They say the difference between a good friend and great friend is that a GOOD friend will try talking you out of doing something dumb before you spiral into regret. Where as a GREAT friend will tell you how pissed they are at you from the neighboring jail cell.
I'm just saying to the few of you that are my great friends... you need a body hid, I am your man.
Remember though, I scratch your back... etc. - J
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Small Blog w/Daddy Day Thoughts
Today, while grilling dinner for my wife, I took a small trip from Mexico to Germany with a brief stop in Jamaica. All the while in the company of a tightly wound Honduran friend... in the form of a cigar contributed by the late Mike Foss before his untimely demise at the paws of the Murph.
The trip was made possible by a mix of beers (Dos Equis, Red Stripe, and St. Pauli Girl) from around the world gifted by my fantastically awesome wife… she is basically my raven haired version of Mary Jane.
And though I am not sure what the exact ratio needed. The smooth blend of booze, BBQ, and stogies almost always come together in one rich, layered concoction that make a man’s tiny mind run rampant with reflective thought.
It’s man science. You can look it up
As far as what thoughts… that is another blog. This one is called “Small Blog…” after all.
Duh – J
PS, Happy Father's Day to those deserving of such a title.
The trip was made possible by a mix of beers (Dos Equis, Red Stripe, and St. Pauli Girl) from around the world gifted by my fantastically awesome wife… she is basically my raven haired version of Mary Jane.
And though I am not sure what the exact ratio needed. The smooth blend of booze, BBQ, and stogies almost always come together in one rich, layered concoction that make a man’s tiny mind run rampant with reflective thought.
It’s man science. You can look it up
As far as what thoughts… that is another blog. This one is called “Small Blog…” after all.
Duh – J
PS, Happy Father's Day to those deserving of such a title.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
"Exaggeration, the inseparable companion of greatness."
Voltaire said that.
My daughter is awesome.
I am fairly certain that How Pow said that.
Although his exact wording may have been different. Thus the lack of confidence in adding quotation marks. And maybe I am just being a proud daddy, but with all due respect to the Baby Pow… MY daughter is the most awesome-est.
Now that my come across as a bit asshole-ish. But I am sure if polled, almost every dad with a new baby girl would give you roughly the same answer. As well we should.
As guys we also like to think our daughters (and sons I’m sure) can do things far better and far before any other kid. Maybe we are love blind. Or maybe this is what it takes to knock us off of our logic thinking pedestal and into the realm of emotional based assessments.
Take for instance that Hayden, right out of the womb, can raise her head up and look around. Her neck seemingly is close to being fully operational (I’m thinking a Death Star joke should have been used here). Last night Melissa placed her pacifier in her hand and I s#@t you not, she raised it to her mouth and put it in. We tried to immediately duplicate this last miracle, but clubbing herself in the nose was the closest outcome. Just last week I spent hours on hold with DirectTV trying to get my remote reprogrammed with the receiver. If I would have just waited a few days, Hayden could have done it for me.
Hand to god, she is that smart.
Now having said all that… my kid is not yet a rocket surgeon. She's more like a grad student. There's some room to grow after all. Regardless, she is pretty damn cool. And so far this dad thing s kind of a hip gig.
A fellow blogger (one I’ve credited more than once) told me yesterday that he likes my kids influence on the blog. He said it was nice to see that I can write with a softer tone. He was glad to see we (as a friendly collective) can do more than penis and fart jokes. Maybe that is true. But like I told my wife, we’ll see where the jokes go after a few weeks. After all, the new dad sheen still has a bright glow.
Wait till her poop really starts to stink. See what comes out of those blogs.
But for now, I have to jet... Hayden is practicing her summersaults – J
My daughter is awesome.
I am fairly certain that How Pow said that.
Although his exact wording may have been different. Thus the lack of confidence in adding quotation marks. And maybe I am just being a proud daddy, but with all due respect to the Baby Pow… MY daughter is the most awesome-est.
Now that my come across as a bit asshole-ish. But I am sure if polled, almost every dad with a new baby girl would give you roughly the same answer. As well we should.
As guys we also like to think our daughters (and sons I’m sure) can do things far better and far before any other kid. Maybe we are love blind. Or maybe this is what it takes to knock us off of our logic thinking pedestal and into the realm of emotional based assessments.
