Shower pictures UPDATED**

OK - I wasn't at the shower. I had manly things to do – like go see a horrible film instead. But that won't stop me from providing captions to all the lovely pictures that Maggie took during the festivities.

** Maggie provides some insight from behind the camera. Her "thoughts" follow in italics.

"YAY! NO COLDCUTS!" (Though later Rae got hungry and thought how nice it would be to have a nice deli tray.)

Actually, Rae never uttered the phrase “Yay, no coldcuts.” She did, however, repeat “More cake!” at least six times.

Shortly after this photo was taken, Mel was assaulted by a pregnant woman. She was left shaken, but unharmed. Authorities believe the assailant was hungry and wanted the boneless chicken wings on Mel's plate. Readers are reminded that if you are going to vacation around pregnant women, please secure all extra food out of their reach – preferably on a high shelf, or suspended from a tree branch.

There was no assault. Mel was wise enough to keep Rae’s plate full to overflowing at all times. What Mr. Rice assumed was an assault was obviously Rae’s elation over being served something other than a ham sandwich.

Rae isn't smiling because she got her shower. She's not smiling because her mom and sister called her. She's smiling because her husband Photoshopped the giant zit off her chin in this close-up.

Zit? What zit? Rae hasn’t a blemish on her peaches and cream complexion!

"Oh please let this one be for me. Kaylee got enough stuff … where's that Dyson I've been hinting nonstop at?"

Rae is actually opening the lovely nursery organizer handmade by Hawaii. It’s really cool and beautiful. But don’t take my word for it; Mike, post a photo, okay?

Rae marvels at the dinosaur slippers Great-grandma Rice made for Kaylee. What? Frogs? I don't know what you're talking about – those are clearly dinosaurs. Since when does G'ma have anything to do with frogs?

They are definitely frogs. Am I the only one who’s wondering if they’ll fit Porthos?

Aunt Ruth sent a pair of hand-made lace slippers. (I can't call them "booties" – they'll take away what little bit of manhood I've been allowed to keep.)

They are indeed booties, not slippers. And they are so detailed!

"Oh look, it's another adorable baby thing. Here, pass it on."

Yeah, that’s pretty much an accurate assessment of that particular moment.

Operator error.

I beg your pardon? It was NOT operator error. Your batteries suck. I had to turn the camera off after every shot, and then quickly back on again to get it to function. And then it was slow…really…really…sloooooow.

"GIVE ME … A KEG … OF BEER … "
(C'mon, it's a "Teen Wolf" reference. It's at least a little funny.)

She wasn’t really looking for a keg here; she was demonstrating what we now refer to as her “labor face.”

Reasons #2 and #3 why Mike is a lucky, lucky man.

Oh, yeah, that’s EXACTLY why I took this photo. Because there’s nothing I enjoy more than zooming in on Rae’s ample bosom.

But in all seriousness, the shower was wonderful, even if it was a chore to keep it a surprise! Rae is even more beautiful in person than she is in pictures, Mel was a perfect hostess, and Rae’s friends were delightful company. A good time was had by all.

Especially me, because I got to drive Mike’s car back to the house.

Shower power

Despite the efforts of half the planet - Rae's baby shower happened today. And it remained a surprise. Actually it turned out a little better than we planned - all because of a phone message.

Racheal called me Friday on my way home from work to ask about a message on our machine. It was from one of her friends and said something to the affect of "Sorry I can't be in Arizona for your shower this weekend. Hope you have fun."

"When you get home you have some explaining to do," she said.

I played dumb, or tried to, and hung up on her. I then called Mel - on the left and the organizer of this shindig - to work out the details on how we were going to convince Rae there is no shower. (And have a little bit of fun with the whole thing.) We decide that Mel is going to call us Saturday to invite us up for an impromptu lunch "promptly at 1:30."

Then I hang up and call Maggie, who is flying in from Chicago and in the air as I speak, to tell her to play dumb when we pick her up from the airport. The contents of said message are too vulgar and laden with profanity to repeat in this public forum.

As soon as I get home I get grilled. And of course, when Rae really wants to get something out of me she gives me "that look." And it always cracks me up - no matter if I'm lying or not. (Which of course I am this time.) So for ten minutes I do my best to convince her that I know nothing about a baby shower this weekend - or at least that I'm not planning one.

Fast forward to the airport. Maggie isn't in the car for five minutes before Rae asks "So what can you tell me about the shower this weekend?"

"What? You mean Mike's sister's shower that's on Sunday?" Maggie does a good job of putting up a wall and holding the line - but Rae's still not buying it. "Why would people leave a message about a baby shower if there is no baby shower?"

Because they didn't know it was a surprise? Maybe? But I don't say that - I know better.

