Gene Speaks

Many of you have wondered, rightly so, how will our child look? Your anticipation has been heard and you will not be disappointed. Through advanced technology, the world's scientists have created a preliminary peek at how beautiful our child will be. Using DNA, social studies, psychological profiles, family history, fashion sense, quantum physics, time travel, geology, anthropology, math, in utero imaging, and just a little bit of educational guessing, a computer "The Gene Machine", has presented the following photo of our child. Irrefutably, you will agree, as all people must, that our child is an elegant merger of all the best physical, mental and spiritual qualities that Kelly and I can offer. Don't hold back any judgment please because we are confident that it's all good. Thanks Gene!

Yoga Throw Down Part 2

I am getting prepped for the next couples yoga. Thanks to Wai-Lana. Please check out her web site www.wailana.com.

Diaper Delights

Our first diapers,
They made me cry,
To think of what
Might pass them by...

Or onto them.
And then with grasp
of reality, I said of him:
He will need many.

No Fly Zone

We entered the no fly zone today, though we didn't know it. Our doctor informed us that Kelly shouldn't fly at least two months before our boy's birth. Well she is already booked to fly to Denver in January.

We kind of broke the news to our doctor in the way that a child lets his parent know he has done something wrong:

"Doctor, when is it unsafe to fly?"

"Well you really shouldn't do so two months before your due date. It really isn't advisable"

"Two months, huh?"

"Yes, the beginning of January for you, you enter the NoFlyMester (TM)."

"The Nofly--what?"

"The Noflymester (TM) the period of time when by flying you risk..."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, what are you planning?"

"Well I've already booked a flight in mid-January."

"Really? Well, it's better you don't fly during that time. The risk is... You really don't want that and the airline doesn't want that. But it probably won't happen."

"I didn't know."

"Well, there's plenty of good doctors in Denver."

"Ok, but can we change the subject now, because I don't plan to change my plans and I have already read the "books" and they said otherwise. Sorry I didn't consult you."

"Yeah, thanks for asking."

Sulking from the parental reprimand, we walked out with our heads low, essentially trying to evade the radar of prenatal propriety. Luckily, Kelly's sugar didn't stay too low as she had only minutes before gulped down a yummy GLUCO-SODEE-POP, which I guess had the purpose of setting a benchmark to test for gestational diabetes. Too serious to be funny, but a standard test so don't worry.

NoFlyMester (TM) is a trademark term, asserted under state and federal law, applying to and used in connection with the goods and services provided in interstate commerce herein. All exclusive rights are expressly reserved.

This Little [SMUDGE] of Mine

We also got a candle (craft store) on which I wrote with a permanent marker (craft store) our child's initial. A picture is shown here with the initial smudged out, all to tease our audience and get the hype up because it is just not high enough yet. We say a prayer every night for our little named but not revealed light.

I Love [SMUDGE]

As some know, this past weekend was Kelly's birthday. As part of that, we made a decision on the name of our little boy. The picture posted here shows a T-shirt on which I ironed, yes I went to a craft store, "I LOVE" the name of our child, which was smudged out expertly by me. Thus, the name is still a secret but as a tease to all I have let you know the child has a name, an identity, and a place with us.

Outie Update

The outie is still an innie (btw I have pre-approved most of these communications with Kelly and she is mostly on-board). Thus, those of you who have voted for Dec. 2 as the earliest are wrong. The good news is that you can change your vote at any time; so everyone has a chance to win!!!!

New Contest--The Outie

Please vote on what the earliest date you think that Kelly's belly button will pop out. I can only say it's close.

Wombat Wins Worst Name Contest

The public has spoken--Wombat is the worst name for our little boy. Now we know.

Pregnant Yoga for Dudes

I have to admit--I went to pregnant yoga. In fact, I have been twice. The second time, however, was a big let down compared to the first time.

The first time there were other dudes there. We were like a pack and we suffered together; we made jokes and faltered in all the stretches. When it came to putting ourselves in a compromising poses that made us look weak, together we hemmed and hawed until the instructor gave up trying to make us do it. So I said, not so bad; I can get the valued supportive-husband through pregnancy points and not give up my manhood. I assented to the next pregnant yoga class with less reservation.

The second time my brothers in stretch did not show. Maybe there was a memo or a message sent subliminally during a recent Spurs game, but I didn't get it. Instead, I showed up.

All the yogic energies aligned against me. First, the instructor sharpened her "guys really don't like coming to this" schtick. Usually it kind of gives guys an outlet. For example, the class get long in the "ohm" or the poses have us one leg up and in tandem warrior poses like a snap shot of a synchronized swimming event. I can look to another guy and we can round the wagons and grunt. The instructor can pass off the moment by smiling and letting us know its all for our partners. This time i was the only one; so no brother to look over to, only me grunting to myself and really making me feel like a reluctant tool.