Take for instance that Hayden, right out of the womb, can raise her head up and look around. Her neck seemingly is close to being fully operational (I’m thinking a Death Star joke should have been used here). Last night Melissa placed her pacifier in her hand and I s#@t you not, she raised it to her mouth and put it in. We tried to immediately duplicate this last miracle, but clubbing herself in the nose was the closest outcome. Just last week I spent hours on hold with DirectTV trying to get my remote reprogrammed with the receiver. If I would have just waited a few days, Hayden could have done it for me.
Hand to god, she is that smart.
Now having said all that… my kid is not yet a rocket surgeon. She's more like a grad student. There's some room to grow after all. Regardless, she is pretty damn cool. And so far this dad thing s kind of a hip gig.
A fellow blogger (one I’ve credited more than once) told me yesterday that he likes my kids influence on the blog. He said it was nice to see that I can write with a softer tone. He was glad to see we (as a friendly collective) can do more than penis and fart jokes. Maybe that is true. But like I told my wife, we’ll see where the jokes go after a few weeks. After all, the new dad sheen still has a bright glow.
Wait till her poop really starts to stink. See what comes out of those blogs.
But for now, I have to jet... Hayden is practicing her summersaults – J
Monday, June 14, 2010
From Blast Off to the Gangs All Here: Countdown part 2.
I last left you with the prodigal daughter returning to the room… and a sign off by me. Let’s start with skipping ahead to the 12 o’clock hour.
12:00 p.m. – The nurse informs us that she has paged Melissa’s doctor. I equate this to the placing of presents under the Christmas tree a month before the holiday. Just mean.
12:45 p.m. – My patience is wearing thin. At this point if patience was a shirt, it’d be transparent in parts. And my wife would beg… nay… threaten to throw it away.
1:04 p.m. – The doctor is in! He shoots holes in my previously stated theory of making Melissa an indentured servant. She is released, looks like we’ll be returning home in full force.
1:28 p.m. – I failed to mention that on this day we have a mutated two headed nurse that acts as nurse to both Melissa and Hayden instead of having one exclusive to each of them. One head is dressed in the colors of Ronald McDonald and appears to acquiesce to the knowledge of the other head, which is wearing blue… obviously the color of choice for positions of authority since the heroic Rachel wore the same color. Oh, and they said that the patient transporter would be up in fifteen minutes with a wheel chair and a cart. Hopefully they’ll allow Melissa the comfort of the wheel chair.
1:45 p.m. – Both heads lied.
1:50 p.m. – Despite all my meditation, anger has taken control of me and I change into a rampaging monster and destroy much of the 7th floor. Good thing for me Rachel was off this day. And still no transporter.
2:10 p.m. – Sorting through the ruble of the 7th floor I find a nurse and inform her that we’ve been waiting for our transporter for 45 minutes. I am off by three minutes.
2:17 p.m. – The transporter arrives looking nothing at all like Jason Statham. In fact he is more of a socially awkward Asian guy. Could be undercover Triad, I will keep an eye on him.
2:26 p.m. – Turns out he was just kind of a goober. Nice guy, but a goober. I get the truck and drive at a break neck pace so as to get the good parking spot at the door.
2:27 p.m. – Mission accomplished! Porn star parking!
2:34 p.m. – I get on the highway driving about ten miles an hour slower than my normal five over the speed limit. Best not take chances.
3:01 p.m. – I drop the family off at home, let out the Murph, and head to Walgreens to purchase women products. Somehow in my thirty-two plus years of living I have managed to never do this for anyone. Thankfully I was humble enough to enlist the help of a pharmacy tech. She navigates me out of the adult diaper aisle and into the correct area. Good thing, I was beginning to think feminine products were encrypted; turns out I am just an idiot.
3:20 p.m. – Although not as bad as one might think, the hospital food was too much by this day. So we stepped up our cuisine with some Taco Bell.
3:30 p.m. – One more swing by Walgreens to pick up legal drugs for Melissa and back home to eat and rest.
4:36 p.m. – The grandparents bring the Kalenator home! Our family is complete again.
From 4:37 p.m. to 7:08 p.m. not much occurred. The family stayed for a short time and we settled into our role as a two rug rat family. And then…
7:09 p.m. – The Long brothers arrive to meet baby Hayden and socialize for a bit.
8:11 p.m. – The Longs left. Kalen and I make a quick run to Sonic for some late dinner and slushies.
8:52 p.m. – We quickly straighten the house up and place baby care products in every room as needed. Big sis retires to her room and the wife and I watch the season premier of True Blood. All is right in the world.
10:23 p.m. – True Blood ends for us; we collect ourselves and head to bed for a long and peaceful night's rest. The weekend has officially run its course.
11:02 p.m. – Restful night my ass. I almost couldn’t even type that sentence.
