Score.

Due to all the nasty memories dredged up by my previous post, Rae has made a decision.

Our child will be an only child.

Now we just need to move back to Illinois so himmer will have my sister's kid to pick on.

How (not) to raise children

Rae and I were talking about our concerns over becoming parents. Turns out she's a lot more worried about it than me. (Which I find silly given the fact that she is about 37 years more mature than me regardless of our actual ages.) She said something along the lines of "Kids just seem to like you. You know what to do with them."

I thought about that. And I've decided I DO know how to treat kids. It's not because I'm Super-Dad (to be) or anything. It's just that I can remember how I interacted with my brothers and sister while growing up.

And whatever I did then - I just do the exact opposite now. Here's a few examples. (Ten points to the first person who can correctly identify which sibling each event happened to.)

ONE: Do not punch the baby. (This also covers kicking the baby in the junk. It does not however cover super-wedgies off the top of the couch. Which, if I recall correctly, were requested by the recipient more often than not.)
TWO: Under no circumstances should you handcuff the baby to the monkey bars in the back yard.
THREE: Same goes for shooting the baby in the butt with a BB gun.
FOUR: Do not take the baby sledding, get tired, act like you hurt your leg and make the baby pull you home on the sled.
FIVE: Do not encourage the baby to do a strip show at the top of the stairs during a Cub Scout meeting.
SIX: Do not toss the baby into an ice cold bathtub while the baby is clothed.
SEVEN: Do not photograph the baby getting a wedgie in hisser tighty-whities after getting thrown in an ice cold bathtub.
EIGHT: Do not watch "Child's Play" with the baby, put a Chucky look-a-like doll head in hisser bed, hide under the bed and scream at the baby when s/he pulls down the sheets.
NINE: Do not take advantage of the baby's "afraid of germs" stage by showing himmer pictures of bacteria or fake sneezing on himmer whenever possible.
TEN: Do not traumatize the baby by forcing himmer to say words s/he isn't comfortable with. Like penis for example. Also, don't encourage Mom to join in the fun. Also, don't do this at the dinner table, especially when we have company.
ELEVEN: Do not cut the baby's hair. Leave it for the professionals. Or Rae.

There are many, many, many, many, many, many other rules. These are just some of the highlights. If I can manage to avoid most of these – we should be OK.

My apologies to my sibs for dredging up all of this. If you don't recall any of these happening it is because they happened before you were born, happened before you were too young to remember, or you have repressed the memory because it is too traumatic.

Baby daddy at the Baby doctor

I got up early this morning so I could accompany Rae to her latest appointment with the OB (henceforth known as Baby doctor). I was hoping there would be formal introductions (Baby Daddy, Baby Doctor; Baby Doctor, Baby Daddy) but Rae, being the Martin to my Lewis, never thinks of funny. She was more concerned about, well, girl stuff.

But, I did learn a few important things today:

ONE: The Dunkin Donuts on the way to the Baby doctor charges 15 cents more for a medium coffee than the Dunkin Donuts I normally stop at in the morning. And they use too much sugar.
TWO: The Baby doctor also dabbles in "cosmetic medicine." So she can deliver your baby and shoot your face up with Botulism byproducts.
THREE: The Gentle Yag Laser Hair Removal System™ is completely safe and up to 150% faster than other laser hair removal systems. And there is no messy lubricant to clean up later!
FOUR: Pregnant women who need to use the bathroom are very impatient. Especially when they have an obnoxious two-year-old in tow.
FIVE: Rae lost 4 pounds since her last Baby doctor visit. (Which amazes me because she's developing quite the Buddah-belly.)
SIX: Himmer's heart beat (which I heard for the first time today) sounds like a sound effect from one of those crappy space shows Rae watches on the Sci-Fi channel.
SEVEN: Baby doctor appointments consist of 45 minutes of waiting, 2 minutes of peeing and 5 minutes of actually being seen by the Baby doctor.
EIGHT: Rae's next appointment is the day after we get back from vacation. It will be THE ultrasound where we find out if himmer is actually a him or a her.