Second, Kelly, the pregnant one, really showed me up. Given, she had been coming regularly to the non-partner yoga classes. But on several occasions she asked me if that was as far as I would go. I felt like I was bending over a fence and could only go so far.

The good thing about being the only couple is that it ended early. I hope I get the next memo.

Kelly Belly

We just had a great session of belly bumps. Our child was kicking and jumping. We are afraid he is a night owl. Please don't forget to vote in the poll.

Sciency Stuff

Level of oxytocin in pregnant women predicts mother-child bond from PhysOrg.com

Humans are hard-wired to form enduring bonds with others. One of the primary bonds across the mammalian species is the mother-infant bond. Evolutionarily speaking, it is in a mother’s best interest to foster the well-being of her child; however, some mothers just seem a bit more maternal than others do. Now, new research points to a hormone that predicts the level of bonding between mother and child.

[...]

A music interlude

A fix to his ignition.

A doll held

We held a doll today the same size as our baby. We were at our recent doctor visit. The plastic baby was bald and wrinkly and had a little butt. We each held like our own and thought how the real one moved and growed within Kelly. Nice Thursday morning to hope for our child.

Second Hints of Movement

No, for real. This evening finds us hands to belly and joining the dance party going on in the womb. I have been for the last few minutes, until I ran to the computer to blog this, laying my hands and feeling our baby bump and knock. I said to him via inter-abdominal channels, "hey what's up. What are you doing in there?" I felt a tap; perhaps he has something to say.

Nursery Sketch

Hey, thanks to Amirra for this artist's rendering of what our nursery may look like. If only I had talent to put this up on the wall.

The Crib

Yo, we picked a crib! Whoa, it was tough work.

{Before we begin let me clarify the above. "We" means Kelly and "it" means the hours that Kelly spent on the internet and elsewhere searching for a crib. "tough work" means the far fewer amount of hours (though still hours) that I spent considering and appreciating all of the "we" and "it" of picking a crib. There.}

For the uneducated, crib manufacturers don't care about your baby, last year. That means that any crib made last year is inherently defective. Bad news for last year's children. It turns out that the cribs made and sold just last year have been recalled. I am at a loss for thoughts besides perplexity, if that's really thought. How is it that the crib cannot be made safe once and for all? Think of all of last year's kids (LYKs).

What this all means to me is that picking a crib is not just a matter of price, color, or shape (usually square-ish). Picking a crib means cross-checking it for safety. I really don't think the shape of babies has changed in a few thousand years, why can't every crib be safe without the hassle.

Check you later, homies.

Baby's Startle

Kelly and I have a debate. The baby book, or at least one of them that we now own, please if you are planning to have your own child, let me know, I think I can sneak one out when kelly's sleeping. Just kidding :) The baby book says that now that our child's three ear bones--the horn, the shoe and the anvil, I think, are now formed. Formed enough that the baby can sense sound, though perhaps not hear sounds distinctly. Not only that, but the baby doesn't even know what the different sounds are, to the extent that the baby ONLY responds to loud external sounds. The book says the baby reacts, as in a reflex, to a loud sound. How wonderful, beautiful that God built in this reflex because I am sure it helps to develop the brain.

OK that last part I made up or rather inferred, I really don't know that these startling reflexes build up the brain. But I think that they are not bad for the child. Kelly, on the other hand, thinks that startling the child is not good.

She thinks that making a loud sound "scares" the child. And she thinks that should I do this, which I want to, I will later regret it and feel sorry. I think that it is my one way to interact and reach my child while he is still in the womb. As we know from the book, it doesn't recognize or react to anything but a loud external sounds. (The exceptions to this are internal sounds Kelly's voice, Kelly's stomach, Kelly's breathing.)

Now, for my own purposes, I have spoken to my child via inter-abdominal channels. I have poked and prodded Kelly's belly in attempts to reach my child. But according to the book, the loud sounds are my only shot at communication. I'll keep reading though.

In our debate, I think I'm right. I can only hope that others in the blog-isphere, agree.

First Hints of Movement

You catch us in the middle of this game, pregnancy. Not a game, though, please no clarifying comments, unless they're funny. Or warnings of portent. Remember--entertainment.

The middle, so we have seen our child, several times by sonogram. So we know he's there. One of the joys of this game, however, is the let's feel him moving. Just makes it so real. Weeks ago I swore to kelly that I had felt him. I now retract that statement, officially and publicly, because she didn't take it too well. She wanted to and by God's rules of engagement, she was by all means entitled to feel it first. I am not lying that I think I felt it, but I am retracting that it happened. I am a lawyer by education.

So yesterday, it's official and public, she felt it. In the morning, a quick flutter, she says, something not the product of involuntary bodily function, but of true human volition, I think. Anyway, I'd like to think my child has achieved a certain level of consciousness and now makes his own moves. His first song, a mozart tune that I forget the K number, but its good music before bed. We'll put in some hip-hop soon to keep him well-rounded.