So, Saturday afternoon Rae gets a phone call from Mel. "Hey, I'm taking a break from all my stuff and we're having cold cuts for lunch. Do you want to come up? Be here at 1:30 if you do."

Now, we never turn down a free lunch. And we like cold cuts. (Nothing beats a variety of meats and cheeses.) But Rae is SURE that we're headed into a shower. She's all smiles. She's giving Maggie and I knowing looks as we drive up to the house.

But when we get there? No cars. No people. No presents. No shower.

Only cold cuts.

Rae eats her lunch and doesn't mention anything about the shower for the rest of the day.

We've broken her. Crushed. You do not mess with the master.

When we get home I realize I've lost my work phone. (In reality I have given it to Johnny, but we'll get to that.) I spend the rest of the day mentioning to Rae that I can't find it and I need it just in case the Pope hijacks an airplane to invade Iran and I have to go to work.

Fast forward to Sunday. We're waking up and talking when Rae says, "You know, I didn't realize how much I wanted a shower until we showed up at the house and there wasn't one. Only cold cuts." It takes all of my power not to laugh. In fact, the inside of my cheek still hurts from biting it.

We go about our day and we're getting ready to head out for lunch and grab a bite to eat. Rae is planning on meeting Mel to go dress shopping (Rae is in Mel's wedding about a week before she's due) in a few hours. Johnny calls Rae on her cell - from my cell phone. We decide that since I need my phone, we'll swing up that way and go to lunch with them.

Rae suspects nothing. When she sees multiple cars lined up outside the house it doesn't register. When she sees the balloons at the end of the drive she's still not sure. When we pull in and she sees multiple people it sinks in.

"You guys suck," and a smile are all she can get out.

More later.

Not a lot going on

Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

That's pretty much all we've had time for in the past week.

Kaylee's been pretty active though. She's gone from just kicking and punching to turning summersaults in Rae's belly. What's wild is that you can see it. Her whole belly twists and contorts. I keep waiting for the alien to pop out.

Not much else going on though - I'm sure we'll come up with something blog-worthy this weekend since Maggie is coming to town. (Though that "something" may just be Maggie and I getting loaded on tequilla while Rae watches.)

Whose mones? Her mones.

Rae and I have been married for almost five years now. Just when you think you know someone ... they go and get pregnant, thereby altering their entire body chemistry.

Yesterday pretty much sums everything up:

1) Rae asks me to do a simple task, to which ...
2) I offer a simpler solution, which she goes to do. And then ...
3) Rae returns with a follow-up question ...
4) Which I promptly give her the answer to ...
5) Which, for some unknown reason, really ticks her off ...
6) So I ask her why she's PO'd at me ...
7) Which causes her to start crying ...
8) So I ask her why she's crying ...
9) Which causes her to start laughing ...
10) Which confuses the hell out of me.

Hormones suck.

Bandwidth explosion!

Nothing really important to share. Rae and I finally bought the kid a bed – AND put it together all by ourselves. How's that for love? We didn't pay a professional to do it or anything.

Now I just hope it doesn't collapse.

A step by step photo-documentary follows:*

I returned from Orlando to find THIS in the baby's room. What could it be? An hour of fun – that's what. Rae is either excited – or she's going to eat the dog. Eddie's not sure which.

Well, with the box out of the way this doesn't look too bad. Five pieces and some hardware. This should take about ten minutes.

Rae gets started attaching the hardware to the mattress spring. Because the bolts are so large and akward, this takes about twenty minutes by itself.

Then, after I move on to the next step and read the directions, we determine Rae has selected the wrong bolts. So we start over. Hasn't she learned anything by watching me? ALWAYS READ THE DIRECTIONS.

Meanwhile, the dog and I have been done with the bedframe for quite a while. In fact, we almost fell asleep waiting for Rae to redo her part of the project. (Now I know what you're thinking. How much help was Porthos, really? Well – at least he didn't choose the wrong hardware.)

As punishment for messing up her part and making us wait, Rae is given the additional task of contorting her body to attach the springs to the frame. Mike and the dogs point and laugh. (You're going to have to work with me here. Pretend dogs can point.)

Rae is unable to finish this task due to the fact that her belly looks like she really DID eat the dog. (Don't worry – we have a spare.) Luckily a very handsome man with a wonderfully high metabolism was around to finish the job.

Either Rae is happy with the final results – or she is thrilled about having pictures of herself wearing her pajamas posted all over the internet.

And yes – we know we have to put in a mattress.

(Mental note, buy mattress.)

* Some details may have been embellished or made up entirely. It's a blog, not a reputable news source.

Of business, babies and burgers

Sorry for not posting (Berda) but I just HAD to take that business trip to Orlando. Yes, the Orlando with Disney World. Some days I love my job.

