All girls love at least one TLC show.  Before we got engaged, Stunning loved a show where they’d surprise someone with an engagement.  Many girls love A Wedding Story, a Pregnancy Story, a Baby Story, a Baptism Story…  Anyway, in the vein of TLC, the following is the story of Junior’s birth written by the wife:

Junior was two weeks early and it was quite the shock to everyone (including my doctor) that he came when he did. My big sister, who was also due March 21, had been showing prelabor signs for days…she’d been nesting, her body was giving her the “signs”, and she’d been having irregular contractions. We were all sure that she’d have her little one early last week. On Saturday night (the 6th), my parents and I threw a baby shower for a good friend of ours. I felt great (aside from being enormous and completely bloated) and didn’t feel at all like I was going to go into labor within a matter of hours.

The shower wrapped up and we sat on my parent’s porch with them until about 11:30 just chatting and enjoying the nice weather. John and I went to bed with absolutely NO idea that it was our last night’s sleep without a baby. Around 3:45, I woke up. I didn’t have to go to the bathroom but I’d learned that if you are awake, you may as well go because you’re going to have to go again in a minute anyway. I stood up and took the first step to the bathroom and—CRAP! I peed my pants! I ran to the bathroom and called to John. I said, “John? I think my water just broke. But not really, I think I just peed my pants. I don’t know.” We had a quick google search session to find out whether I was going into labor and decided to go back to sleep (responsible, eh?) because a) only like 30% of women’s water breaks on its own and my mom’s never did so I figured mine wouldn’t either and b) I really thought it was just me wetting myself—the idea of losing bladder control at 9 months pregnant isn’t that bizarre. I woke up a few more times during the night and every time I stood up, I’d wet myself AGAIN! At that point, I was pretty sure Jack was on his way. I woke John up and we decided to head to the hospital “Just in case”. I was still pretty sure they’d send me home and tell me to buy some depends or something. We got to the hospital and pressed the buzzer for them to let us into the Labor and Delivery wing. A woman came back on the speaker and said, “May I help you?” Um…really lady, why else would someone be buzzing that? It was very awkward when I responded, “Umm…I think I’m going to have a baby?”

The rest of the day is kind of a blur. They gave me pitocin to speed up my contractions because I wasn’t having any yet and once the water breaks, the baby needs to get out in 24 hours or the risk of infection increases. So apparently contractions are kind of painful. After a couple hours of dealing with those and squeezing John’s hand into oblivion, I got an epidural. John made the mistake of looking at the needle and decided at that point that he’d keep his eyes averted from my body during the next few hours.  The epidural didn’t hurt that I remember—probably because it felt like nothing compared to the contractions. Drugs are awesome, by the way. I have a friend who is a rockstar and is going to have her baby naturally and I don’t know how she will handle it. Those first few hours of contractions were enough for me to lose my mind. Ashley, you’re awesome. Anyway, I managed to take a nap which was good because my sleep the past few weeks had been rough (especially that night) and I didn’t realize how much energy I’d need to push this little bambino out. We checked into the hospital at 7:30 AM and I began pushing around 5:45. 

Junior arrived at 7:16 PM on March 7, 2010. He was 8 lbs, 3 oz and 19 1/2 inches long. The doctor and nurses all told me how big of a baby he was. They seemed pretty shocked when I informed them that he was 2 weeks early. My doctor didn’t deliver Junior because she wasn’t on call that weekend. She came to see me the next day and said, “Well that was a bit of a surprise.” Indeed it was but thank goodness! I’d have had a 10 pounder if he’d waited until his due date!

Junior scowling at his mom.

Junior’s “Going Home” Outfit. Last summer, I lived in Texas for a clerkship while John was still up in Nebraska. He’s a creeper and made me a coffee mug with a ton of his different faces on it. He said it was “to remember him” or something. It creeped me out. It still creeps me out. Bridget & her friend had this made to continue creeping me out. It says, “Yup, That’s My Dad!”

I may look exhausted and gross, but I don’t care. Look how cute my son is. Woah, my son. That’s weird. 

When we came home, Junior was greeted with some welcoming goodies: A sign on the carport gate, “It’s A Boy!” Wreath, Truman & Boo sporting blue bows, edible bouquet from John’s work colleagues, flowers, and a fridge full of pasta!

