fly open, doctors, driving, downtown, meetings, scary dumb movies, etc. Is this how to spend our time off?


It's good though. What kind of parent's would we be if we weren't taking the proper precautions for the baby? We have peace of mind that his heartbeat is normal, and his health is in check. We're prepared for the delivery. We are taking the right financial steps in considering his future. Watching a movie that induces my fear of enclosed places really has nothing to do with preparing for the baby. But everything else is worth the busy off day. 


He better thank us someday.

Some Explaining To Do

(click to enlarge)

The above picture was taken only days ago. It is of an envelope taped to our apartment door. On the envelope is written You have some explaining to do! That statement was written by Wife - made out to me. Ever get that feeling where all the blood rushes out of your head and is replaced by dread? That's what I felt upon reading this. This saga doesn't begin here though; it began a while back..........

A few weeks ago, Wife needed some money. Due to my lack of availability and the way we format our finances, I needed to take out $280 cash for a particular purchase she was making (no, not drugs...at least not while she's pregnant). I took out the cash and put it in an envelope until she needed it. A few days went by and turns out Wife didn't need it. I could now go back and deposit the money into my account. Since I'm under the impression that money sitting in an envelope ages like whiskey in an oak barrel, the money sat in that envelope - on our kitchen counter - for weeks - and weeks - and more weeks. 

Apparently 280 bucks doesn't age well in an envelope; and after over a month it was still just $280. During that time, Wife had to constantly prompt me to take the money back to the bank. Constantly. She got fed up of having the money sit around. We decided to make the deposit while we ran errands. Guess what? Bank's not open on Columbus Day (or Thanksgiving if you're from Canada). We accidentally left the money in her car that day, and she drove to work with the envelope full of money in it. Wife called and told me, "I don't feel comfortable having the money in my car, can you PLEASE deposit it tomorrow??"

No problem. 

Jump forward 2 days. As always, my thoughts in italics.

Wife: Did you get that cash deposited?

Me: No, you never gave me the envelope. 

Wife: I didn't? I'm pretty sure I left it right by your work bag for you to remember.

Me: Don't think so. I would've remembered taking it.

At this point, we head out to the library. Upon returning home we re-searched the car for the missing envelope of cash. No sign of it anywhere. We go upstairs and search our shelves, counters, bags, closets, pockets, everywhere. No sign of this evasive envelope full of money. We conclude that we must have accidentally thrown it out when we emptied the trash just a day before. 

Now it's on. Wife get's very uncomfortable with stuff like this. She worries, and over-thinks everything. She can't move on with her day until she has successfully closed all the doors of previous tasks. On the opposite side,  I under-react. I'm very passive and easygoing - to a fault - with matters like this. Almost as if $280 is some amount of cash I can expect to find in the pocket of an old jacket at any time. I'll be the first to admit it's not a good approach. 

I decide now would be the perfect time to apply some Rain-X to the windshields of our cars. Wife makes one last venture down to the car just to double check.......no luck. She went back upstairs. 

Cleaning cars is therapeutic. The result is a tangible accomplishment that may offset some type of stressor, such as losing money. It took a good 25 minutes to get those windshields perfect, and they repel rain quite well now. Back upstairs I go.

Proud as ever, I turned to walk in to our apartment only to find the door locked. And that's when I read the envelope hanging on the door from the beginning. 

(Remember this one from the beginning?)

My first thoughts are, "Hey! We found it! Yes!" Then I read the handwritten words: You have some explaining to do! Blood = gone from head and face.

Oh man! I thought. What kind of explaining will I have to do? She found it, she should be happy!

I turned the doorknob and found the door to be dead bolted shut. Unusual. She should know I was coming up here. After I unlocked that, I found that she had locked me out with the chain too! 

What's going on here?! 

Me: (with my lips and nose sticking through the 3-inch wide crack in the door way) Hey! What's the big idea?!

Wife: YOU tell me!

Me: How about you tell me! I'm the one locked out for no reason!