Anyway, Rae gave me an interesting tidbit of info that's been stuck in my head for a while. According to all of her baby books – Kaylee is weighing in at about 2 pounds right now.

Wow. Two pounds.

Now I know what you're saying.

"Mike, I'm having a hard time visualizing what two pounds looks like."

So here's a visual aide for you ...



That's right. Kaylee weighs the equivilant of eight Quarter Pounders (with cheese) from McDonalds.

"Wow Mike, that's impressive. What other amazing facts do you have to share with us this morning?"

Well, I'm glad you asked. Did you know that if Kaylee were made up of cheeseburgers from McDonalds her nutritional information would be:

One hundred forty four grams of fat.
Fifty six grams of saturated fat.
Five hundred sixty miligrams of cholesterol.
Five thousand, eight hundred forty miligrams of sodium.
Three thousand, three hundred sixty calories.

And if you ate all of them, not only would you be feeling very ill, you would be going to jail.

Because you ate baby burgers.

You disgust me.

More baby shopping

Bought a crib today. A nice, solid hardwood number that converts to a toddler bed and then all the way up to a full size bed. We were looking at several sets from the department stores - but I made the mistake of reading the reviews.

For every one review praising the cribs there was another saying how shoddy they were, or how the baby got it's head stuck between the bars or the whole thing collapsed and burst into flames.

OK - I never actually read that last part in a review, but that's what it looked like in my head. Hence the purchase we made.

I hope Kaylee likes it - cause she's stuck with it for at least 18 years.

It's mid-week 26 …

… and Rae's belly is officially big enough that she can knock a can of Coke off the kitchen counter with it.

Really.

She could turn around and - BAM - Coke would go flying.

I'm not saying that she did that.

That would imply that either our kitchen counters are at my waist level - or that she has gained about 6 inches with the pregnancy.

She has smacked me with it though.

Kinda hurts getting whacked with a baby.

But it's one of those things you just have to laugh at.

Try blogging sheep*

I should be sleeping.

But instead I lay there and think about work and babies and work and babies and work and babies and work and ... you get the idea.

So instead I'm sitting here updating my oft-ignored blog. (You've missed me. I know it. Well maybe not YOU, but everyone else has.)

We've had a sudden influx of all things baby in our house. Boxes have been arriving and the stuff has started piling up. Most of it is second-hand, but that's fine, because I have no problem using things that have had a little bit of love already.

Especially clothes. Damn, baby clothes are expensive. But thanks to our sisters and our friend Lambert, we've got a good start on Kaylee's wardrobe for the entire first year. Lambert even sent along one of his girls' snowsuits. You know, just in case.

Not tired yet.

But it doesn't end there. We've got one of those diaper genie things - and enough refill cartridges to get us through at least the first week. We've got a baby monitor - which is really hard to test because one person has to talk in a normal voice while the other person screams "YES! I CAN HEAR YOU!"

I'm told there is even a very nice breast pump on the way. And apparently it makes a very amusing oogachaka sound when it is in use. It's supposed to be very amusing - but drawbacks include sore nipples and the sound is known to attract Germans.

Yeah. Not even a little sleepy.

So we've got all this stuff - and we don't even have a baby yet. What we do have is a room for the baby. Or, for now, all the baby's stuff. It's basically the guest bedroom - with the bed removed - and boxes of crap everywhere. I'm hoping we get it all organized and put away before Kaylee gets here - otherwise I know it's never going to get done.

OK, this isn't getting me anywhere. I'm going to go and try TIVO.

*It made sense when I typed it. Quit picking on me.

It only hurts when I laugh ...

You know that cute thing Rae's nose does when she laughs?

James?

For those who haven't noticed - or eaten dinner with the Rice clan - her nostrils flare whenever she laughs. It is a source of embarassment for her and infinitely amusing to myself and my family.

It just got better.

Now when she laughs - her belly button pooches out like a little sausage. I swear to God. I'll try to get it on video, but she's a little camera shy.

This just in ...

I can actually grab a hold of Rae's belly button.

Even with her squirming and telling me not to.

For those of you who have never actually held a belly button - it's weird.

A Seinfeldian update

So there isn't much going on right now to fill you guys in on.

We haven't made any progress on the baby's room. We kind of need to go buy a crib and such before we can go any further there. We're not going to paint the room - we're going to leave it as is. Though we are going to tear down those hideous curtains that are in there. And maybe cover over that horrible stenciling the previous owner decided to put on the wall.

Yeah - we're definately painting over that.

So I did some research online. That didn't come up with much either. Apparently nothing cool happens in week 25. And after working 13.5 hours yesterday, I'm just not able to spin the boring stuff and make it interesting. You'll just have to find another monkey to dance and entertain you.

Because I can't do it. I don't have a monkey hat.

