The build-up continues

Hilary at 26 weeks*

We passed 26 weeks on Friday. While there is still a good amount of time before Hilary is due, we are trying to get out in front of a few things we want to accomplish before the baby comes. And by we I mean Hilary wants them done, and I have no choice but to acquiesce because she is pregnant.

One of those things is re-painting the baby's room. On the one hand, the room is a perfectly-acceptable light blue color, typical for a baby boy (says I). On the other hand, it has sailboats as a border around the top of the room, and, well, see the previous paragraph.

So, with help from Uncle Will, we set out yesterday to repaint the room in a light yellowish-green, and despite my sister's disparaging remarks about our painting talents, I think we did a pretty decent job.

It's not totally finished yet (it's further along than the above pictures), but so far I'd say it almost looks like it wasn't done by a couple of complete idiots. Suck it, Hannah.

* This photo reminds me of those "Spot the five differences" games from Highlights Magazine and game consoles at the local pub (though their respective content is, ummm, slightly different). Here's what one of those might look like. Can you spot the five differences?

Watch what you say?

In addition to thinking about how our lives are going to change in the immediate aftermath of having a baby, I have also started contemplating what it's going to be like when our child (and future children) becomes an actual person and we have to try to shape his future behavior.

I have been thinking about what we want to teach our child - which things are important, and which really aren't.

For example: I find cursing to be perfectly acceptable. I curse slightly less than the cast of Deadwood, and I have absolutely no problem with profanity being used in any social setting. Yet seemingly, once our son reaches an age where he can parrot back the words we use, I'm going to have to start watching my language, right?

I'm not stupid; I understand why, from a social standpoint, it isn't wise to allow your six-year old to drop F-bombs with impunity. But I don't like having to pretend something is bad when I myself believe otherwise. To me, cursing is not like alcohol or drugs - there is no danger of physical harm when used improperly or in excess.

This came up the other night in a discussion at a friend's house, when I was announcing my intention that from now on, the popular new children's book Go The F@#$ To Sleep would be my baby gift of choice*.

*I'm totally serious. Any of my friends and family expecting a baby in the future, you can also expect this tome in the mail shortly. No thank you note required.

My friend maintained that she would never read that book to her child, no matter his age, whereas I would not only read it, I would relish reading it. It's amusing! He'll never know the difference, so what does it matter? I could read him Penthouse Forum letters as an infant, and as long as it helps lull him to sleep I'd consider it fair game.

Then again, maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way. Maybe curse words are wonderful precisely because they are illicit:



If our son never learns these words are any different, maybe he will be denied a helpful tool in his communicative box. Plus, I'd hate to deprive him of a watershed moment of his childhood - the first time you remember hearing your parents swear**.


We were in Long Beach, MS, for a friend's bar mitzvah. The hotel we were staying at was also hosting a high school math competition, which meant tons of high school students looking for mischief. At around 3:00 in the morning the phone rang, which my mom answered wearily. To the best of my recollection, this was the conversation:

Mom: "Hello?"
Caller: "Do you have any potato chips?"
Mom: "What?"
Caller: "Do you have any potato chips**?"
Mom: FUCK you. (Slams phone)

This was roughly my reaction. 

And by the way, potato chips? I guess that's what passes for a prank call at a high school math convention.

I love that memory. I cherish the fuck out of that memory. Who am I to deprive my son that kind of momentous occasion***?

*** If I had to wager, I'd say his first memory of foul language will come either from watching sports with his papa or (more likely) driving in traffic with his mama.

Regardless of the relative merit of individual terms, what I most want to instill in our son is that while words are important, it's the meaning behind them that matters much, much more.

And as long as he knows that, I'm content to allow him to exercise his first amendment rights.

Look Ma, we built a crib!

The raw materials (so to speak)

Micah examines the instructions.

Something looks amiss here...

The middle page of the instruction guide is missing. Internet to the rescue?

Problem solved. Ta da!

In other 11-11-11 news...

If you are unavailable for the birth of our son, you could always amuse yourself with the latest bit of cinematic magic from Adam Sandler:



I feel pretty confident that both events will include some trauma in the groin area.

It's a ...

20 Weeks

Hilary at 20 weeks

After we hit the 12-week mark and began to share the news with friends and family, there was really nothing much to look forward to until our 20-week appointment, when we would have the ultrasound that would tell us the sex of our future child.