Wife: GUESS where I found the envelope of cash?

Me: How am I supposed to know, I'm in the parking lot cleaning the cars!

Wife unchains the door and lets me in. 

Me: Hey, we should be glad we got the money. What's wrong? 

Wife then enlightens me with one of the single greatest monologues in the history of our relationship..........

Wife: I FOUND IT IN YOUR BAG! You TOOK the envelope and put it IN. YOUR. BAG! YOU had me con-VINCED that it was MY pregnant brain (reference). It was never me! It's always YOU! And it feels good! I'm keeping the money with me, I'll go with you to the bank. I don't know how you do it EV-REE-TIME.

I'm floored. Here's the weird part: she wasn't angry. The best way to describe it is to compare the way she was talking to me the same way Dr. Leo Marvin spoke to Bob in "What About Bob" when he went crazy at the end. He's so frustrated that it's not anger, it's a helpless plea for someone to see the world from his perspective. That's what Wife sounded like. 

At this point, my body has been frozen for 25 straight seconds. I don't know how to begin to digest the words I just heard. My brain is still hung up on how she found it in my bag. I put it in there? I have absolutely NO recollection of this. Zero. Not even a fuzzy thought. Sometimes when you hear something that you forgot, you may remember it. Not this time. Nothing. I don't even have a feeling of doing this in my past. The problem is, it HAD to be me. I'm the only one who puts stuff in my bag.

Once I get past that, I'm immediately hung up on how relieved she was that it was my stupid mistake. She said "it feels good!" How stupid am I that she actually feels good that it wasn't her? Then she practically decides that she needs to hold my hand while we walk to the bank to make the deposit. And I don't even blame her.

No words back. She has made her statement. I have no rebuttal. Still can't move at this point. For some reason, my brain can process none of what was just said. 

Unbelievably enough, she goes on.........

Wife: This whole situation even made me have a contraction! Know what I did AFTER I had my stress contraction?? I took out the tub of Cool-Whip and spooned it! 

(she proceeds to take out a tub of Cool-Whip from the freezer and show me that a good 3/4 of that baby was gone. Like a werewolf just up and scooped the white fluffy goodness out with its claws and went to town. She then finishes...) THIS IS WHAT YOU DID TO ME!!

There is some explaining to do. It's 5 days after the money disappearance and I haven't the foggiest idea of how that envelope got into my bag. 

Cheese Fries

Go back to being a youngster for a second. Think age 8-12. Remember watching movies at that age? You may see a good movie, then immediately want to be that movie when it was over. Maybe you saw a cowboy movie as a kid, then "cowboy" was your thing for a while. I repeatedly watched "The Sandlot", "Independence Day", and "Cleveland Rocks: The Story of the 1995 Cleveland Indians" when I was young. After every movie, I went outside to either play home run derby with the brothers, kill a bunch of imaginary aliens, or reenact scenes from the '95 playoffs. It only took two hours of well scripted cinema to shape the mind of a 10 year old and inspire him to be big time baseball player, or world saving superhero. 


Confession: a good movie still has that effect on me at age 25. I recently watched a movie called "Food Inc." which shows how mass produced food is made. The facts were startling. As soon as the movie was over, I looked up all the local farmers markets in town and what their hours were. Then I saw a movie called "FoodMatters." It talks about how the human body can heal itself if given the correct vitamins and minerals through raw foods. 24 hours later I'm dragging Wife to the market to stock up on carrots, broccoli, peppers, and a bunch of other fresh-from-the-ground-foods that I never knew existed. 


It's sad. I used to dream of being a bottom of the 9th home run hitting World Series winning champion!!, or a swooping in at the last second - earth saving hero!!. Now documentaries on healthy food get me hyped to be.................a super health food proponent!!


Yawn. 


