All the Things

Nugget,

I know your daddy's been working on a follow up to his last post, but he's taking a long time, so I figured I'd interject with some slightly sappier, definitely not-as-funny but true thoughts. You have gotten seriously active in the past month or so, and its exciting and makes me giggle and sometimes a little startling. It's a reminder that there are all these things we still have to do and an increasingly short amount of time in which to do them. 

Birthing class: your daddy and I will sit all day in a class that talks about what to expect the day we finally get to meet you. I'm curious to see how long it takes until daddy gets that glazed look over his face because he hasn't quite embraced the reality of you. I mean, he is very excited and thrilled about your arrival, but I just don't think it's as real to him because he doesn't get to feel your constant presence like I do. I think he's actually a little jealous about that. I would be, anyway.

Stuff: Oh. My. God. All the stuff. Crib and stroller and things for you to sit in, and bounce in, and gates so when you're mobile, you don't fall down stairs and soft things for you to wear and to sleep on, and things to carry you in and wear you with, and cute things for you to be surrounded by when lying, sitting, sleeping, and things to stimulate you and fascinate you, and keep you from being upset during tummy time, and things that make feeding you easier, and to monitor you, so you're safe, and all the things to encourage you to be thinking, empathetic, healthy and strong. And some of that stuff will be gifted by sweet friends and family who will be generous and lovely, but some won't, and your daddy gets all crazy about the prices of things (that is definitely his job because it's not mine) even if it's something I think is super necessary and he doesn't get it. It's a LOT of stuff.

Your room: This is fun, and while I have a lot of it planned, I know that some of it will come together organically. I painted it the perfect color I had in my head (after daddy painted it a color I thought was the one in my head but it was actually a gross baby blue color once it was on the walls and I hated it). This will also require some stuff. Like curtains - specifically black out shades, because I want you to be able to sleep. I want us all to be able to sleep. And your closet is currently filled with a great many things that don't belong in there, like christmas stuff and an air mattress and random daddy memorabilia, and those horrible wire shelves that need to be replaced with actual useful shelves and rods on which to hang all your adorable soft things.

Also, there are currently men dismantling our porch so it can be rebuilt. A tree fell on it a little more than a month ago in a storm, and it's finally getting fixed. It should only take a couple of weeks (or so I'm told), so I'm really hoping that's true, and the threshold we carry you over in 3 months is solid and beautiful and not at all filled with holes or remnants of splintered wood.

There is more, but I'm already a little overwhelmed. Frankly, I know that even if we check off all the things that need to get done before your arrival, we still won't be ready. How could we be ready for a whole new universe? It's fine, we'll learn and work it out together, sweet boy. You'll have us and we'll have you, and really, that's enough.

People's Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm...and In Vitro Fertilization

Hey Nugget,

Strap in for a long one.

Lots and lots of things have to go right for you to come out ready to drop Blue Steel on everyone. It's a journey and we had a long, expensive one to get where we are today. Nobody knows that more than your mama. She's had to bear the brunt of the duties, carrying you around in her belly, getting wands shoved in what you'd typically prefer to be wand-free zones, countless needle sticks, and the fear that goes along with wondering if all the efforts are ever going to pay off. Or, worse, going through everything and having them not pay off, which has happened a couple times now.

We waited until we were married to try having you. Lots of people wait until they're married to have kids because that's what their religion tells them to do. We didn't have that problem because the Flying Spaghetti Monster just wants you to be a decent human being. Well, that and to eat a lot of pasta. No, ours was more of an Uncle Sam issue. Having a baby is expensive business and I wasn't about to pay out of pocket for $200 Advil or get surprised with an extra $2,000 because the anesthesiologist decided to bring a resident along without asking. We wanted to be insured to help with costs and access to quality health care, ultimately ensuring you'd come out poppin' and lockin' with the best of them. Which is also why I play Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo for you every night once your mama falls asleep. Sometimes I mix in classic clips of Rerun too.






But back to how you came to be...

We got married almost five years ago. We kicked off our efforts during the honeymoon. I won't go into details but maybe this American Medical Association graphic will help explain it.


I know that's a very scientific explanation but some day you'll understand.

So during that first month we got pregnant! It was very exciting. Especially since we waited so long to meet each other and get ourselves into position to start trying. There's this pesky little problem where it becomes harder to have children as you get older. We weren't getting any younger, buddy. It was go time.

As the first trimester comes to a close you can begin telling family and friends with more confidence because the statistics will tell you that your risk for miscarriage drops considerably. Well, during the 11th week we had some concerns that something wasn't right. With a couple trips booked for the coming weeks we decided it was best to lay our concerns to rest with a visit to the doctor. In heartbreaking fashion, because we felt like we were only a week away from locking in that baby, we found out the baby stopped growing around 6 weeks. We just didn't see the symptoms until week 11.