And if you're nice, I'll tell you what we know when we know it. :)

Movement??!!

Rae swears she felt himmer moving around yesterday. Not kicking - too soon for that - but moving. She says it felt like she had butterflies in her stomach.

I think she had gas.

Having gas and saying it's the baby is kind of like blaming a fart on the dog. Except who's going to call a pregnant lady on that?

Rae: I just felt the baby move!
Me: Are you sure? Cause I think I can smell the baby moving.
Rae: You're such a boy. You just don't understand.
Rae: Besides, that smell was the dog.

I've got a little chubby

Yup - you can officially tell she's pregnant now.
Either that, or she just ate a very large lunch.


Or maybe both?

At the baby store

Rae and I took a trip to the baby store earlier this week. We were on that side of town and just decided to stop in and see what kind of wonderful new merchandise was waiting for us. (We are consumers, we must consume.) Diapers, cribs, bottles, nipple brushes, mobiles ... they had it all.

And a lot of it was crap.

Babies don't need half the stuff they had on the shelves. They didn't have half this stuff when my siblings and I were kids - and we turned out fine. (Well, most of us did.)

"Like what," you say? "Give us an example," is what I hear? How about baby wipe warmers? It's a little box with a light in it (similar to an E-Z Bake Oven – but this won't make little cakes) which heats up the wipes so it's not too cold for himmer.

Really. Do I need to spend $19.99 on this? Will I scar my child for life if I clean hisser butt with a room-temperature wipe? (And really – room temperature in Arizona is pretty warm already.)

But wait! There's more! For only a few dollars more ($21.99) you can get one with a built-in changing light! So you can clean Junior's rump (comfortably mind you) in the dark! AMAZING!

But what really got me was the strollers. I've dodged these things in public places for years – but I hadn't realized just how obnoxious they have become. My idea of a stroller – the kind I sat in as a tyke – is made of a couple pieces of aluminium, some canvas and a couple of rickity plastic wheels. The kind which folds up small enough that it can be easily carried by any able-bodied adult.

Today's strollers are tanks. Huge off-road wheels and a better suspension system than my car (wouldn't want baby to wake up if we have to take it off-road). Cup holders, hand brakes, sun screens, storage areas and more! The area where baby sits? They're packed in with so many foam pillows I don't think they can actually move. And remember how small those other strollers collapsed down to? These fold down so they can be stored in the back of most SUVs – but only after you remove the car seat portion.

I think this visual aide says it all:

is to

as

is to


Any questions?

10 random things I hope to teach himmer

1. No matter what - do not believe what your grandfather says about me.
2. You'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar. But a pound of bullcrap will get you even further.
3. Trust me when I tell you learn to play a musical instrument now.
4. Beer before liquor, never sicker. Liquor before beer, never fear.
5. Love. Love what you do. Love where life takes you. Love the one who comes with you.
6. This is not to be confused with "Love the one you're with" which is a bad song AND bad advice.
7. Appreciate your mother. I do.
8. Your high school sweetheart is just a practice run.
9. 12 points to a pica; 6 picas to an inch.
10. I don't care what George Lucas says; Han shot first.

Just for the record

Rae thinks it's a boy*.
(* NOTE: Twig and berries not actual size.)

More names that won't work

A name is a tricky thing - since people tend to grow into them (or fight to become the opposite). Name a boy James and ... well, most of you know how my brother turned out. Name a girl Chastity and ... well, you get the town bicycle.

We've decided to try and avoid names that create great expectations. We'd hate to give himmer an inferiority complex before s/he's had a chance to earn it.

So here's the beginning of the list of great guys:

Mike (I'd hate for anyone to have to live up to me.)
Alexander (When your last name IS Great it's hard for anyone to catch up.)
Wayne (The Great One.)
Mahatma (A name like this inspires playground beat-downs. And the non-violent tendencies would just make it worse.)
Frank (If you'd ever met Frank, you'd know why.)
Mario (But Luigi is still OK as no one admires that guy.)
Noah (Basically, we just feel we have enough pets.)
Moses (We're afraid he'd get lost in the desert.)
Jesus Christ (We just don't like how this sounds with Rice.)