But that's the way it is. And this doesn't make Wife too happy. She is 2/3 the way through this pregnancy, and it hasn't been easy on her. Growing a human inside a uterus requires a lot of delicate attention. It's a sensitive process really. All the books I read talk about how so many variables affect the baby's growth and development in the womb. But because she is the one that has life growing inside of her, Wife isn't always up for hearing my latest health tips. (my thoughts in italics)


Me: Hey guess what!?
Wife: Yes.
Me: I just saw that a diet of at least 80% raw foods will deliver the best amount of natural vitamins and minerals that can help the body defend itself against diseases and fight off sickness.
Wife: Great.
This is a long shot, but...
Me: What do you think about eating a lot more raw fruits and vegetables while you're pregnant? It could help make a super baby!
Wife: I'm hungry. Wanna go out to eat?
 I know you're not asking me, this is your way of telling me. I'll call Winking Lizard right now and tell them to have a hot plate of cheese fries ready for you. 
Me: I guess we can go out. Where were you thinking?
Wife: Winking Lizard
Me: I see. What are you thinking about getting?
Wife: Cheese Fries


For the past 4 months, Winking Lizard has had a standing reservation for us. They see our car pull in and immediately the wait staff sends in for a plate of cheese fries. We've become good friends with the servers. We know them all by their first names, and will occasionally catch their kids' dance recitals. This has gone too far. There's no getting through to Wife. She and the cheese fries are insuperable. 


Me: You know the cheese they use on those fries isn't even real cheese. It's just a bunch of...
Wife: Do I talk to you about your food while you eat?
That's cuz you can't dis super foods.
Me: Sorry
____________________________________________________________
(fast forward a month)


Doctor: Tell me what's been happening.
Wife: While helping my husband chaperone his group yesterday, we spent a good 8 hours walking around Cedar Point. Halfway through the day. It became painful to walk, and I started to cramp up. 
Doctor: Well.........my guess is that the heavy walking has given you some early contractions. 
You mean because Wife helped me with my job all day, she's experiencing a bunch of pain?
Wife: What's that mean? Is this a problem?
Doctor: Well, we will have to run a test.
Wait! It wasn't her fault! She never even complained. 
Wife: For what?
Doctor: To see if you're at risk for a pre-term delivery in the next two weeks.
Woah, she'll be almost 3 months early. Way too early. 


We later received a call from the Doctor saying that there was nothing to worry about. The test came back negative.  


As it was mentioned earlier, growing a human inside a uterus is requires a lot of delicate attention. I'm not carrying the baby. As evidenced by the conversation with the doctor, it's hard on the body. I couldn't do that. I don't want to do that. It's scary, and it's too much responsibility. She deserves a trophy, an award, a prize, or.........cheese fries. That's the least I could do for her. Stop badgering her about health and nutrition and at least get the girl some fries covered with ooey, gooey, (all natural!) cheese. 

Located in Huron, Ohio, this farm will actually ship you their freshest veggies to you!! Wow!! 

www.chefs-garden.com/

The Playlist: Track 1 "Simple Man"

Every Monday is Playlist Monday!*


A few weeks ago we found out that Baby Whiz can hear inside the belly. This is great news. Why not start the baby early on developing a taste for good music - Lynyrd Skynyrd, CCR, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Pearl Jam, Kenny Chesney, 311, and perhaps Metallica. 


There is no definitive study about the effect of music on a baby inside the mother's womb. Although, the baby did start rolling around when "Thriller" was going on during the Legends tribute to Michael Jackson. Who can resist dancing to that? That's evidence enough for me. 


In response to these findings, I've decided to make a playlist of songs for Baby Whiz (and any future baby Whiz's) that I believe are important for my soon-to-be-son to have with him for the rest of his life.** These are songs that have significant meaning one way or another. Songs that the little guy can always learn and draw life truth from. 




Playlist Monday Track 1: Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd   


(feel free to play the video as you explore the explanation)

This song is a no-doubter. If I were making a kickball team, I would pick this song first. If I needed a song to bat in the bottom of the 9th with the bases loaded and two outs and down by three runs, I would pick this one. 