I am sure you can surmise what took place from the hours of 11:03 p.m. to this morning when I awoke, made coffee, and began typing this blog... lots and lots of up and down throughout the night. But hey, this is what we signed up for. You have to go through some of this crazy to get to all the great. And at the end of the first weekend, I already see the worth. She is great and having my group of girls in my life is better than anything I could have planned for myself. I am dad, and I can’t think of any “promotion” I’ve ever received in life that comes close to that one.
Super Rachel tells me that she read part one of this blog and liked it enough to post it at work. So to wrap this long winded blog up I want to say thank you to all of the staff at St. John's Mercy. My wife’s frantic hour and a half was nowhere near the nightmare it could have been. And thank you to Rachel. Hyperbole aside, you and John have become a pair of our closest friends in a very short period of time and your presence in the room was something that we couldn’t have done without. You somehow remarkably balanced being a best friend and the most gifted of professionals. It can’t be easy to wear those two hats at once, but you pulled it off and we will love you forever for it.
And…
A huge thank you to my wife for not once, but now twice making me the luckiest man on the planet. You’ve taken me from single man to husband, and now father of two without so much as a hiccup. And watching you do what you did Friday made me think of my mom. I mean this with all my heart when I say that you are every bit as tough as she was. I can’t think of a better compliment I could give another woman. She would have loved to see you do that and see her little granddaughter.
I promise to not fumble this gift you’ve given me.
And finally…
To the rest of you, thanks for the well wishes and support.
Now leave us alone already. We're exhausted - J
12:00 p.m. – The nurse informs us that she has paged Melissa’s doctor. I equate this to the placing of presents under the Christmas tree a month before the holiday. Just mean.
12:45 p.m. – My patience is wearing thin. At this point if patience was a shirt, it’d be transparent in parts. And my wife would beg… nay… threaten to throw it away.
1:04 p.m. – The doctor is in! He shoots holes in my previously stated theory of making Melissa an indentured servant. She is released, looks like we’ll be returning home in full force.
1:28 p.m. – I failed to mention that on this day we have a mutated two headed nurse that acts as nurse to both Melissa and Hayden instead of having one exclusive to each of them. One head is dressed in the colors of Ronald McDonald and appears to acquiesce to the knowledge of the other head, which is wearing blue… obviously the color of choice for positions of authority since the heroic Rachel wore the same color. Oh, and they said that the patient transporter would be up in fifteen minutes with a wheel chair and a cart. Hopefully they’ll allow Melissa the comfort of the wheel chair.
1:45 p.m. – Both heads lied.
1:50 p.m. – Despite all my meditation, anger has taken control of me and I change into a rampaging monster and destroy much of the 7th floor. Good thing for me Rachel was off this day. And still no transporter.
2:10 p.m. – Sorting through the ruble of the 7th floor I find a nurse and inform her that we’ve been waiting for our transporter for 45 minutes. I am off by three minutes.
2:17 p.m. – The transporter arrives looking nothing at all like Jason Statham. In fact he is more of a socially awkward Asian guy. Could be undercover Triad, I will keep an eye on him.
2:26 p.m. – Turns out he was just kind of a goober. Nice guy, but a goober. I get the truck and drive at a break neck pace so as to get the good parking spot at the door.
2:27 p.m. – Mission accomplished! Porn star parking!
2:34 p.m. – I get on the highway driving about ten miles an hour slower than my normal five over the speed limit. Best not take chances.
3:01 p.m. – I drop the family off at home, let out the Murph, and head to Walgreens to purchase women products. Somehow in my thirty-two plus years of living I have managed to never do this for anyone. Thankfully I was humble enough to enlist the help of a pharmacy tech. She navigates me out of the adult diaper aisle and into the correct area. Good thing, I was beginning to think feminine products were encrypted; turns out I am just an idiot.
3:20 p.m. – Although not as bad as one might think, the hospital food was too much by this day. So we stepped up our cuisine with some Taco Bell.
3:30 p.m. – One more swing by Walgreens to pick up legal drugs for Melissa and back home to eat and rest.
4:36 p.m. – The grandparents bring the Kalenator home! Our family is complete again.
From 4:37 p.m. to 7:08 p.m. not much occurred. The family stayed for a short time and we settled into our role as a two rug rat family. And then…
7:09 p.m. – The Long brothers arrive to meet baby Hayden and socialize for a bit.
8:11 p.m. – The Longs left. Kalen and I make a quick run to Sonic for some late dinner and slushies.