We got everything for Junior that he could possibly want.  However, as we walked through a store the other day, I realized he lacked one thing that every child should have.  And that would be a puppet.
 
Ok.  I’ll be honest.  When I saw the puppet, I got it for myself.  A baby doesn’t need a puppet… as a child probably can’t even operate one until they’re at least 5 years old. 
Anyway, as I saw the puppet and realized that I needed him, I had to test him out.  It was much to the chagrin of my wife, as I began to walk around this department store using Harry’s voice (that’s the puppet’s name) and asking her questions.  Harry had just met Stunning, so he needed some answers about her. 
At one point, it came to blows, and Stunning stated, “Who did I marry?!?  Would you just grow up?” Then a sales associate came from behind a stack of clothes and stated, “What the fun in that?”  I told the nice lady thank you and we walked away.. then Harry realized he didn’t say thank you, so he quickly yelled it back to the lady across the store. 
I was then instructed to take the puppet off my hand until we got home. 

My wife decided it would be fun to use a little internet magic.  Last week, I discussed what would happen if Junior took after my looks.  Of course, since she isn’t quite as selfish as I am, she naturally wondered what he would look like if he had both of our faces combined.  (I hear that’s actually what happens in children… they take one person and combine it with another and you get this mix… go figure.)
Anyway, this is what the internet told us our child will look like:

Interesting. It appears this child is actually an adult with some child like characteristics.  Honestly, he looks like a young human Yoda…  Of course, I’m very excited to see he’ll wear a hoody.  Not quite sure how I feel about the jean jacket though, we might have to have a little talk about that.

Stunning has always had a history of strange dreams.  For some reason, she has dreams where I’m cheating on her and she’s the type of girl that emotions in those dreams spill over into awakedness, to make up a word.  Other times she’ll punch me in the middle of the night.  I’ve been kicked a few times.  She loves to talk in her sleep, sometimes carrying on long conversations where I can’t hear the other side.  She’s called me from her sleep asking where I was (I was driving home, but she thought I was lost.)  And she has a very short temper when she’s in the “in-between state”, so I must be prepared for anything if I accidentally wake her up.  It’s an interesting life I lead at night…

Anyway, with a sleep habit like that, you can imagine that her dreams are probably pretty strange.  However, when you add a pregnancy, things become WHACKO.  Here are two examples and who knows, I might come up with a few more in the next couple weeks as we approach the due date…

A 20/20 Special Report: Twin Pooping Disorder

Can  you imagine how intrigued you’d be if you turned on 20/20 on ABC and saw an entire 60 minute report about the trials and tribulations of Twin Pooping Disorder.  Luckily, in reality, we don’t have to.  However, in the dream state of my wife, it’ll happen and it did. 

Here’s a few facts about Twin Pooping Disorder – It’s the number two killer of women, behind heart disease.  It affects only one twin out of a pair.  It is not the number one killer of men.  The Wayans Brothers are spokespeople for the disease and they try to raise awareness because one them suffer from it.

Here are the logical infallicies with the previous facts – The Wayans Brothers are not twins.  If it only affects one twin, then it would be very difficult to be the number two killer or women.  Why are two men the spokespeople if it affects a lot of women?

Are you wondering what twin pooping disorder is?  Well, it only affects have a set of twins.  It basically means they’re severely constipated and only have a BM one every 2 to 3 weeks.  This means they have to be careful about what they eat.

A quote from the Wayans Brothers:

Waynes Brother #1 - “It really stinks, because I  like cheeseburgers… but I can’t eat them because they’ll be inside me for weeks.

Waynes Brother #2 - “And that’s what so bad about this disease.  I don’t have it, so I can eat a cheeseburger anytime I want.”

Yes, this is a real dream. Yes, she remembered all of these details.  They are now etched in my brain because of their absurdity.

The Forgotten Shower Guest

Are you ever scared you left someone off the invite list?  It’s a list you agonize over for weeks for some events.  Your baby’s shower is one of them.  On the day my wife had her shower, she dreamt that she had made this terrible mistake.