I recall hearing this song in high school and thinking, 'This is going to be the song I want my future child to hear someday.' Here's why:

• Simple Man sums itself up perfectly in the title. 
• It's lyrically deep in meaning, but concise at the same time. 
• The music itself is soothing and ushers the listener into enjoying the duration of the song.

Wife already let me play this on my iPod while putting the ear buds up to her belly. 

Simple Man analyzed:

The song is a mother's plea to her son to remember a short set of honest truths about life. I'm not a mother, and even if we were having a daughter, I'd dedicate this song to her. So it works in a variety of dimensions. 

"take your time...don't live to fast"

"troubles will come, and they will pass"

"you'll find love"

"don't forget...there is someone up above"

These are all random pickings of life found through experience. It's as though the speaker is trying to search his/her brain for some nuggets of knowledge and pass them along. 

"forget your lust for the rich man's gold, all that you need is in your soul" (definitely!)

"don't you worry, you'll find yourself. follow your heart, and nothing else" (great stuff!)

And the best part is the chorus: "Be a simple kind of man, or be something you love and understand." If my kid(s) can get this, I'll be a lucky dad. 

It's not easy to understand and apply these timeless truths at this day in age. I worry about what kind of sociological environment my children will grow up in years down the road. Things aren't as simple as they used to be; which will make it all the more difficult for Baby Whiz to grow up a Simple Man. But, hopefully the lyrics of this song will help out in that journey. 

One can only hope. 

* We will add one song every Monday evening to the playlist. So be sure to drop by every Monday to see what song makes the list.

**Wife is not in any way involved with the creation of this playlist. Based on her taste in music compared to mine, we would never be able to assemble a playlist of any sort. 

There Was The Moment For Me, Then The Moment For Her

After finding out about the pregnancy, the process that follows is a lot like floating down a lazy river.

Lazy River's are my favorite attractions at any water park. There's never a line to get in the river. It's an opportunity to grab a tube and float down a water loop of tranquility and catch up on some rest. Grab your boo and hold hands as the river jets send you both bouncing off rocky walls and through the fun water ways. But, as any lazy river fanatic knows that's never how it works. There's always wacky kids trying to get around the lazy river as fast as they can, completely defeating the purpose of a LAZY river. They nearly tip over other floaters and create too many unnecessary waves. Lifeguards blow the whistles constantly, ruining the peaceful atmosphere. And the trickling water from above bridges and rocks are more like waterfalls of doom.

Here's where the analogy of the lazy river and post-finding-out-pregnancy process relates...(as always, thoughts in italics)

After the wife and I discover the wonderful news of the pregnancy we grab a two-person tube and step into the shallow waters of the lazy river of pregnancy. It's a bit chilly at first, but it doesn't take long to get used to. We sit down on the tube and let the flow of the river wash us toward our 9 month destination. As we grab hands on the tube we look at each other and think, Hmmm, this isn't so bad. We can do this! The flow of the river is steady and light. It's not too fast, and not too slow. Then from out of nowhere, a rowdy group of splashing kids comes by. Look out! Splish-splash! "Is it a boy or girl?" It's been two weeks since we found out we were pregnant. Let's go step by step here.  "Are you gonna find out?" Yes, but you'll be the last to know. "If it's a girl what's the name?" Ira Fuse "What about a boy?" Seymour Butts "You should name it Eduardo!" Do we look Colombian? It's not so much the asking about the gender and name as it is the obtuse suggestions. Eduardo? Really?The splashing children will make their presence known here and there throughout the lazy river of pregnancy.

Just as we get used to the easy going pace of the river, the first ultrasound comes along at 12 weeks. At this point, we realized we have been floating for a good while now. The whole first trimester is over. We've hit the water jets in the river and picked up some speed. With the speed comes a lot of spinning around in the tube. That dizzying feeling is mirrored in the feelings felt after the first couple doctor visits. Eat this, don't eat that. Exercise, but not too vigorously. Take vitamins, walk frequently. Etc......It's a wild ride.