(I'm not going to let this one go anytime soon. Click on the comments to sign the "Becky should make Mike a monkey hat" petition.)

Mmmmmm … fruit.*

In February we had grapefruit



June brought cantaloupe



August? Watermelon.



What? You think I'm talking about … ?

Topics like that have no place here.

Pervert.

* It's a boob joke. It's funny. Really it is. Tough crowd ...

Monkey hat

Today we got a hand-made monkey hat in the mail from my sister. Funny on it's own - but even funnier when you put it on the cat.* (We don't have a baby to model it and my head is just too big.)

In case you can't tell, the cat is not happy.

I, however, am.

Monkey hats are cool. If my sister loved me she would make me a matching one.

I might even be stupid enough to wear it.

Yeah. I'm stupid enough.**


* Inset of my cat added because Andrew said it would make the photo infinitely more funny. Personally, I'd like to add video - you really need to see her little legs flailing around to get the full effect.

**Just for the record, I am not actually wearing the hat. My head would strech the thing out. So my sister needs to make me one of my own. And matching gloves.

From dad ...

Sure NOW I get warnings like this (edited, because it was just way too long):

For those with No children - this is totally hysterical! For those who already have children past this age - this is hilarious. For those who have children this age - this is not funny. For those who have children nearing this age - this is a warning. For those who have not yet had children - this is birth control. See what you have to look forward to? The following came from an anonymous Mother in Austin, Texas.

Things I've learned from my Children (honest & no kidding):

1. A king size waterbed holds enough water to fill a 2000 sq.ft. house 4
inches deep.
2. If you spray hair spray on dust bunnies and run over them with roller blades, they can ignite.
3. A 3-year old's voice is louder than 200 adults in a crowded restaurant.
4. If you hook a dog leash over a ceiling fan, the motor is not strong enough to rotate a 42 pound boy wearing Batman underwear and a Superman cape. It is strong enough, however, if tied to a paint can, to spread paint on all four walls of a 20x20 ft. room.
5. You should not throw baseballs up when the ceiling fan is on. When using a ceiling fan as a bat, you have to throw the ball up a few times before you get a hit. A ceiling fan can hit a baseball a long way.
6. The glass in windows (even double-pane) doesn't stop a baseball hit by a ceiling fan.
7. When you hear the toilet flush and the words "uh oh," it's already too late.
8. Play dough and microwave should not be used in the same sentence.
9. Super glue is forever.
10. No matter how much Jell-O you put in a swimming pool you still can't walk on water.
11. Pool filters do not like Jell-O.
12. VCR's do not eject PB&J sandwiches even though TV commercials show they do.
13. Garbage bags do not make good parachutes. (I can vouch for this one.)
14. Always look in the oven before you turn it on. Plastic toys do not like ovens.
15. The spin cycle on the washing machine does not make earthworms dizzy.
16. It will, however, make cats dizzy.
17. Cats throw up twice their body weight when dizzy.

Happy birthday to Rae ...

It's a couple of days early - but I surprised Rae with trip to the spa today.
One haircut, a pedicure and a pre-natal massage later and she's one happy camper.

Rae says Kaylee must like spa days as she was kicking up a storm during the massage. I think she's just trying to get me to spring for another one. ;-)

Back at the baby doctor

Rae was on her own this morning – no baby doctor for me – so Rae had to deal with one of the BDMs* on her own today. She called me immediately after - though there's not much to report. They measured her belly and checked her oil. She's good for another 3,000 miles.

In other news, (spin in chair, change cameras and smile for the audience) we received this in email this morning (thanks Mags) and it was just too good not to share. Even Rae laughed at them.

The Top 15 Fatal Things to Say to Your Pregnant Wife

15. Y'know, looking at her, you'd never guess that Pamela Lee had a baby!
14. I sure hope your thighs aren't gonna stay that flabby forever!
13. Well, couldn't they induce labor? The 25th is the Super Bowl.
12. Damn if you ain't about five pounds away from a surprise visit from that Richard Simmons fella.
11. Fred at the office passed a stone the size of a pea. Boy, that's gotta hurt.
10. Whoa! For a minute there, I thought I woke up next to Willard Scott!
9. I'm jealous! Why can't men experience the joy of childbirth?
8. Are your ankles supposed to look like that?
7. Get your *own* ice cream, Buddha!
6. Geez, you're awfully puffy looking today.
5. Got milk?
4. Maybe we should name the baby after my secretary, Tawney.
3. Man! That rose tattoo on your hip is the size of Madagascar!
2. Retaining water? Yeah, like the Hoover Dam retains water.
1. Not to imply anything, but I don't think the kid weighs forty pounds.

* Baby Doctor Minion for those not in the know. They are to the Baby Doctor as the flying monkeys are to the Wicked Witch. Except none of them are really evil. At least, I don't think so. Oh, and they don't fly.

