What Was She Thinking???

Now, here's what I'm talking about. Actually, before I talk about that, let me pose a hypothetical. What is it about hospitals? Why are they always so cold and ugly? Not to criticize, since I know that the people in them are there to help, but seriously. I think I get sick sitting in there thinking about being sick.

Anyways, just a little criticism. But, as I sat there watching my wife on a glorified coffee table--actually it was more like a cross between a dining room table and an ottoman--I wondered what she was thinking.

First, the doctor puts a little towel over her and then some sticky gooey stuff--which apparantly was somewhat "warm". Of course, I can't compare between the warm stuff and the cold. But with that said, when I found out it was warm, I was a little jealous and would have liked to put some warm gooey clear stuff on my tummy...oh that'd be nice. But I digress.

From there he reached over to his table of tools and grabbed one of his many scanner things. And then he did it. He put it right over her belly and on the screen was my baby. I gotta admit I was taken aback. The last time we got to see her, she was about 2.5 cm long. This time her head was 2 inches by itself. Can you imagine? That means she's about five or six inches long. At that moment, I wanted to hold her and pet her little head...literally. Then I remembered it's not a puppy. It's a little girl.

So, I looked back at my wife. She was so happy. And I was too, don't get me wrong. But, up until that moment my wife had put up with puking several times a day. She's constantly sick. And, to top it off, she has a difficult time eating anything I cook; of course, she's always had a tough time eating things I cook, but especially so when she's pregnant.

And as we sat there in that room looking at our baby move around, I knew that my wife believed it was all worth it. All the puking and sickness was worth it. And she reached out and grabbed my hand. Up until that point, I'd felt terrible everytime she'd get sick. Fortunately, right then I knew that she'd forgotten about it.

Thank You Ultrasound Tech Guy!

Up until now, there has been very few pivotal moments in my life: the first day of my first job, receiving my college acceptance letter, and my wedding day. I’m sure if I really thought about it, I could list a few more. But, the last few months have brought about many metamorphic changes (both physical and emotional), which culminated today when we had our 20 –week ultrasound…

Up until recently, aside from a plastic stick with a couple of blue lines and a shadowy picture of what could really be a large peanut that didn’t digest, the only exterior signs that I’m pregnant were my constant nausea and sleepiness—which were also my only internal signs. If it doesn’t sound like a terribly happy and exciting time, that’s simply because it wasn’t. In fact, it sucked (for lack of a better word). All of this physical misery comes with a super-sized side of guilt, because everyone knows that pregnant women “glow” and that it’s one of the happiest times of your life. Well, it’s hard to glow with one’s head in the toilet. All of this is to say that, despite taking my vitamins and beginning to shop for supplies out of what I can only describe as a feeling of obligation, I have not felt terribly bonded to my little peanut. After all, it’s hard to bond to something that you can’t feel or see and that makes you feel fluish.

…The walk through the parking lot and up the elevator was terrifying! Up until today, we’ve declined to hear the results of any test that might indicate a problem with our baby. But, there we were, minutes from seeing our baby on the big screen; steps away from inevitable information, whether good or bad. Although I have been changing shape slightly, I have not had nearly the weight gain nor size change that my pregnant coworkers have. Neither have I been certain of feeling the baby move (though I’ve been told the feeling of bubbles in my stomach is actually the baby moving). So, I’d contemplated the idea that something could be wrong. I held my breath as the jell was spread on my belly and the wand searched for the initial image. And there it was! Part by part the ultrasound tech worked his way through bones and organs, explaining what things were as he went. Much of it looked like grey and black blobs, but the profile and bones were very distinctly a baby. All parts appeared to be in their place and in working order, with a 99.9% chance of it being…a girl! We then got some pictures, one beautiful profile and one face shot that reminds me of Skeletor (I can say that because I’m the mom. You should only say sweet things if you see it.) Then, after I got to work, a colleague that I haven’t seen in a few months saw me in the hall and stopped with a look of pleasant shock. She is officially the first person to notice, without me telling first, my pregnant belly.
All in all, a fairly pivotal day; we got to see our healthy baby girl, I’m officially beginning to look pregnant, and I didn’t feel nauseous all day! I may not be glowing yet, but I definitely feel a bit of a sparkle coming on.