I’m not sure if you know who DMX is, but he is a rapper.  Here are a few facts about DMX:

• He spent much of his adolescence in and out of jail.
• In the summer of 1999, DMX and his wife were arrested and charged for animal cruelty and possession of drugs and weapons after his manager uncle was accidentally shot at a hotel in New Jersey.
• DMX was arrested but later cleared of a stabbing that occurred at a tour stop in Denver.
• DMX was arrested in March 2000 for aggravated unlicensed operation of a motor vehicle, speeding, failure to signal, driving without a license, failure to notify the DMV of an address change, and possession of marijuana.
• In June 2004, he was arrested at the John F. Kennedy International Airport on charges of cocaine possession, criminal impersonation, criminal possession of a weapon, criminal mischief, menacing, and driving under the influence of drugs or alcohol while claiming to be a federal agent and attempting to carjack a vehicle.
• On November 18, 2005, DMX was sentenced to 70 days in jail for violating his parole.
• DMX was arrested at a Phoenix mall on suspicion that he gave a false name & Social Security number to a hospital to get out of paying for medical expenses.

As you can see, he’s quite the interesting character.  He also enjoys barking and grunting in his rap songs.

Well, wouldn’t you know it… Stunning left DMX off the guest list and our boy DMX was not too happy about it.  Imagine Stunning’s surprise when he knocked on the door. 

He grunted at her.  He waved his glock around.  He was very angry that she didn’t invite him to the shower.  She pleaded with him to forgive her for the oversight.  He used the nastiest cuss words DMX can use and he let everyone fly…  She told him she just didn’t think he’d be interested in a baby shower.  Well he was… because as he waved his glock around with one hand, he was carrying his gift under his other shoulder.  Yes, DMX bought Junior his Johnson & Johnson’s bath time kit.  I think that’s a very kind gesture.

My wife is all but done in baby preparations.  Of course, if she realizes there is something that needs to be done, it will be done within hours… if not minutes.  She’s a planner in normal life.  Imagine taking the neurosis (and I use that word lovingly) and adding on the natural instinct to prepare a baby’s home before his arrival.  Well, you can imagine what’s happened in my life the past few months.

Junior’s room is ready.  The hospital bags are packed.  The cradle is ready.  Everything on the registries has been purchased (except a couple items that are not necessary on day one of life).  The car set is installed.  The stroller is constructed.  The letters of his name are hung.  I’m telling you people… she’s ready.

Well, the other day, knowing that my cooking can only be performed in large momentous occasions (asking me to cook a simple dinner is like asking Tchaikovsky to write a commercial melody), so I told my wife that she should prepare some food and put it in the freezer.  Therefore, after Junior comes I can take it out of the freezer while she is napping and bake it and handle it myself.  This project required planning on her part and she loved the idea of it. 

Needless to say, it was the next day and she was at the grocery store.  That night, the madness began…

The Ingredients

Preparing the Meats

Halfway Point…. Yes, I said Halfway

Some Midwestern Goodness – The Tater Tot Casserole

The Finished Project

The following meals are now in our freezer ready for me to make:

3 lasagnas
2 manicottis
1 enchilada casserole
2 nights of regular enchiladas
2 nights of green chile chicken enchiladas
3 nights of enchilada casserole
2 nights of shepherd’s pie

Total: 14 meals, people—28 if you count per person.

I thought it was a good idea and it still is a good idea.  I just never thought it would be quite like this…

You read about my sleep graphs.  Take a look at this one:

What you see here is that I slept good from 11 to 1am.   After that things got a little crazy… especially starting at the 3am hour.  Well, I was awake from 3am on because I thought we might be having a baby.

Junior is pretty active, with constant movements and kicks almost continuously now.  However, the other night Molly noticed he wasn’t really moving like he should be.  We did all of the normal stuff we do to wake him up.  We prodded.  We poked.  We shook (lightly, of course).  Instead, he did his best to act like nothing was happening.  I think it was a big game to him. 

Molly called the doctor’s office and got the answering service.  She explained the situation to which the man replied, “Ma’am, I’m just the answering service.  Tell me what you want to do.”  He was rude.  She had the doctor paged.

The doctor called and said, “Well, I’m not going to tell you not to worry about it, so you can come in if you want.”  Wow.  Umm.. Thanks?

Therefore at 4:15am, we headed into the doctor’s office.  Labor and Delivery… here we come.  Just to make things surreal we also grabbed our overnight bag.  When we got to the office, we even signed documents in case they needed to get Junior into the world of the “Not Living In a Sac of Water” right away.  That was surreal. 