Poppin' fresh

There's not a huge difference in Rae's profile since the last photo I shared with you a month ago. Especially with this outfit – the ever-growing belly is a bit camoflauged in this shot.

There is one small addition though. It may be difficult to see, so I took the liberty of pointing it out for you. That would be the red arrow in the picture.


Rae's baby-bump has a baby-bump of it's own. That's right, her belly button has gone from concave to convex. The button is popping – so the turkey must be almost done.

Mmmmmm … turkey … basting in a gravy of fetal urine …


I'm not quite sure what's going on here. I'm mostly distracted by the difference in color between Rae's arms and her belly. Conspiracy theorists claim that this photo is actually a composite of two different people. But I can vouch for the fact that farmer tan Rae just hasn't had much of an opportunity to wear that bikini this summer. ;-)

Rae's been busy

Ya - she's nesting. She's got boxes of stuff ready for a garage sale. The guest room is pretty much cleaned out and ready for Babies R Us to move in. The whole house is getting reorganized. She is even going through her shoes and putting some into the "for sale" boxes.

If you know Rae, you know how big of a deal this is. Rae hoardes shoes like I hoard ... well, everything else.

We're also planning a trip to the fabric store to pick up some material to make pillows. Lots of cleaning going on. I wouldn't be surprised if we order a baby bedroom set while we are out and about today.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting here in front of the computer waiting for lunch to get done.

Mmmmmmmm. Cheesy hot dogs.

Cool.

The baby totally kicked me.

Twice.

Baby schwag

We've slowly but surely been gathering things for Kaylee's arrival.** Berda sent us a whole box full of clothes. Shirts. Pants. Onesies. And those headbands that little baby girls who have no hair wear so you can tell that they are girls.

I hope Kaylee has hair. I think those headbands look a bit odd. Maybe I'll just get her a shirt that says "I'm a girl, dammit!"

Other things we have picked up include:


Kaylee's (already favorite) Aunt Margaret sent this bear (it's not a bear - it's a marsupial!) with Kaylee's name and apparently her foot prints on the shirt. Still not sure how she pulled that off. Rae doesn't remember the baby being missing for any period of time. Oh, and the tag on her butt even says "Kaylee." How cool is that?


We found this onesie in San Diego and just couldn't pass it up. Rather, Rae just couldn't pass it up. We drove seven hours in the middle of the night to go to a comic book convention ... and buy baby clothes.


This is Moxy. We found her while we were on vacation in Charlotte last month. She is officially one of the ugliest stuffed animals I have ever seen. So we had to buy her.


And here's Rae meeting Moxy's older brother Ox in San Diego. We were going to bring him home too, but he wouldn't fit in the crib. Besides, I don't think he looks baby safe.

** If you sent us something and I didn't mention it, don't take it personally. We don't dislike what you sent us – I just couldn't think of anything witty to say about it.

On the road again ...

Well, it's official. We've hit that stretch in the middle where's it's boring and nothing is happening.

It's like the road trips we used to take to Grandma's house. Right now we're stuck in the mind-numbingly boring southern end of Missouri. It takes so long to get through you actually pray for the Arkansas state line.

We've done all the fun stuff. We know she's a girl. And we know her name is Kaylee. Now we're just waiting to meet her. Don't get me wrong – there's still a lot to do and experience. It's just that the BIG stuff is out of the way already.

Rae did call me into the other room tonight (upsetting my game of Grand Theft Auto). Kaylee was kicking so hard her belly was moving. But she got real shy as soon as I showed up. One of these days I'll be able to sneak up on her. It shouldn't be THAT hard. I mean, even if her eyes were open she couldn't see me.

On an almost related note – Rae and I have decided to take a weekend trip. One last weekend away before Kaylee changes our social life forever. We're packing up the convertible and driving out to San Diego for an overnight trip. (Yeah, it's another dork trip.)

You like how I did that? Started with a road trip and ended with a road trip? You'd think I was a professional writer or something. Jack Bleedin' Kerouac or something.

Word.

Baby Registry blues

OK - I apologize. The Babies R Us website stinks. If you click on the link and try to search for Racheal Rice or Michael Rice you'll be told that zero registries meet your search criteria.

BUT – if you search for Rice in AZ you'll find us.

Since emailing the site did no good, I called the customer service number. An overly-polite service representitive tells me that it will be fixed soon. I'm not holding my breath.

Side note: The phone number is 1-888-BABYRUS. I misdialed 1-800 ... and got a good laugh. Let's just say the phone number is more about making babies. ;-)

Butt jokes*

As most of you know, my mom died of colon cancer a couple of years ago. And it's one of those things that just happens to run in the family. Which puts me at risk. Dad's been riding my ass (Ha!) for YEARS now to get checked out.