Curious George was Good...

But, here's the problem. There aren't many shows for kids that I would call, entertaining. Okay, don't get me wrong; I enjoy a good cartoon, same as the next man. But, come on. Is it, really, that difficult to make good cartoons, the likes of G.I. Joe and Ducktales?

On that subject, remember Ducktales? That was awesome. In fact, I remember they used to show reruns on The Disney Channel late at night; I used to flip back and forth between Jay Leno and Ducktales as often as possible. Oh, I get it. You don't like Ducktales? Well, I don't care. The truth is that Ducktales was the best show ever for teaching kids about history. It used to address all kinds of historical events...except the ducks could talk.

Anyways, back on topic. But, I was heartened recently when I turned on HBO and saw Curious George. It was everything a cartoon should be; it was cute and touching, while also dealing with deep issues of discrimination. After all, I am now aware of the difficulty of monkeys that live in the city and will, certainly, do my best to be more sensitive to them.

So, Curious George was great. And, for a brief time, my faith in modern cartoons began to be restored. That is, until I saw Happy Feet over the weekend, again on HBO. Now, I should disclose that I only made it through about 45 minutes of the film before I fell asleep. That alone should be proof, enough, that it was a bad movie; usually it's my wife that falls asleep during movies and I'm the one who makes it through. She, in fact, watched the entire thing, probably out of, what I must assume to be, sheer curiosity.

Indeed, based on what I saw of the movie, it was terribly boring and didn't make much sense. First, I didn't realize penguins are supposed to sing; I guess I thought they had better things to do like stay alive in the freezing cold. And, then there's this penguin that dances. Okay, that's cute and all, but come on. It makes no sense. What parent would not be happy to have a tap dancing penguin? I know I'd be excited if my child danced like Gregory Hines. Anyways, maybe it ended better than it started, but I can't imagine how.

The point of all this is to say that, I don't know what I'm going to do on the cartoon front. I just can't get excited about shows like the turtle show or Dora the Explorer. I mean, what happened to Looney Tunes even? I feel like everything I knew and loved is gone. Still, the truth is that I must start getting used to it, because I'm sure my child will want to watch Dora, and I'm going to have a tough time saying "No." Maybe I should get a G.I. Joe DVD and we can watch it together.

A Hard Day's Work

For the past four-and-a-half years I have been a star employee. I’ve consistently gotten my paperwork in on time. I’ve tried my best to stay current on the research in my field, I work well with the kids, and I get glowing reviews. Well…so much for that…

Pregnancy has turned me into a state employee at her mediocre-ist. Today, I was 20 minutes late. First, I got light headed and had to lie down for five minutes. Then, I puked up my Raisin Bran (oh, yah, I’m attempting to transition to healthy cereal), which then necessitated that I change my clothes (don’t ask) and brush my teeth again. By that point I was late and hungry because my stomach was empty. So, I decided to just give in to the lateness and go through the espresso stand drive through, too (attn: pregnancy police—espresso stands serve other things besides coffee). As substandard as my timeliness was today, last Thursday was downright reprehensible. Following is a chronological account of my day.

8:00 meeting at school 1 (It sounds like work, but I mostly just stared at my notebook)
9:00 drive to school 2
9:10 drive past school 2 and go to the coffee shop for a steamed milk and muffin
9:30 check work e-mail
10:00 eat muffin
10:15 check personal e-mail
10:30 take out manual for scoring a test and lay it out on my desk
10:31 play with wind-up toys on my desk
10:32 notice my favorite wind-up toy isn’t working
10:33 try to fix the wind-up toy
10:40 despair
10:45 recheck e-mail
10:50 leave for a home visit (okay, so that one is really part of my job)
12:00 return to school and have lunch
12:30 – 3:30 score and write up one test, eat again, stare at the wall, eat again, recheck e-mail, and go home

Now, this day was a little unusual as I didn’t have to see kids and there was no one else in my office, but as the old saying goes, “When the cat is away, the mice will check their e-mail and eat.”