8:52 p.m. – We quickly straighten the house up and place baby care products in every room as needed. Big sis retires to her room and the wife and I watch the season premier of True Blood. All is right in the world.
10:23 p.m. – True Blood ends for us; we collect ourselves and head to bed for a long and peaceful night's rest. The weekend has officially run its course.
11:02 p.m. – Restful night my ass. I almost couldn’t even type that sentence.
I am sure you can surmise what took place from the hours of 11:03 p.m. to this morning when I awoke, made coffee, and began typing this blog... lots and lots of up and down throughout the night. But hey, this is what we signed up for. You have to go through some of this crazy to get to all the great. And at the end of the first weekend, I already see the worth. She is great and having my group of girls in my life is better than anything I could have planned for myself. I am dad, and I can’t think of any “promotion” I’ve ever received in life that comes close to that one.
Super Rachel tells me that she read part one of this blog and liked it enough to post it at work. So to wrap this long winded blog up I want to say thank you to all of the staff at St. John's Mercy. My wife’s frantic hour and a half was nowhere near the nightmare it could have been. And thank you to Rachel. Hyperbole aside, you and John have become a pair of our closest friends in a very short period of time and your presence in the room was something that we couldn’t have done without. You somehow remarkably balanced being a best friend and the most gifted of professionals. It can’t be easy to wear those two hats at once, but you pulled it off and we will love you forever for it.
And…
A huge thank you to my wife for not once, but now twice making me the luckiest man on the planet. You’ve taken me from single man to husband, and now father of two without so much as a hiccup. And watching you do what you did Friday made me think of my mom. I mean this with all my heart when I say that you are every bit as tough as she was. I can’t think of a better compliment I could give another woman. She would have loved to see you do that and see her little granddaughter.
I promise to not fumble this gift you’ve given me.
And finally…
To the rest of you, thanks for the well wishes and support.
Now leave us alone already. We're exhausted - J
Sunday, June 13, 2010
“It’s the Final Countdown… Ohh ho ohh” part 1.
First off, yes that was a Europe reference up there… and yeah Europe!
Second… I must warn you, in this blog I may ignore appealing to delicate sensibilities of the masses. My younger readers outside of the industry standard target demographic of 18 to 35 may want to try and read some words with an audible bleep noise as to not offend their impressionable minds.
And finally before I begin, who would have thought that anyone would ever read a sentence like the one that kicked off this blog. But it perfectly captured what transpired this past Friday. The only problem with our countdown, Hayden forgot to mention to us that she was ready for blast off.
But!
Regardless of her failure to adhere to any form of an itinerary, we came through with flying colors. Stars and stripes even. And since taking my word for it defeats any purpose of writing today’s blog, I shall take you through the weekend’s events as best as my skewed memory will allow.
Friday June 11th: Roughly 2:30 p.m. – Melissa and I decide to leave the house and try to salvage some shred of productivity and accomplishment for the day. Our attack plan includes a stop at Target for impulse shopping and Wal-Mart for paint and supplies.
4:30 p.m. – Both stops went off without a hitch. But at this point hunger has begun to creep into our lives. A quick congress of our household has determined that Mexican food is our best chance to fend off such an adversary.
5:10 p.m. – We arrive at La Salsa. The main thing you should gather from this point is that it would behoove you to try the mango salsa. It is “shit” worthy. As in, “this mango salsa is the shit.”
6:00 p.m. – Food was great, now we decide to stall our evening by stopping at Borders for some casual window shopping. I find many things I want, Melissa echoes this sentiment.
7:30 p.m. – We return home to an expected evening of collectively sitting firmly on our asses and doing nothing.
7:38 p.m. – I run to the store to indulge my wife’s impulse craving for chocolate. And pick up some Chips Ahoy for myself. I love Chips Ahoy.
8:58 p.m. – It is almost time for Real Time with Bill Maher. I arrange myself in a position to maximize my comfort and perform relaxing foot rubs on my over taxed wife without detracting from my ideal viewing angle.
9:05 p.m. – The first vocal contraction hits.
9:22 p.m. – After four more intense contraction, we decide to use our direct line to a labor and delivery nurse (thank you Rachel) and see what she suggests. Coming to the hospital was here instructions. Seems like a smart plan.
9:28 p.m. – The truck is packed and we are heading to the hospital.
9:39 p.m. – I miss the first exit to the hospital and begin to release some profane language. All the while Melissa keeps focused by repeating the mantra, “The epidural is my friend.”