Finally, on any good lazy river there are waterfalls! Everyone tries to do the same thing to avoid these waterfalls too. They'll kick off the wall with their feet, or paddle frantically with their fingers (b/c there's no physical way to get any leverage when your rump sinks and wedges into the impossibly tight tube locking your arms and legs in place). But, the waterfalls plunge off the top of bridges directly onto the middle of the river, or they careen from the side walls along the river. The waterfalls are unavoidable. These waterfalls are a huge part of the pregnancy river too. The fact that they're powerful, unavoidable, and completely dousing make them a perfect analogy.

Waterfalls are the realization that you - yes you - are going to be a father. I enjoy doing things with Wife, or by myself when she's not around.  My life is spent running, working out, swimming, hiking, building fires, working hard, fixing my car, going to the lake, reading, going out the the funnest places around town, and doing about a million more things. Now, I realized that I can't just think about me, or me and Wife. We have to welcome a third party.  Back when me and Wife were dating, I began to realize how selfless the act of love was. Life became less about me, and more about us. Being on this lazy river of pregnancy together, we're about to hit some waterfalls of truth.

My first waterfall on this river came after the first ultrasound (about 13 weeks).  As I saw the images of a child in my wife's uterus, it sank in to my brain that this is real. I am that child's father. I didn't think I could pull it off. Other men can, not me though. A while after the ultrasound I told my wife what I was thinking.  I told her that I still like playing in tree forts, romping through the woods, exploring outside, building things with legos, and playing whiffle ball. "How can a child raise a child!?!" I exclaimed. In her infinite wisdom, my wife's rebuttal was on the money. "Well," she began. "If you still like to do those things, I guess our son is going to be pretty lucky to have you as a dad."

My wife got soaked by a waterfall on the lazy river of pregnancy also. Her body has slowly morphed from usual-her, to this round-bellied version of her. We spent a week on vacation at the Jersey Shore during her 19th week. There weren't any full-length mirrors at our rental house there. She went about 8 days without seeing her full image. Upon our return home, she was shocked. She had the opportunity to see her full figure in our mirror here at home. The realization that her body was physically changing was a lot to digest. She's used to looking in a mirror and seeing usual-her. The petite little figure she is. But staring into a mirror at 20 weeks of pregnancy, a lot changed. And it didn't seem like the real her was being reflected back. I wish I had something wonderfully comforting to say after she told me about crying after looking in the mirror. But she's doing great now regardless. We get to see and feel kicks from her growing belly. And I think she looks better than ever.

I was drenched from the reality of that first waterfall. It overwhelmed me quite a bit. But we got through it. Her waterfall hit hard to. But it wasn't enough to knock either one of us out of the river. The neat part about our trip down the lazy river is that we still sit in the same two-person tube together. That's the best way to travel down the river...together. I wouldn't want to float down this river alone, and I know she's the same way. And we've held hands the whole time. We're over half way around the lazy river of pregnancy at this point. There will be more splashing kids, fast currents, spinning, and big waterfalls too. But it's way more manageable if we're holding hands.

Something Happened And I Can't Explain It

Here's the point at which I realized the pregnancy was affecting me against my will: I'm walking down the Boardwalk in Seaside Heights, NJ wanting to fight every guy we walk past, singing Metallica in my head, and thinking about my next workout. This is NOT the usual me. After a few nights of observing similar behavior, I knew something was up.

It's clear that pregnant women experience a variety of changes during pregnancy (emotions, physical, mental fatigue, etc.). And I firmly believe that it is important for the man to be available for the woman in each of the previously described facets of change. For example, if Girl is riding an emotional roller coaster b/c of surging hormones, Boy needs to be understanding and patient and willing to be emotionally available for what girl may need...I think.

My two books - The Expectant Father and Dude, You're Gonna Be A Dad! - have done a swell job at prepping me for these changing times. I'm comfortable knowing how to respond to any pregnancy situation that may arise with Wife.