Then we went and hooked Stunning up to some monitors and Junior still slumbered away.  His heart rate was strong, but still very little movement.  The nurse frowned.  Then she instructed my wife to get on her side and drink this huge tub of ice water.  Well, apparently he didn’t like being stuck next to a giant bag of ice water, because he woke up immediately and started kicking and pushing and doing the regular things.

The rest of the day it was more of the same.  The due date is March 21 and it looks like he has no plans to leave his little hut before then.  In fact, we even made a routine exam appointment for March 23!  Maybe if he lasts long enough, he can be born on my birthday; March 27.  You know what they… like father like son!  ::cue laugh sign::

They always say the last trimester is the most uncomfortable and I AGREE.  I’m not talking about my wife, I’m talking about me. 

Stunning is not in a good state right now.  She’s got a cold.  She’s got a giant basketball in her stomach:

You try and sleep with that in your stomach.  It moves too!! (Very similar to Alien.)

The trick for the husband is to find a way to manage his own sleep schedule when his wife in the same bed is unable to sleep at all.  Here are a few things that I, as the husband, am dealing with – turning over is a huge deal for her.  At this point, turning over in bed requires a feat of strength similar to those strongman shows where the guys have to move a refrigerator of bricks.  I also have a tough time sleeping if there are rhythmic noises and unfortunately breathing is a bit more difficult when there’s someone in the pushing against every vital organ.  And while stunning will be appalled that I’m writing this, but she does have an occasional “snore”.  Beyond that, there’s the constant urine breaks and the occasional strange dreams (we’ll discuss those in more detail later).  Needless to say, there are some interruptions to my sleep pattern.

The first thing a scientist should do is analyze.  Therefore, I bought a $0.99 iPhone App that measures your sleep cycles.  That’s right… THERE’S AN APP FOR THAT! 

Anyway, here’s a decent night’s sleep:

It’s not the best.  However, here’s a night where there was little rest for the weary:

Not a lot of deep sleep there.

Now some couples separate at this time of the pregnancy in order to sleep. We’ve decided not to do that.  Basically, because we only have one bed in the house and there’s not a good place to sleep otherwise.  I don’t sleep well on couches anyway and she should be in a bed… not a couch in her current condition.

Anyway, to survive this, I’ve noticed a couple things work.  First of all, I sleep with my ears away from her.  It’s sad, but this is not a state conducive to cuddling.  The second tip is a set of ear plugs.  Hate to say it, but this takes care of the breathing and the inevitable grunts as she attempts to roll over.  With these two tiny tips, my sleep ability has improved some. 

This wasn’t the nicest post.  Basically, blaming my wife for all of my woes and giving advice to wear ear plugs so you don’t have to hear your wife… but you know… in the ninth month of a pregnancy, you do what you gotta do.  Anyway, this is all just a little training for a few weeks time, when I won’t be allowed to wear ear plugs and I’ll get woken up by a baby… and not my wife.

I’ll get a good night’s sleep though when all the kids go off to college, so it’s not big deal.

Yesterday’s post was a bit philosophical and honestly, I’m not even quite sure what I was talking about.  Today’s post will hopefully be a bit simpler. 

Here’s the deal, inside my wife’s stomach is another human being that is squirming around, kicking her bladder, punching her stomach, and making her life less than enjoyable.  I’ve never seen this human being before.  The only thing I’ve done is see his movement, look at his skeletor frame in the ultrasound, and hear his whooshing heart beat. 

Last week, I got to meet some family freinds’ new baby.  He was born last week and in a picture of his dad from when his dad was a newborn, they look exactly the same.  It really got me wondering what is Junior going to look like.  Therefore, I went back to the vaults.

If he’s anything like me, he’ll be born at a relatively normal size:

(That’s me in the baby crib thing and my Dad behind me, lest you be confused.)