And for girls:

Yeah - I've got nothing. Girl's names just aren't as funny.

NAME MY BABY

So Rae and I are still throwing around names that we like (and throwing out a lot of names that we hate.)
Help us out. See that "comment" link down there? Use it.
Give us a name for both a boy and a girl.
Winner (that is if any of you can beat the names we've established as the front runners) will get something amazing from the "what's on my desk right now that I don't want anymore" grab bag.

And I've got some pretty cool schwag on my desk right now.

So get to it. Post those ideas. If you read this and don't contribute - it means you hate my unborn son/daughter. And what did my unborn son/daughter ever do to you to deserve so much hate?

Notes for dads to be?

So a friend gave Rae a book about what to expect when you are expecting. (I'm not being clever, that's the title of the book - or close to it. I can't remember exactly and I'm too lazy to go in the other room and see what it's really called. That took a lot longer to explain than I thought it would. And it looks like I'm tired enough to carry this on for a while. A möose once bit my sister ... )

But anyway, this book has a section "for the dads." I know Rae has been reading this book - and I know she's been getting a lot out of it - so I hope the person who was kind enough to buy the book for her won't take it personally when I say that the chapter for dads was the most worthless piece of (I'd say something naughty here but G'ma checks in every now and then) that I have ever read. Twenty some odd pages of a waste of time.

Stuff like "Will my relationship with my wife change?" Well, duh. Did you think you'd have a kid and everything would be the same? It's not like buying a new pair of pants. (Though buying a new pair of pants could have an affect on your relationship. Say you bought a pair of pants for your wife - but you bought them three sizes too big. Now your wife thinks that you think that she is a fatty. Not too good for the relationship. But that's easily fixed - just fake temporary blindless and take the pants back. Then return with the proper size AND ice cream. She'll be happy her pants fit and the ice cream tells her you think she could stand to put on a few pounds.)

I seem to have gotten off topic again. Maybe it's for the best. I don't know where this was going anyway?

Where? Albuquerque? No, sorry, wrong state.

Jeez, I need to go to bed.

How many eyes does s/he have !?

I thought I recognized that blobby shape. Not quite human, yet not quite ... something else.

And then all this talk about adding limbs ... developing eyes ... growing ears ...

All the latest ultrasound did is confirm my fears.

I'm not 100% sure I'm the father (how could I be?) but I still love my little spud. For the sake of the family - let us never speak of this again.



Now would someone tell me where the hell the hat came from?

A taste of things to come

So I'm lying in bed this morning trying to sleep while crammed inbetween Rae on one side, two dogs on the other and a cat on top. It's Saturday - a little sleep isn't too much to ask for is it? So as I roll over, trying to get comfortable I notice things are a bit damp.

ONE OF THE DOGS HAS PEED THE BED.

It wasn't there 10 minutes ago when I got up to go to the bathroom. And it wasn't a spiteful "You made me upset, so I'm going to pee where you sleep" - since he was still laying in the puddle. No, this was "I'm tired and I didn't notice I was urinating everywhere."

*SIGH* I thought I had my dogs potty trained. What are we going to do when it comes time train the kid? Obviously we're not very good at it.

Oh well, s/he'll have plenty of time in diapers to help us figure it out I guess.

Now, do they sell diapers for dogs?

Month four brings ...

Rae was reading this magazine she brought back from the doctor detailing everything that is happening to the kid week by week.

We're starting month four, which brings some interesting changes. My child is growing a neck, which is always useful. Fingers and toes are also popping up – so no more flippers. Ears are developing – but only the inner ear. The outer ear comes later. But now s/he can hear - which means s/he can officially start ignoring me. (It's that selective hearing that runs in the Rice family.)