I've been thinking hard about this for a long time – and I finally got off my butt (Ha!) and scheduled my colonoscopy. It's not going to happen for a couple of months, apparently there are a lot of people in line to get a camera crammed up their bum. All of your nagging paid off. It's on the books and will happen.

Dad's been after me to do this. Rae's been after me to do this. My sister has been after me to do this. My entire family has been after me to do this. Really – it's one of the last things I want to do. I just don't want to know.

But I'm doing it for Kaylee.

Kid's not even here yet and she's already a pain in my ass.

(Ha!)

* Butt jokes have been distinguished in the copy above with a (Ha!) just in case you don't have a sense of humor, or mine isn't as good as I think it is.

More pictures

Basically Rae is expanding forward. If you compare these pictures to past ones it's like someone just pulled her chest and belly out and left everything else alone.

I'm pretty sure that in the second photo – she's trying to see her toes.




She's in mid-week 20 for those of you playing along at home.

Bah ... you guys are no fun

I was hoping to drag that on for at least a week. Now I actually have to think about what I'm going to post. :-P

So yes, the answer is Kaylee Marie Rice. That's her name and we're sticking to it. Unless she actually turns out to be a he - in which case I have no idea what we'll name him. Actually, we may keep Kaylee and just make him wear a dress. A big shiny pink dress.

So my friend Dave is the winner by default. He guessed Kaylee in the comments. His prize shall be great. (Though I don't know what it is - or when he will actually receive it.)

"Craig Thompson" put two and two together and came up with the whole name - but he wins nothing because I have no idea who he is. Unless he's the guy who created "Blankets" in which case he rocks.

Can I have an "I"?

Does that help? Feel free to guess another letter. One guess per day. I'll update the next day with more blanks filled in - or not. Guess by clicking the "Comment" link at the bottom of the post.

Shotgun update
No, I haven't bought one yet - but my friend Dave writes:

I suggest a Barretta gas powered 12 gauge. It hold 8 shells is semi automatic (meaning you can fire it as fast as you can pull the trigger) it doesn't kick much (for a shotgun) and it will blow a log in half with three shots. Yes, a whole log in half. Badass huh?

I'll have to look into that. And then I'll take my brother-in-law up on those lessons.

Baby registry
Rae and I had some problems with the online version of our list. I'm hoping they fix it in the next couple of days. Link is still to the right. ------>

Name update and more

Here's the E's. Feel free to guess another letter. One guess per day. I'll update the next day with more blanks filled in - or not. Guess by clicking the "Comment" link at the bottom of the post.

At the baby store
So Rae and I spent 4 hours at Babies-R-Us yesterday. We combed through the entire store looking at all the things we need to buy. And even after you weed out all the crap that only über-consumers would buy (like the wipes warmer) there's still a lot. So we did the next best thing - we registered for it all. That way you guys can buy it all for us.

Link is in the rail on the right (not that I'm hinting or anything.)

There won't be any baby shower - since we live here and all of you live everywhere but here. So I suggest you plan between yourselves to get together in small groups, have some cake, play some stupid games and tell us how much fun you had.

We made our first official purchase though. I own a stroller. Never really thought I'd be able to say that. But the good news is we managed to avoid the SUV strollers.

Which believe me, is very hard to do. I could ride in 99% of the strollers they sell today. And I really don't want to be that person whose stroller takes up the whole aisle at the mall.

I hate that person.

Oh - I did register for the baby wipes warmer. I'm not going to buy that crap - but I can make fun of one of you for buying it.

We have a name

I know. Rae knows. Grandma knows.
And none of us are telling. Yet.

Into the pool

I'm at a total loss as to how to start this. The baby has been Himmer for so long I don't know if I can talk about her without slipping into gender neutral speak.

Anyway.

Her due date is 11/28/06. We've established that. And the ultrasound the other day gave the BDM no reason not to trust it.

But she doesn't know Rae and I very well.

In case you hadn't noticed, and I'd be very surprised, Rae and I are notoriously late. Not very late - but we're always running 20 minutes slow.

At least.

So I just wanted to make a prediction.

She will be born 11/30/06 at 3:24 a.m.

She will be screaming. Rae will be exhausted. I'll be the one with a camera.

In other news: Rae went back to the Baby Doctor today. No news is good news. Rae has officially gained back all the weight she lost so far. The only other thing I can think of to pass on to you is that the baby weighs about 1 pound now and is about the size of a banana.


Maybe I should be calling her Chiquita?

So you really want to know?

So, as you know, I accompanied Rae to the Baby Doctor again this morning. Well, it wasn't The Baby Doctor - rather one of her many minions. Our goal - show me the money. Boy or girl, I don't care, just give me two arms, two legs, ten fingers and toes.