There's a Baby in There...

I don't know about you, but I've had few times in my life where I've been completely amazed. One of the first times was when I was little [or maybe I should say "younger", since I'm still little] and my dad was working on the car. I was amazed that, if the car wasn't working, he could open the hood and fix it.

Perhaps the second time was in high school when I realized that the songs We are the Champions and We Will Rock You are, actually, two parts of the same song. I mean, who knew? Actually, I'm still amazed at that.

But, I don't think I've ever been as amazed as the last couple times wife and I have gone for her check-ups. I have to admit, the first time was somewhat uncomfortable for me. Now, I understand that she takes her clothes off lots of times when she goes to the doctor. But, I'm never there. This time, I'm sitting right there as the doctor asks her to remove her "bottoms". I know it's not a big deal, but I felt like leaving the room to give my wife some privacy; and yet she didn't want me to. Anyway, the doctor comes in and proceeds to cover this probe thing with a "protection" contraceptive and shove it into private places; obviously it was a little traumatic for me.

But, I quickly got over it when I looked at the monitor above my head and there, in grainy greyscale was the image of a small person. According to the equipment, it was only about 1.5 inches but it still a little person. Needless to say, I was amazed. Now don't get me wrong, I've learned about the birds and the bees and all that many times, but none of it was, actually, real to me until I looked at that image.

So, fast forward to last week. We had our second appointment. This time, I prepared myself for another traumatic experience. Of course, as one would expect, I did not need to this time. Instead, the woman rubbed some slimy stuff over my wife's stomach. Then she turned on a speaker and moved a microphone over my wife's stomach. And, after a few seconds of listening to what sounded like a wind tunnel, there it was. A little heartbeat coming out of my wife's stomach. Once again, I was amazed.

Surely even if my wife and I had not decided to go through this experience, I'm sure I'd have found other things in my life to be amazed about. To that end, I know lots of folks without kids and I'm sure they're very amazed at lots of stuff too. But, at this point, I feel very fortunate to be in the position I'm in now. If the last couple months are any indication, I think I'm going to continue to be amazed about lots of new things for some time to come.

The Man List

There is a list of subjects that a wife should avoid discussing with her husband if at all possible, unless it is to shower unending complements upon him. And, if the subject must be broached with any hint of critique, she should be ready for an argument to ensue. This list includes such things as BBQing, camp fire building, setting up of audio-visual equipment, and driving. As the first 3 rarely cause the need for hospitalization (at least for others involved), or the worry of untimely widowhood, it is the last of these subjects that is today’s focus.

My husband and I may bicker often, but we actually fight about very few things. The topic of driving, however, can take us from marital bliss to I must have been on crack when I said “I do” to you in 1.5 seconds. I’m admittedly a little flinchy due to self-diagnosed post traumatic stress disorder that I incurred during a spring break episode with a Honda Civic and a semi truck. If you had been awaken from your back-seat slumber while the car you were in was drifting under a semi, you might be flinchy, too. My husband is not admittedly a…well…somewhat aggressive driver. He likes to play this game (loads of fun) in which he sets the cruise control and refuses to break or change speeds no matter what the flow of traffic is doing or how many cars he has to get around. To get around these cars, he often must pull so close you can barely see their tires, then jets around them into a small pocket of space. To make the game more fun, he adds the challenge of talking on his cell phone while doing this, which is an amazing feet, as we drive a stick (1 hand on the phone + 1 to shift = 0 on the wheel). He curses at stop lights and has been known on many occasions to cut through parking lots to avoid red lights. Friends have hinted at this to him (too polite to just come out and say what they’re thinking) which is an indication that he perhaps does go a little overboard sometimes. For instance, once another male friend said, “you’re really hard to follow” when we were caravanning somewhere. Another male friend insists he gets “car sick” unless he himself is driving. I wish they would just come right out and tell him, because as a wife, he is programmed to either disregard my comments regarding driving or react as if I’ve challenged his very manhood. After a few years of dating and six years of marriage, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have one of four choices: have a heart attack, commit myself for anxiety, divorce, or close my eyes and go to my happy place (ahhh cruise ship pool). I lean back, close my eyes, and try to think of anything but driving. This would work if my nervous system didn’t register movement, however I still flinch when I feel a sudden break or lane change.