Roast Trouble

Kelly roasted me when because I was writing this blog, I forgot that the timer on the roast went off. So involved, so involved. I apologized in an weak attempt to make up for lost time. Not too sure if I am forgiven, oh well. Not very relevant to the baby though. Sorry to my readers, blogging is addictive.

Halloween Decoration and Room Standing

Today, after the too-early crib hunt, we continued on with more of our exciting life. And our child, he, came along. First, I completed decorations for the house; in addition to last year's lit skull, purchased from Wal-mart for 4.99, thank you China, the string of lit-up happy jack-o-lanterns and ghosts, decorated the front of our house with window chalk. My first masterpiece, the tombstone inscribed with "RIP Freddie." The next, a ghost "Boo". The next, a skull, with cross-bones. And finally, a jack-o-lantern, meant to be mean and scary.

Today, too, we stood in the soon to be nursery. I have big plans, big ones, ambitious as the Universe. In fact, it is the Universe, at least, the local one. The nursery is meant to depict and give the visitor and our child, him, the illusion of floating or flying in the upper atmosphere of earth above the clouds. I should post the sketch. The room is half sky, light blue and at the chair rail height (yes I watch HGTV, more of my exciting life) clouds, and the other half a darker, nearly midnight blue, meant to be outer space. Then, in closer than life imagery, the planets, the sun, the moon, a cow to jump over it, a rocket, an alien, and the rest of the firmament. Quite dramatic and ambitious. I may not get that far, as there are phases to this should the rest of life prevent me from truly fulfilling this quest.

So today I dragged kelly into the future nursery and we stood there, placing the crib, debating about the changing table and yes talking about how to paint it. How would the clouds work in and transition the sky and space? Yes, we talked about that--we would put cartoon-ish clouds in between the two colors.

Which brings up our differences in philosophy and what every man and woman, probably since adam and eve, have discussed. Kelly doesn't want the nursery too realistic. My dream of a nursery shouldn't be too science-cy. It should have cartoon characters and such. This makes sense to me too as the room is for an infant so I won't put up too much of a fight. For instance, we plan to have the dogs, Rebel and Bowie, depicted in a rocket ship and flying out in space. As we all know, the dogs would have a hard time sticking their head out into a vacuum. So I guess I am saying that if you expect a literal interpretation of space, get over it, I did.

Blog's First Day--the Crib Hunt

The first day of this blog, which chronicles our child's early life and his parents' efforts to make his life a good one--look for the book out in 2014--finds us two days before Halloween. I will try to splice humor and insight with the minutia and monotony of a way, traversed by many of you, my readers, and avoided by many others. I can only hope to entertain.

We spent the day, much as yesterday, hunting for baby furniture. Though yesterday found us overwhelmed with the variety of choices and prices as to every aspect of baby care and entertainment, we went to Baby's R Us, today finds us underwhelmed with our choice to seek out a cheap crib. See, we drove twenty miles hunting a crib advertised in San Antonio Current, the same rag that you can find your same sex life mate, if you so desire. We called about the excellent condition item and set up an early 10 am appointment. I predicted, correctly, that we would find an old man. Why? because he made us visit early and could not provide an emailed copy of the crib and changing table. I trucked my wife over to this mapquest in hand. As we pulled up, Kelly exclaimed, "Back up and leave." She thought better and we decided to stay, though we had already decided, not to buy the delipidated item, so coyly called "excellent." From his garage emerged the old man I had previously predicted. A veteran perhaps still used to the bugle call, friendly, shaving a boogie board to smoothness in his homemade laboratory, he met us flipping his head to the crib leaning, in its constituent pieces, against the garage door, as if in the twelve hours since our call, he had blown off cob webs, accounted for most of it and placed it there so that when we drove up, we might make an immediate positive choice. He did not know Kelly. But I did. "So you'll take it," hoping to catch us off guard he said. Kelly explained that we were looking for a crib but wanted to make sure that all the pieces fit, not true, we wanted a way out. He nicely began to assemble the crib, enlisting me, like a sergeant to his troop. I could see how the parts were fitting and he did not listen to me when I said that certain parts fit in a certain order. He came to the conclusion that the crib was broken, "But you can screw this part together easily." At last our way out, Kelly said slyly, "Oh but we're not handy." Internally I protested, I am so handy, but I never wanted to come in the first place, I wanted to go and to move on to our post-crib-visit plan tacos, coffee and a newspaper. "Yeah, I guess you don't want a broken crib; sorry for making you all drive out, " he said scratching his bald head, perplexed. I felt a little sorry because I knew it could be assembled, but between my wife who would never purchase such a rickety scratched-uppity crib and this old man who had made me get up too early for sunday, could not work a digital camera or the internet, and would not listen to save his sale, I was not going to feel too sorry and again could smell the tacos. "OK bye." "Bye." He would later call, telling us that it wasn't broken, but we didn't return the call.

Please continue to read these next days as my posts can only get funnier.