There's nothing that can prepare you for that kind of news. It's a special kind of devastation.

In the coming days, weeks, and months, we learned that maybe there were fibroids causing the problem. That would suck to find out, but in a way it could have given us something to hold on to as a reason for the miscarry. Meaning, next time we'd be fine because we could remove them. Ultimately they proved to be harmless and we left with no reason for our bad pregnancy luck.

After the proper recovery time we were ready to give it another go. In fact, with how quickly we got pregnant the first time we thought for sure it'd be easy.

Then I was laid off work.

A year later I was still looking and we'd cashed out everything we had to stay afloat. Family and friends came to the rescue at necessary times and we just couldn't even think about trying to get pregnant without insurance or income.

Enter your dad's new job and a brand spanking new insurance plan some 16 months after the layoff and 20 months since the miscarry. It was time to start mashing privates with a purpose (OB/GYN term) again. We were confident it would happen quickly.

Over the next 8 months we carefully watched the calendar, trying our best to get our grind on at all the appropriate times. Maximizing our chances for conception was the name of the game and boy did we play alllll the positions. Ughhhhhh.

Sorry, Nugget. Got a little off track there. Where was I?

Oh yeah...

Here are some things that we tried:

• Hoisting legs up in the air. As if gravity was our only problem. GET. DOWN. THERE. YOU. STUPID. SPERMS!
• Pillow under the butt. Another gravity-based adjustment to our typical efforts that did nothing more than look dumb.
• Special Positions. You know, because of the angle of the dangle (common anatomy phrase).
• Lik-m-Stiks. Supposedly you can lick a small lipstick-like tube and then hold it up to your eye, like a jeweler inspecting a diamond, revealing a certain type of go-time crystallization that means start Marvin Gaye on repeat and get to work.
• iPhone apps. Those are basically just calculators for math you can do in your head.
• Yelling at the belly. This was my idea. "You WILL become a baby! I WON'T SAY IT AGAIN MEOW YOU BECOME A GODDAMN BABY!" 
• Acupuncture. In hindsight we should have gone to a professional because I only had small nails available and zero idea where they were supposed to go. 
• Post-Coital Jazzercise. Get up and groove that sperm into the egg! Ultimately we didn't give this one as much of a chance because you want to perform Jazzercise in a leotard, arm bands, and whatnot, but typically you want to perform sex without all those things. Unless you're Jazzercise role-playing, which got old for us a year into our relationship. Too much back and forth into and out of leotards to sustain this method properly.
• Buttsex. They say the closest distance between two points is a straight line and I thought maybe it would provide a clearer shot at our objective. Turns out doctors claim this is impossible. Jenny McCarthy and I disagree, but we moved on to other methods nonetheless.
• Praying. We didn't do this personally but mama's mama made sure to pray for us. I'm sure many others did too. This is a delicate subject because it clearly does not work but many people believe in it. If praying worked we'd all be rich, married to models, living forever, and nobody but those dirty Swedes would ever have a rough go in life ever again.

After none of this worked for eight months we magically found ourselves pregnant again! Buttsex? COULD BE! But we were happy regardless of the method that somehow worked.

Until six weeks later we were back in the ER and pretty much knew we had a problem again. It was confirmed with a blood test that saw hormone levels were going the wrong direction and we again found ourselves on the receiving end of life's cruel backhand.

It was after this attempt that we brought in the big guns. No, not that big gun. I'd been bringing that from the get go. I'm referring to the fertility experts in our area. We sought out the biggest and baddest fertility doctor in our town and I punched him in the face to exert my dominance and show I wasn't a punk. Didn't realize this wasn't applicable outside of a prison and had to apologize profusely before he offered to take us in for a consult.

But that's all for another post. As always, a bit of advice before I go:

Don't go chasing waterfalls. Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to.

~ Your dad

Funny Eggplant

You're now 24 weeks and the size of an eggplant! That's pretty big, so it feels ok that my belly is so big and round. Eh, who am I kidding? I love my bump. It's the most fascinating thing I've ever experienced. I feel like after you're born, I may actually miss this time, when you're nestled in there. Perhaps I will be too busy with you to consider these things.

We're in Asheville, and your daddy has some work stuff to do for another hour, but then we get to just hang out and walk around with Kaya and eat yummy food. Food is super important in our family. You'll learn pretty quickly that a lot of our plans revolve around where the best place to eat will be. Get ready, baby taste buds (Which are developing right now, according to my many pregnancy apps)! You will not be subsisting on nuggets or hot dogs. Anyway...Asheville.