So we're escorted into a dark room. Rae is instructed by the Baby Doctor Minion (hence-forth known as the BDM) to lie down on the table and whip out her belly. I am told to go sit in the corner where I can watch all the action on the television.

TV. I get to watch TV. What a perfect morning. I love TV.

So Rae pulls out the Buddha belly (which is looking quite round these days - hard to believe it will get bigger) and the BDM squeezes a bunch of jelly on to it and begins to move it around with this flashlight/mouse looking thing.

The rest of it is a blur. All of a sudden I'm looking at Himmer in real-time. For the first time. This is so cool. I get to see Himmer's brain and watch hisser heart beat (just like E.T.) and the BDM tells us that Himmer's bladder is currently full. To her that means the kidneys are working properly. It only reminds me that Himmer is swimming around in hisser own pee.


How's that for a first shot? Look on the right and you'll see Himmer's head. S/he's looking up into the camera/flashlight/mouse-looking thingie. You can see eyes, nose, mouth ... Basically Himmer's whole face. It's that skull-looking thing.


Now that's more like it. The typical ultrasound profile. Head on the right, then the body and that flappy thing on the left is Himmer's femur. S/he's all curled up in the fetal position. Go figure. And look at that nose - isn't it cute? Looks like Himmer got Rae's nose. Yay!

But is it a boy or a girl? That's all we want to know!

Yeah - well I had to wait until the end, so you do too.

So the BDM asks us if we want to know the sex of Himmer. And since we're both sick of Himmer, hisser and s/he we both say yes. So the BDM says she'll see if she can get Himmer to cooperate with us so we can find out. Yeah, we got cooperation. We got spread eagle.

Looks like we're going to have to work on teaching her how to sit like a lady.

That's my not so subtle way of telling you we're having a girl.

Rae's a little disappointed. Not because it's a girl - but because she was sure it is a boy. She just wanted to be right.

Me? I'm thrilled. I've got so many new things to experience now. I've never been a gun person - but I'm going out tomorrow to buy a real nice shotgun. I'll probably never fire it - just save it for when she gets to dating age. Then I'll bring it out to polish whenever her would-be boyfriends come by the house.

It's all a lot more real now. Himmer is a her. Now we can start working on names.

T-minus one hour ...

Headed to the Baby Doctor soon. Hunting for twigs and berries. Or the lack thereof. Updates as they happen.

UPDATE: I'm sure the anticipation is killing you. Photos and update coming as soon as I get off work. :)

Himmer's first dork experience ...

Himmer is a dork.

Rae and I travelled to a comic book convention over the weekend. Yes, a comic book convention. I will give you a minute to get over your snickering fit.

And no, we don't dress up in costumes, we don't play with Pokemon cards and we don't discuss the merits of Star Trek vs. Star Wars. (At least not at length.)

Better? Then we move on.

So I'm sure himmer could sense the anticipation. As soon as we got on the plane s/he started kicking the crap out of Rae. Not that fluttery "I've got gas" feeling but full-on "HEY, STICK YOUR HAND RIGHT HERE AND FEEL THIS" sensations.

Numerous times I had to remind Rae that we were in a public place and I wasn't going to stick my hand down the front of her shorts so I could attempt to feel the baby. (She was just excited - and no, I never felt the kick).

So all during the flight there, kicking. Waiting in line early Friday morning, kicking. During the con, kicking. After the con? Not so much, himmer seemed to settle down.

My explaination? Himmer is a capital D-O-R-K. S/he got all excited for the convention (probably anticipating hisser first Adam Hughes sketch - which will have to wait for next year), was thrilled to be there and was so tired out from the event that s/he could barely muster up the energy to kick Rae in protest of having to leave.

I'm sure that's what it was. I'll have to ask the baby doctor about it Wednesday. (REMINDER: We're going in for the big ultrasound then.) I can't wait. We're very excited. We'll finally be able to focus on just one list of names.

I wonder if you can put an AH! sketch on a baby shower gift registry?

Ever seen a baby fly?

So himmer is taking hisser first flight today. (Well, second really, but s/he was way too young to remember the first one.)

I hope s/he isn't one of those people who gets sick and throws up on airplanes. If so, s/he is going to be swimming around in hisser own pee AND vomit.

And I can't imagine that would be pleasant at all.

God I can't wait until we get back and we find out if himmer is a he or a she. Trying to write for dual genders at 3:30 in the morning really hurts your brain.

No reason to blame the dog

Much baby movement tonight. I'm pretty sure it was the baby this time – I didn't notice any offending odors.

That and Rae had that Oh-My-God-I-Think-I-Can-Feel-The-Baby-Moving grin on her face. She's really cute when she gets that look.