(gaining a little weight)

(gaining more weight)

(fat)

(fudge-cicle disaster)

(Not quite as fat)

(still got a belly)

(a good weight to height ratio)

(gotta love the 1980s and the striped tube socks)

I’ve come to realize that because of my existence, there’s going to be another human being in the world.  Part of me looks at all of the other human beings in the world and thinks it’s not that big of a deal.  Look at a crowded stadium and all those people were crammed into some woman’s stomach at some point.  Quite a few of them (unfortunately, probably not all of them) had whimsical fathers that pondered the existence they were creating.  They’ll all go on, maybe have more babies that they create, and this big rock will continue to spin.  That’s one of my inner monologues.

The other inner monologue gives me an entirely different perspective.  This one looks at that stadium full of people and each person is unique and a product somehow of their upbringing.  Each person there was crammed into the tummy of a woman, but then they were set free.  That freedom is the masterpiece God designed for us.   God’s interjection in this world is the reason that it’s an amazingly big deal to have Junior squirming around in his Mom’s stomach.  To have a kid that will eventually mimic what I do.  A child that I’ll teach how to play catch, drive a car, and give financial advice to. 

It’s an amazing thing, isn’t it?  When I’m flying, I can look from the airplane down at the world and it all looks so well-organized and peaceful.  There’s not a noise the reaches the plane and even flying over a big city is beautiful.  If you go down to the surface, you see the worst of the worst this world has to offer.  In this situation, in this pondering in my head, it’s the opposite.  From the stadium view, every person is identical and does not matter.  However, up close, each person is unique and a product of the ones that brought them into this world. 

I can’t wait.

February 17.  It’s around this time each year that something amazing happens.  Pitchers and Catchers report to Spring Training in Arizona and Florida.  Specifically, Cardinal Pitchers and Cardinal Catchers head to Jupiter, Florida to begin preparation for Spring Training Games and for the Regular season.

This season is a bit different than normal.  First of all, on opening day, I’m going to be a father.  For some reason, being a father and a baseball fan has some sort of mystique about it.  I watch football, but I’m not that interested in it.  I enjoy basketball, but I can do with or without it.  I love baseball.  I love the strategy.  I love the fact that some people find it boring, because it means you see something special in it that others can’t (similar to Robert Altman films).  I love the crack of the bat.  I love the fact that the beginning of Spring Training or the Season means the weather is warming up and summer is coming.  There’s just so much to love about it.

I can remember being young and watching a Cardinals game with my Dad and thinking about how boring it was.  I wonder if Junior will think the same.

I remember my Dad coming home after the Mark McGwire trade and impersonating his batting stance to tell me the Cardinal got him in a trade.

I remember sitting in the kitchen watching the opening day of the baseball season when McGwire began his record breaking pace.  (The memory is slightly tainted now.)

I remember Gary Gaetti’s Grand Slam in Game 3 of the 1996 NLCS and thinking there’s no way the Cardinals can lose now!

I remember game 5, 6, and 7 of the 1996 NLCS when the Atlanta Braves outscored the Cardinal 32-1 and being absolutely heartbroken.

I remember vividly the no-hitters of Bud Smith and Jose Jiminez. 

I remember Fernado Tatis hitting two grand slams in one inning. 

The World Series win of 2006.

Joe McEwing.

The heart break of other post-season losses.

Most importantly though, I loved and still love hearing my dad tell stories about baseball players that I never got to see.  Players in the 1960s and 1970s when he was a kid and a young adult.  I feel as though there’s something special about being able to tell my son those same stories.  To share with him the memories above (and a whole bunch of other ones) seems almost magical.

And while he’ll have no idea what’s happening, I’m excited that he’ll be here for Opening Day 2010… April 5 versus Cincinnati on ESPN.

In the 3rd Grade, I was tasked with doing an “All About Me” board on the wall.  I had to bring in pictures and write words that described me.  One of the words I chose was “Weird” (though I spelled it “wierd” and I still spell it wrong most of the time).  Then I chose a picture of me sitting on the toilet reading a book with my pants around my ankles.  I was potty-training in the picture, but I don’t think it was quite appropriate for the Me Board, but the teacher put it up there nonetheless. 

Well, weird  or immature would probably still describe my personality.  I enjoy talking really loud and in a monotone voice at work to see what people’s reaction will be.  (They’re perplexed.  It’s actually quite fun, you should try it.)    This is just one example, but I’m sure anyone that knows me has a story that they can think where I’m being less than “normal”.  It’s my style. 