 This is where daddy asked me to marry him and we were planning your big exciting life from the very start. In fact, his ability to be awesome with kids and the way we agree on how to do all sorts of parental things was a big factor in loving him so much. You'll find out soon enough, but your dad is kind of amazing. I guarantee he will make you laugh more than anyone else you'll meet for at least a few years. Once your social circle grows, maybe you'll meet someone else hilarious who won't also have to sometimes tell you to stop shoving things in your mouth/ears/eyeballs, so you'll appreciate them more. Until then, he will be your go-to comedy source. Which is fair, because I'm pretty sure you will remain our main source of comedy for many years to come. Keep growing, sweet boy!

~mama

Fancy Foot Work

The past week has been really exciting. We were at the beach with your aunt and cousins and you really started moving! I think you love the ocean like mommy does, you were super active when we were sitting and listening to the surf crashing on the sand. You've actually been moving around for quite a while now, but you're hanging out in a spot that's been making it a little more difficult to feel...until now. Now, it's game on. I'm loving all the bumps and kicks. You've also had the hiccups a couple times, which just makes me giggle.

All of this ninja training you've been doing in there is pretty amazing, and I know as you get bigger and stronger, it's going to get more intense. Just try to keep the rib kicking to a minimum, ok, nugget? I'm sure daddy will be thrilled if you get his mad soccer skills, but we can work on that when you're on the outside. There are no soccer goals to be had in there. I'll give you some goals to work for, though. Be big (but under 10 lbs. please), be strong, be healthy. Be a good eater and sleeper. Be the very best things your daddy and I can pass on to you. Be compassionate and kind. No matter who you wind up being, you already are the baby I've been waiting for my whole life, and you will be loved. Unconditionally.

~mama

They Come In Waves

Hey Nugget,

Another post?

Yes, sometimes they come in waves.

See how I did that? Tied in the title that fast? It's one of the many things your old man is good at. Some of the others are tricking 3yr old children into thinking I've pulled my thumb apart, judging people based on their names, pretending I'm still fast, having bad luck, the robot, adding an "Electric Boogaloo" to the end of any movie sequel with a 2 in the title, hip thrusting, avoiding Tyler Perry movies, leaving sick burns in facebook comments, and creating absurd lists of things I'm good at.

But really what I wanted to talk about is how it's probably time you start thinking about how you'll make your mark on this world. Will you blaze a new trail, making the world a better place? Or will you disappoint your parents and some day become a Jeff Foxworthy fan? It's important to consider and I have some thoughts on the matter.

You're too late to the Earth party to get lucky in real estate. There's nothing good left at this point and nobody in your family is sitting on more than a half acre of land that's mortgaged out the butthole (real estate calculation).

Want to be a juice mogul? Well guess what? The cranberry rep has already raped that village dry (industry phrase) and cranberry is in every juice now. Are you going to find a brand new fruit to juice? In 2016? I don't think so. Acai? Baby please. That's just a foreign blueberry and NObama would have you believe it's here legally when we all know it's a gay terrorist fruit brought here for no other reason than to destroy our core values and way of life. Hashtag Not Hashtag In Hashtag My Hashtag America. #NailedIt

We hope that you'll be athletic. Hell, we anticipate that you'll be athletic. Your mom was a great gymnast and is currently a fantastic stretcher (official yoga ranking) while your dad is literally the best at everything. Don't fact check me, I'm your dad. But please don't get too attached to stupid sports that won't pay you generously should you go pro. I'll buy you badminton paddles and the required child molester shorts they wear, but I wont' like it and neither will the ladies in your life.

That being said, don't think all hope is lost. It's 2016 and pool companies still advertise pools by propping up examples on the side of rural highways. There's a chance, you just have to think it through.

So what about becoming the next big sign mogul?

Currently there's a phenomenon occurring where one type of sign design has taken over certain segments of society.

Have a church?

BOOM! Church sign!

New apartments are finally leasing?

BOOM! Now Leasing Sign!

I mean, get a load of this sign design!!!!

They're everywhere. Get in on the ground floor. (Of the sign business, not the church. Elevation is a racket.)

OK, it's time I leave you to serious business (TWO NOSTRILS) and give you some advice before I go.

When life gives you lemons I would seriously vet those lemons before using them for anything. It's a weird thing to be given for free, lemons, especially out of the blue. Better to slap the lemons out of life's hands, kick life in the nuts, and run away just in case. Zig and zag should there be bullets fired.