She says it feels like somone tickling her stomach from the inside. Funny, I know exactly how that feels.

Here's a free life lesson from me to you. Never eat a crab tostada in South Tucson during the summer. It'll make your baby move.

"C" is for ...

I've noticed something about Rae since she got pregnant. She just can't seem to get enough cookies.

Going to sleep at night. She wants a cookie.
First thing in the morning. She wants a cookie.
During dinner. She wants a cookie.
At the mall. She wants a cookie.
During the movies. She wants a cookie.
After she has had a cookie. She wants another cookie.

Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie. Cookie.

"C" may be for cookie, but "O" is for obsessed.

Christmas comes early

I looked at the calendar and realized we have 12 short days until the BIG ultrasound which will finally reveal if himmer is a Glen or Glenda. (Not that we're using those names, it's just an obscure movie reference.) So I got to thinking about 12. A dozen. Half a day. 12 days ...

On the first day 'fore ultrasound, my true love gave to me,
A baby in her belly ...

Now you can see where that was going. It had major potential for eye-rollage and to scare off whatever few readers this site might have that aren't genetically linked to me. (All one of them.) So as my early Christmas gift to you, I give you the gift of stopping this stupid idea before it goes any further.

Everybody wins - and you don't even have to drive to the mall, fight for a parking spot, stand in line, argue with a sales clerk (it's a gift, why would I have a receipt?!) and exchange the gift for store credit.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

Done mixing and matching ...

She's worn the big shirts.
She's worn the stretchy pants.
But now she's gone into uncharted territory.

Today Rae wore an outfit made completely of maternity clothes.

And she didn't hyper-ventilate once. (At least not that she will admit.)

Quick! Check her stats!

I should have started this sooner so you'd have some sense of how things have changed. But I'm not that smart. Luckily, I'm devestatingly handsome - so that gets me through most of life's challenges.

You - in the back. Quit smirking.

Belly: 36 inches
Belly button depth: Approx. .25" deep
Bust: Like I'm gonna put that on the internet. What kind of pervs do you want me to attract to this blog?
Butt: Again. Not gonna happen. But this time because I know Rae will read this and I value my life.
Height: Still 5-foot two and three-fourths of an inch.
Weight: I don't know. Rae won't allow a scale in the house.

So really, you didn't get too much out of that. Sorry. There's just not too much going on right now. Feel like you didn't get your money's worth from this entry? Let me make it up to you. Here's a clip of a monkey sniffing his own butt.

Happy Father's Day

Not that we had anything planned anyway - but I'm sick on the couch all day.
Spending all day in front of a TV doesn't sound like a bad FD - but you don't want what comes with it.

Trust me.

[Edit: My dad called to wish me a happy Father's Day - and I was so out of it I forgot to reciprocate. So happy Father's Day dad.]

Scene from a home office with a pregnant lady and her tired husband

[Scene: Early morning. Mike is bleary-eyed and trying to boot up his computer (stoopid firmware update won't go through.) Rae enters stage right.]

Rae: Good morning.
Mike: Mmmmpppphhhfff.
I didn't want to get up this early, stupid sun.
Mmmmpppphhhfff.
I need some love, gimme a hug.

[Rae spins his chair around, climbs on his lap and proceeds to full-body hug.]

Oh, excuse me.
Mmmmpppphhhfff.

[The smell begins to waft upward.]
Oh, and it's stinky too ...
Mmmmpppphhhfff.

[Rae looks around for a dog to blame and for the first time EVER, there is not one underfoot.]

I'm sorry. It just - ya know ...
Mmmmpppphhhfff.

[End scene.]

Month five already?

My how time flies. Today marks the very beginning of month five. Himmer's going to be here before you know it. But you don't want to hear that. You want ...

More random facts about himmer from the Baby Doctor magazine.
(If this doesn't sound familiar, check out month four back in April.)

FACT: My baby is growing ears. But will likely only be able to hear hisser mother for the next month or so. (I'm willing to bet I continue to get ignored well after that.)
FACT: Almost all of the follicles from which my baby's hair will grow develop this month. (Kid - you had better pray you get your mother's genes. Unless you're a girl, in which case you will likely never have to shave your legs.)
FACT: My baby is free-floating in about a pint of amniotic fluid. Said fluid, which is completely replaced every 24 hours, is mostly made up of fetal urine. (Yes, baby pee.) And most of this fluid is removed by himmer swallowing it. (I'm really hoping s/he outgrows this.)
FACT: Himmer's sucking reflex is strong and if hisser thumb should happen to float past hisser mouth, s/he may suck hisser thumb. (Please, no jokes about himmer's inate aptitude to suck.)
FACT: Himmer's bones are developing and Rae is a lot more likely to feel himmer moving around. (Great, more things to blame on the dog.)

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