Now, all of this anxiety is multiplied by the fact that we’re soon to have a child. As children sponge everything from their environment from even before birth, I’m pretty sure our baby’s first words will be some combination of “damn lights” and f*@%!. Not to mention all that serotonin (a neurotransmitter highly responsible for anxiety) flowing through my body can’t possibly be good for little peanut. This problem is compounded by the fact that the only thing I hate worse than being a passenger in a car, is actually driving myself. If I knew where my baby’s ears were, I would put little earmuffs over my belly to block the sounds. I fear peanut, being a sensitive child, would still sense the anger and sheer hatefulness that his/her dad has for a preponderance of other drivers on the road, not to mention those spiteful lights.

All of my own anxiety and anger about my husbands driving style simmers deep down inside me, occasionally boiling to the top and thus, causing a spat. However, just when I’m ready to break down and drive myself, he offers a few glimmers of kindness and patience. We were making the 3 hour drive home, after visiting my family for the weekend, and I was quite obviously exhausted. Not long into the drive my deer husband asked, “What CD would help you to sleep,” thus implying, “you go ahead and take a nap honey, while I steer us safely home.” Now, due to the accident I mentioned earlier, I can’t really sleep in cars anymore. However, on this trip, I may have actually dozed off a few times. So, perhaps I’ll keep him around a little longer. Perhaps I’ll try to be less flinchy (it’s reflexive…honest). And, perhaps I’ll let others be the ones to address issues from the list…at least for a few days.

The Sophisticated Pregnant Chick...

That's what I'm going to call my wife from now on. Okay, I'd better back up and provide some context.

You see, my wife needs "maternity" clothes. And, being that we are way cool nowadays, we made our way over to J.C. Penney. Of course, it was in the middle of prom season or something going on at the local high schools, so there were many a young girl present seeking their flowing ceremonial garb. Nonetheless, I felt a little awkward walking around the store looking for dresses. I should highlight the word "dresses." I mean, does she really need more than one? Here's the issue: she only wears a dress about once a year. And, the entire pregnancy deal lasts 9 months, right? What's more, she's only going to be big for about half of it, right? That means she'll be big for about 4.5 months; that's about 1/3 of a year. Are you following? What are the odds she needs more than one dress? Very low. Of course, this reasoning does not matter. In the end, I was forced to continue following her around amongst the teens and their mothers. After all, she says, you can't have too many dresses. Hey, if that's true, perhaps I'll go buy one for myself too.

Anyways, from J.C. Penney, it was on to the "Motherhood" store, where they specialize in these maternity clothes. Now, is it just me, or are these, particular, clothes a lot cooler than they were when my mom was pregnant. Of course, this is the same generation that invented bell bottoms, so they may not be the ones to look back to for stylish duds. Still, taking that into account, it seems like the clothes are a lot cooler. I remember my mom spent most of her pregnancies in sweat pants and rain jackets. Of course, she was a stay-at-home mom, and perhaps she was not required to dress well, unlike many of the pregnant women nowadays who have to look presentable for work. But, whatever the reason, pregnant women are now fashionable.

Overall, shopping for maternity clothes was pretty fun. In fact, there is a little pad in the dressing room whereby the women can put it around her to visualize what she will look like when she gets bigger. Being the good husband I am, I put it around myself and rubbed my belly. One problem, though: there are no instructions, so I ended up looking more like I had a tumor than a child. I must admit, my wife looked much more natural manipulating the device.

So, the maternity clothes shopping day was a great success with my wife walking away with several shirts and a pair of pants. Notice something missing? That's right, she didn't end up getting a dress. After all that looking, there were none that she liked. So, I've concluded that her shopping habits do not change when she's pregnant.