Well, that style didn’t quite mix with the parenting class we went to the other day.  Part of my maturity level (and a gift my Dad has given me as he is stricken with the same affliction) is what we call the “giggles”.  It really is laughing at something that really isn’t funny, but not being able to stop laughing.  I’m sure you’ve done it before.  This is a very good example:

It’s a little worse for me though than the average person.  For example, this would actually happen to me on TV.  (I once said the following: “The record low for today is –34 degrees set back in 1896, so if you were alive back then you’d be …. really… old now.”  That proceeded with me getting the giggles for the rest of the forecast.  Oops.)  I’ve done it at funerals before too.  Anyway, it also happened to me in this class. 

In these classes, one tries to promote and aura of maturity to the other parents.  (Why hello… I’m in this class not because i need to be, but because I want to prove to everyone that I’m a good parent.)  I think I failed in convincing others of this.

1) During a video telling us what would happen shortly after birth.  A baby got their vitamin K shot in their leg.  For some reason the baby’s reaction (pure terror) on the video struck me as funny.  I almost lost it here, but gathered myself and prevented any audible laughing (there was some trembling though and looking down).

2) The teacher was good.  She was a nurse, but she was just saying some of the most bizarre things. 

“Listen, babies are going to suck.  They’re going to suck in utero and they’re going suck when they’re born.”

“The umbilical cord will eventually fall off.  Now, on my youngest daughter I actually didn’t even notice the cord fall off.  I just looked at her and said, "Where did that cord go?”  Then I looked down and my dog was chewing on something.  Well, wouldn’t you know he had gotten the cord and was eating it?!?  He was in heaven.  He got quite the treat that day.”

“If you get your boy circumcised, he going to have a scab down there.  Just take the disinfectant goop and just pile it on there like a dairy queen.”

“Whatever you do...  DO NOT bite your baby’s fingernails.”

“If you’re a guy, it going to be weird changing your daughter’s diaper.  It’s a personal area.  My husband couldn’t do it for a long time.  Eventually, when my daughter got older she called that area her “Pretty Girl”.  “My pretty girl” this and “my pretty girl” that…”

I made my wife to write all of these down so you could see what I had to deal with to prevent from laughing.

3) Playing with dolls is not my thing.  However, in any good baby class you’re going to be given a baby doll to “wash” and change diapers.

First of all, I find these babies funny.  Second of all, I still feel ridiculous playing doll by wiping a plastic child’s butt.  At one point we had to turn the baby over to “wash its back”.  Well, I didn’t want to lose sight of my child’s eyes so I turned its head all the way around.  Then I heard someone laughing to my right and another couple was looking at me working with this child and placing its hands, legs, and head in strange positions.  It’s at that point I realized I was the student that the teacher secretly hates for making the entire class unruly.

4) There were a lot of boobs flying around in that room.  Not the pregnant people in there, but on the video.  I can’t imagine what the breast feeding class is going to be like.  Help me God…

5) I’m still a junior high student at heart, I find words like “penis”, “breast” and “uterus” funny when they are said out loud by an individual.

In the end, I was told by the wife to get on my phone and surf facebook so I would stop laughing while the teacher was talking.  It made me realize, I’m definitely going to be one of those fathers that laughs boisterously with my son as he farts really loud.  I’m sorry people, but that’s just funny.

People said these posts are boring. This is the last one.  I promise. I had it written now for awhile, but I didn’t want to bore people too much.  Anyway… this is the last post.  Enjoy… or please try to.

With the primer done, it was time to move on to the actual paint.  This piece of furniture is a little different though, because it has a wicker back.  For that reason, I took some cheapo spray paint… …told  you it was cheap…and hit that part of the chair:

Why?  Wicker/Reed is tough to get into all the little cracks.  While I planned to give it some of my actual paint, I figured this would be a way to fill in a few spots with black that wouldn’t get it otherwise.

Not perfect.. and I’ll still take a paint brush to it.  However, it will allow me to use a smaller amount of paint on the brush and avoid any type of clumping. 

After the spray paint, I got some higher quality stuff..

….and applied the first coat.

There were still some noticeable imperfections with just one coat…

My dog also has one coat…

So, a few days later, I applied a second coat… AND VOILA!  The finished product:

From this… to this…

Not bad!  Hopefully, it lasts…