But what about a pregnancy situation that arrives with me?


Let's get back to ol' Metal-head from before. I think I'm typically a mild-mannered guy. I take a very laid-back but confident approach to life, and will only turn aggressive if threatened or if Wife is disrespected. But what's been happening the past two months is unreal.

The symptoms of rage-man began in June - about two months after we found out about the pregnancy - when I decided to trade in my running workouts for weights. Summer is usually when I get back into running. Weather is great, trails are ready, and the playlists are set. But rage-man decided that this will be a summer to strength gain, and try new sandbag workouts. And so it began. Rage-man took off in a different direction than old-me would have.

Not long after the strength training took off, rage-man decided to increase his capacity for craziness. Old-me would typically go for some good country or old-school Hip-Hop to set the tone for summer. Rage-man had different plans. The pace setting strums of Country were quickly replaced by the fast and furious storm of Metallica. I immediately put four Metallica albums on my iTunes with more on the way. The CD player in my car plays only Metallica. And rage-me enjoys every second of it. Heavy workouts, constant Metallica...maybe this will fade.

With big workouts 5 days a week and Metallica on shuffle, rage-me decided to add one more piece to the puzzle of horror: fighting. I got into a fight in 5th grade once. A dude was taunting me during recess basketball. After I got my shot blocked, I walked over to him and proceeded to throw a fury of punches at him. The noon aide broke it up and sent me to the office. That was the only fight I ever started. Thankfully rage-me hasn't gotten in any fights recently. But he's sure been looking. While me and my wife were in Seaside Heights, NJ for a family vacation, I knew something was wrong. Rage-me wanted to fight every guy we walked past. At one point, I was attempting to get my wife's younger brothers (not 21) into a restaurant. We were told by the hostess that they were not permitted. I politely asked for her to get the manager. She proceeded to return with a 6'4'' bald guy with a Fu Manchu and tats all up his arms. Good job bringing over the "manager." No matter, rage-me thought he could take the tatted "manager" no problem. Thankfully, old-me intervened and we left.

This is how life has been for the past two months. Continuous cycles of big workouts, hard metal, and wanting to fight anything with a pulse. This deemed research.

Google - "guy testosterone levels during pregnancy" - USA Today article. Here's what we find.

A direct line, "level's of the stress hormone called "cortisol" - the same ancient chemical that instructs men to fight or take flight - tend to spike about four to six weeks after men learn they're going to be fathers..."


That explains quite a bit. And I thought someone was giving me testosterone shots in my sleep. The article suggests to learn more about raising a child, and find out how to handle delivery day. Doing so should help soon-to-be fathers cope with this hormonal change.

That's the stupidest advice I've ever heard. Somebody should knock his lights out.

Pregnant Brain is Real, I've Seen It

My wife serves as an important extension of my brain. Not only does she keep track of everything she has to do everyday, she also keeps track of mine. I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed. As a matter of fact, if you opened the shed right now, you'd see a variety of items. A shiny new lawnmower (not me), maybe a fantastic spade shovel (still not me), or a splendid ax used for chopping wood (strike three). Nope, I would be the rusted, three-pronged hand cultivator that everyone has but no one uses. My memory is about that useful.

This seems like a good time to share this gem of a story. Before the two of us head out one night, it's time to grab the Big Four (phone, wallet, keys, knife). Knife...check. Keys...check. Phone...check. Wallet...where the heck is it? We start the search. She asks the typical, "Where did you have it last?" If I knew the answer to that, we wouldn't be looking. "Not sure," I respond. We look everywhere you're supposed to for a wallet - tables, drawers, bags, counters, etc. It's nowhere. A solid ten minutes pass when I hear from afar, "Found it!" I turn the corner to see my wife pulling the wallet out of the freezer. Obviously, the second most popular place where lost wallets are found.