But the most interesting development?


My child has see-through skin. Yes. SEE-THROUGH SKIN. Like some bad sci-fi movie from the 60s. You can see hiser's bones and everything. Now what if s/he stays like that? While uncomfortable during childhood, it could prove to be quite lucrative later in life.

S/he could be a circus freak. Or think of the advantages s/he would have as a biology teacher. (A real, live Visible Wo/Man.) I bet s/he would be a hit on the talk show circuit.

But, I wonder if having see-through skin makes you more susceptible to sunlight? That could be a problem here in Arizona.

Hmmm. I hope s/he outgrows it.

The rules

I got this in e-mail the other day. I'm not really sure how I feel about it - or how it even relates to me. Maybe you'll get it.

Rule number one: You don't argue with a pregnant wife. Especially if she is yours. You will lose.
Rule number two: See rule number one.
Rule number three: When all else fails, ice cream.
Rule number four: If you are going to put this in your blog where your wife can see it, make sure you say you got it from somewhere else and it in no way reflects your feelings. In fact, you don't even see how it applies to you.

Have I mentioned how lucky I am that my wife loves me - even if I can be a bit of a &*$#?

Happy Mother's Day

Consider this a bit of a test run on the whole Mother's Day thing.

We spent the afternoon shopping for maternity clothes - and the checkout girls always made sure to wish Rae a "Happy Mother's Day." Kinda funny considering she isn't really even showing yet.

Tonight, there will be pie. Or cake. Or ice cream. Or knowing us - all three.

Baby doctor update

Another visit to the doctor today.

1. Rae has no nasty blood-based vileness that would harm her or himer. (So the daddy must not be a rock star.)
2. She got to hear himer's heartbeat again. (Which she is still excited about.)
3. She learned how to test her pee for protien and sugar. (When do we stop with the pee tests?)
4. She can take Tylenol. (Which makes me very happy to learn.)
5. She actually lost weight. (Bonus.)
6. Morning sickness should start to taper off soon. (Extra double bonus.)
7. Which should lead to her gaining more weight. (I doubt she's thrilled about that one.)

More news as it breaks.

Home again, home again ...

Two posts, back to back. Can you handle it?

So we just returned from our whirlwind tour of Illinois (and a corner of Indiana.) The highlight of the trip (other than visiting with whoever happens to be reading this right now) was visiting with our almost-six-month-old niece Bailey. As I haven't been around a kid that young for a while, this was a bit of Baby 101 for me. Luckily, I avoided changing any diapers ...

1. If you're going to have a baby - may s/he be as well mannered as Bailey. The kid doesn't cry. Much.
2. When she does cry - look out. Kid's got a set of lungs.
3. We're going to need a lot of bibs.
4. And a couple of changes of clothes.
5. Babies are cute when they poop. They get all squishy faced and red - but the end result? Not so cute.
6. Babies cry when they are tired. But if you try to put them to sleep - they cry more.
7. Babies like to grab stuff. Remember to shave.
8. And while you are at it - trim their nails.
9. And speaking of grabbing things. If they have it, it's in the mouth. Which means it's gonna be really wet.
10. Need more bibs.

More on names

So this weekend we were discussing the origins of names. Specifically Peg.

Margaret shortens to Maggie. Maggie shortens to Meg. Meg becomes Peg.

Which seems a little wrong to me. You can't get Peg from Margaret. There's no "P."

But I've decided to embrace it. If we have a son, he'll be named Michael. But we'll change it up - so I don't look vain.

Michael shortens to Mike. Mike becomes Like. Like becomes Bike. Bike becomes Evil Knievel. Evil Kenievel shortens to E.K.

But he'll go by Frank.




It was a lot funnier this morning.

Homecoming

Getting ready to go visit my sister-in-law and our new niece.
(And yes, all the rest of you - but face it, Bailey is the reason we're coming.)
I'm considering this a practice run with an infant. But I'm not changing any diapers.

Your kid. Your poop. Your problem. :-D