~ Your Dad

Preparations

Hey Nugget,

Sorry I haven't checked in for a few days but I've been busy preparing the house for your arrival. We ordered special paint for the walls in your room. It won't be bad for you or your mom to breathe in because during its production they had a team of trancendental meditators send positive thought mantras into the mixture. We have plenty of other things, either picked out or narrowed down for selection, that will complement your existence once you go all Ferris Bueller and breach the fourth vaginal wall (Hat tip: Joe Speaker for that line which is a reworking of one I hesitated to use and, quite frankly, isn't as good. Enjoy the Almost Parent bump, Speaker. Could be tens of people!).

I even got down on my belly and crawled around looking for danger and didn't for one second pretend I was a sniper. Me carrying a broom stick and making "PEW PEW" sounds was a total coincidence. I've bolted everything to the wall and thrown away all of the dangerous vegetables we had in the refrigerator just in case. In case of what, you ask? How about you just pipe down and worry about growing those two nostrils. You hear me, buddy? TWO. NOSTRILS. Very important.

I also have plans to smoke some meat this weekend. But that doesn't really do anything for you beyond make your dad happier. A happy dad is a better dad and even though I don't have to dad too hard right now it's important to get in the right frame of mind. I ate yogurt, berries, and granola for breakfast all week so that I lose a few lbs and won't get winded during my sleepstyle freestyles. 

We picked out an Australian doula to help keep your mom comfortable and calm during your arrival. She comes with the added (assumed) benefit of knowing how to handle herself around crocodiles. That shouldn't come into play but one can never be too sure. Plus it's fun to listen to an Aussie say "no" so I'll be making her do that as much as possible.

There will be plenty of reading up on things as we get closer to your due date.  I need to know how to bathe you without screwing up. How to best swaddle you. How long I can swear in front of you before worrying your first word will be "horseshit". I need to know how to properly brainwash you into loving everything I love while making it seem to your mother that I'm being fair and balanced. You know, the basics.

Well, I have to go work. But as always, a bit of advice:

The later you get to class, the earlier you get to leave.

~ Your Dad

Names

Hey Nugget,

Were you curious about why we call you Nugget right now? Wondering why out of all the NBA teams we settled upon Nugget instead of Piston or Laker? It was weird, but every time we settled upon a name Dikembe Mutombo would show up and swat it out of the way before giving us his famous finger waggle. You can't argue with Mutombo. You can sex Mutombo (Safe for work), but you can't argue with him. You won't be named something dumb. Not in my house.



You have to be very careful with names. People tend to resemble the names they're given. Just look at this all-star list of lacrosse names and see if you can keep your douchebag meter from pinging so hard you'll only hear one long tone.

There are ebbs and flows to names, and I don't mean "flows" like the amazing sleepstyle freestyle "flows" that I'll be dropping on your crying ass like hot fire in the middle of the night come December. No, I mean there are ups and downs to name popularity. Many parents get trigger happy with a popular name in the same year and next thing you know their little Morgan has four classmates with the same name. (Don't worry, parents of a Morgan. In this example the other Morgans are all uglier and dumber than your Morgan.)

They may be good names but they become flashes in the pan very quickly.

It can happen in just about any facet of life. One minute the creators of Jazzercise are on top of the world, making bank every time you slip on some tights and bounce around to Yakety Sax. The next minute they're cry-squatting to Chick Corea in one of the few remaining Jazzercise locations. Hell, I bet at this very moment the "Name a Cloud After Someone" guys are using their last $5 for a hot'n'ready pizza and trying desperately to figure out how else they can leverage clouds.

What I'm saying is you have to be strategic.

Some names should have been blocked at the hospital because they simply aren't names.

"No, you can't add an apostrophe to your child's name. No, if you can't add one why do you think we would allow you to add two?"

"That's just four names mashed together. No." 

"How will anyone ever get the name Lisa out of Lhxiah? Your child would be relentlessly mocked. No."

We're likely a few short months away form the first baby girl named after the eggplant emoticon. It's gotta stop. Not just because the eggplant is widely used as a penis emoticon but because names are important and they stick with you. You want the Jason Bourne of names, not the Remo Williams.

Which is why we tried very hard to think of something for you that could be a little bit unique but fall short of being ridiculous, resulting in death by a million high school nut punches. It wasn't easy and in the short term your awesome mama took to calling you Nugget. We'll whisper your future name to you when nobody is around but in every other situation you'll be called Nugget until you are coaxed out of the womb during your Portuguese water slide birth by our certified scuba doula.

As always, a bit of advice:

A nut-punch is a great way to make fun of someone with a dumb name.

~ Your Dad