The good news is, I've become accustomed to this memory-less lifestyle. I'm used to running into the kitchen to tell my wife great news, only to completely forget what I was going to say. You may even find me retracing my steps to the original point of thought inspiration so I can look for whatever environmental triggers worked the first time. Needless to say, a sharp memory is not my gift. And we all have to adapt to our own world.

My wife has used her great memory on many occasions to save me. "Remember you have to call the doctor," she'd say. Or, "You left your swim trunks on the patio." These simple yet direct statements have given my brain such sweet relief over the past years, I don't know how to effectively thank her. My past is loaded with so many holes, unknowns, and rabbit trails to nowhere, that it's a sweet victory when I can finish whatever business I originally started without forgetting.

Marriage made life easier in this sense. My wife has been there to pick up my memory slack.

Then, it hit.

Only a couple months into the pregnancy, we collectively diagnosed my wife with pregnant brain. It's easy to see the frustration all through her. It starts with her asking in a demanding tone, "Where did I put the hospital bills!?" Like I'm gonna know where the hospital bills are. Check the freezer. She proceeds to look for whatever is lost in calm manner that quickly accelerates until she gives up and collapses on the couch. "Where did they go?" she whimpers.

WELCOME TO MY WORLD!! 


Of course I don't say that. I only think that. For a while during the first signs of pregnant brain I was excited that she now has the chance to view the world from the same memory loss window as I do everyday. 


Now I've realized that it only makes two people who have no idea where the keys are instead of one.

Funny Joke Girl...You Should Tell It Again

With wife working nights and me working days, our schedules overlap at odd hours. On this particular day, she was arriving home early in the morning just as I was crawling out of bed.

I'm very vulnerable in the morning. As my body wakes up, my brain remains tucked snugly under the covers resting on the pillow. Wife saw this as an opportune time to break me some big news. As I made my way down the hallway in my undergarments, my eyes still sealed shut, she began...(my thoughts in italics)

"Ummm, you know how I haven't been feeling good lately? Well, I took some pregnancy tests at work, just to be sure." 

Brain, you may want to get out of bed for this one. Hurry up now, she's still talking...

"It said I was pregnant."

I've seen this scene play out in movies before...

"Then, just to make sure, I took two more. And THEY were all positive too."

React to this news please. Make the reaction exciting enough so she doesn't feel scared or think you don't care.

I respond, "Wow, are you serious? How do you feel?" 

Good job! Slight surprising disbelief, and you also checked up on her feelings! I've learned so much from my past mistakes and am now applying it!

"Yeah," she says, "I wasn't sure at first, which is why I took a couple more to make sure. What do you think?"

Here's what I think: Can we afford this? We have some money saved up, and can supplement that by taking out an additional 10% from my paychecks. She has to complete school still. If she can have the baby during a school break, she won't have to miss classes at all and can still graduate one year from now. We're also gonna need a bigger apartment. We can either look in the building we're presently at or go somewhere else. I have a flexible schedule at work. That way I can watch the baby while she's at school and she can watch the baby while I go into work later. Let's do this.


Here's what I say: "That's awesome!"

She hit's me with this line, "What is today?"

Not knowing what that has to do with anything I tell her, "Friday, April 1st. Why?"

She smiles and asks, "Does that day mean anything to you?"

I search my brain. April 1st is significant...Oh yeah! Of course! I can't believe I almost forgot. 


"It's Opening Day!" I proudly respond. "We're going to the Indians' Home Opener!" We've had these tickets since December.

Still smiling she says, "Yeah, and what else?"

Oh, now I get it. "This is a joke isn't it?" I ask. "It's April Fools Day." She's a funny one that wife. She sure knows how to greet a guy 45 seconds after he wakes up.


Fast forward 19 days.


I'm at the office when I get a text from my wife that reads, "CALL ME." All caps, this must be important.

Hoping that we've just won some large sum of money that will pay off our school debt, I dial her cell. "What's up girl?"

I hear her breathing fast, nearly hyperventilating, and almost in tears. "I just took a pregnancy test," she says. "It was positive!"