That appointment is tomorrow. All the anticipation and appointments so far have been like watching a movie version of our life from the sidelines. We are now about to find out the sex of our child, and then it starts to get real.

My internal monologue has been pretty interesting over the past few weeks. I have these little conversations with myself every few days, that seem not very far off from a scene in Good Will Hunting:

"You are having a baby."*

"Yeah, I know."

"I know, but seriously. This baby is happening."

"Yeah, I know."

"NO. SERIOUSLY. IN FIVE MONTHS YOU ARE GOING TO BE A POTENTIAL TARGET FOR HUMAN FECES ON A DAILY BASIS."

*When you talk to yourself in your brain, do you address yourself as "You" or "I"? Or do you even say your name? I think I normally say you, unless, like in real life, I am trying to make an important point. "Micah, you have GOT to get your car's AC fixed, it's 100 #@^& degrees outside."

As I have stated before, I am certain we are having a girl. We will be happy with whatever we get, of course, and it's not like one will really be any different or better than the other. Each sex comes with its own problems.

As I see it, you really want a daughter, up until she's about 11-12 years old. Then never again.

For a boy, you really don't want one until they reach 11-12. Then they're pretty much cool after that.**

**Here's a short breakdown:

Boy Issues, pre-age 12:

Learning to own and operate a penis

Propensity for damage to objects, animate (self, others)

Propensity for damage to objects, inanimate (THAT BASEBALL CARD YOU JUST RIPPED WAS WORTH $1,000, JUNIOR)

Boy Issues, post-age 12:

Wrap it up tight

Girl issues, pre-age 12:
Stop being so cute all the time or grandpa will have a heart attack!

Girl issues, post-age 12:

Dealing with Friends

Dealing with Enemies

Dealing with Frenemies

Dealing with Enemiends

Body issues caused by every magazine/TV show/movie on the planet

Keeping various body parts off the Internet

Tomorrow, the last piece of the puzzle comes into play, and then we will really start imagining what life is going to be like once he/she is born.

This is really happening.

Frequently asked questions about our pregnancy

Today Hilary is 13 weeks, and we have started spreading the news (relatively) far and wide.

After many phone and Skype conversations, I've come up with a brief FAQ to help those who have heard the news but we haven't had a chance to talk to yet:

1. When is the baby due?

A few years back, there was a period of six or eight months where for some reason, I found myself looking at the clock exactly when it read 11:11 all the time. No fooling, I'd say it happened at least five times a week. And I wasn't looking for it on purpose either, I would just happen to glance at my computer, or my watch, or the clock on my car's dashboard, and there it would be, 11:11. It started happening so often that I briefly entertained the notion that I was the subject of a Truman Show-esque movie or TV program before realizing how crazy that would be.

Why do I bring this up? Because Hilary's due date is November 11, 2011. That's right, 11-11-11.

I'm still pretty sure there's nothing fishy going on. Mostly sure, anyway.

2. Are we going to find out the sex or wait to be surprised?

We are going to find out. Isn't it a surprise whether you find out the sex at 20 weeks or when the baby shoots down the pipe? Hilary is a planner -- there is no way she can wait until November to find out the sex of the child. As for me, I already know it's a girl.

I have had this conversation many times with many people, but I will rehash it briefly here. I don't believe in God, but I do believe that there is some sort of order to the universe, and part of that order decrees that the more you like sports, the more likely it is you will have daughters. I like sports more than anyone else I know, therefore, come November I expect to be unwrapped a lot of pink baby gifts.

3. Are you aware that girls can like sports too?

Yes, I am aware. I am also aware that even if I have a boy, it doesn't mean he will share the same love of athletics as his papa. And the truth is, OF COURSE I don't care if it's a girl or a boy -- at the end of the day, all I want is a healthy baby, and whether they like sports or not is immaterial, just as long as they hate cable news networks.

I would love a son to share my obsession with, but that's just not the way the world works for the sports fan. We could have ten children*, and they will all be daughters.

* We won't

4. How is Hilary feeling? Is she having any cravings?

So far, she's doing pretty good. She's been pretty fatigued, but she's not a night owl to begin with, so that's not too much of a change. She goes to bed at 9:30 now instead of 9:45.

As for cravings, we're still waiting to see if anything stands out food wise. So far all she really craves is for me to TURN OFF THE TELEVISION SO SHE CAN GO TO SLEEP.

Any more questions? Let us know.