9:46 p.m. – Not deterred by the slight detour, we arrive and take “blue to two” where we check in and Melissa uses a “6 or 7” as to describe the intensity of her current pain level.
9:46 and a half p.m. – She changes her answer to “10!”
9:49 p.m. – Check in is over and we are wheeled to a prep room where Melissa is to change into the traditional unfinished gown of the hospital. Not half way through the disrobing of the daily clothes she firmly instructs me to get a nurse because she wants to push right away.
9:50 p.m. – Total fucking chaos.
You’ll now have to excuse me, but apparently from 9:51 p.m. to roughly 10:28 p.m. time managed to somehow slip itself into some cosmic vortex were the surreal kung fu kicked the shit out of the real and then bombarded me with a series of quick mental images containing bright traces of crimson and loud protest of intense pain. At this point the doctors informed us that the friendly epidural will not be joining us tonight in some sort of protest of our not sticking to the mutually accepted course of action.
10:29 p.m. – The real reasserts itself in the continuum by violently punching the surreal in the throat when it was distracted by the Klingon shaped “crown” that added itself to the equation.
10:32 p.m. – Rachel’s previously unmentioned presence in the room has paid it’s next dividend by instructing Melissa to bear down and give one last good old college try push.
10:33 p.m. – Baby Hayden introduces herself to us with what would be a very annoying series of screams were she someone else’s newborn. Instead, she might as well been channeling Maria Callas because it was breathtakingly beautiful.
Saturday June 12th 2:39 a.m. – After me cutting the cord, the docs and nurses tending to the wife, seeing to the health of Hayden, visiting with some friends and eventually changing to our extended stay room; the three of us settled down for the night. Missy in her hospital bed, Hayden in a plastic box mounted on a wooden cart with wheels, and me on a couch that fit as snug as a coffin (I don’t know this for certain, but I would guess a coffin is way more comfortable).
3:45 a.m. 4:58 a.m. and again at 6:30 a.m. – Hayden woke up, cried, we soothed, and repeated.
For the times between 6:45 a.m. and 1:10 p.m. we did our own thing with the occasional dropping in of a nurse or two.
1:21 p.m. – Our first official visitor came bearing gifts. And then was threatened to have her kids removed from the waiting room when impatience took a hold of her 4 year old the Lilly-Bug. Things were resolved, her two boys and finished watching USA play to a tie after rallying behind a Buckner-esque play by England’s goalie. D’oh! Now I am off to release the hound… or take care of the Murph. He’s no doubt went stir crazy and I fear for the safety of the house.
2:18 p.m. – I have returned to the hospital with Mike Foss in tote. He has agreed to Murph-sit for the evening. Fifty minutes from now he will leave, this will be the last time anyone has ever heard from Mike Foss again.
2:30 p.m. – Family visit time, or Kalen meets her lil' sis for the first time! We finally have some family come and see us. Me ‘maw and pa ’paw showed up with Aunt Kay-Kay and the Kalenator. Hayden was passed around like a baton in a relay race.
3:10 p.m. – Baby to boob time. So we all leave the room. In the waiting room Uncle Chris appears with a side of Korah Beans.
3:40 p.m. – The two sisters appear to have hit it off… I suspect sibling rivalry to develop in the very near future.
4:48 p.m. – As quickly as they descended upon us, the family files out into the hall and out the doors. We are left with a small bit of quiet time before dinner.
5:20 p.m. – The Benders show up with Bread Co. and a plaque officially labeling Hayden by name in hand. Rachel has now accomplished a third and fourth labor for us. She is becoming much like Hercules in this respect.
6:30 p.m. – The Benders have now left. Rachel to work here at the hospital and John to no doubt go and perform some sort of tribute for being bestowed such a legendary and heroic fiancé.
The rest of this night was filled with short one hour bursts of sleep and occasional visits from nurses, both for Hayden and Melissa. If I had label an official start to this third day I would say it was around at 6:02 a.m. when I awoke seeking coffee.
Sunday June 13th 6:12 a.m. - Coffee was found.
6:15 a.m. - A brief encounter with Rachel in the cafeteria lead to no labor accomplished. After all, heroes get to take a morning off.
7:02 a.m. – Breakfast was ate by Hayden and then by us. Slowly, preparations are being made for our exit.
7:15 a.m. – Rachel visits before leaving work for the day. She blesses us safe journey and grants us leave latter today. It’s not official in the eyes of the hospital, but this is her fifth labor to us. By my count she is still seven behind the mythological figure Hercules. Knowing her she’ll strive for a thirteenth so as not to be outdone by anyone.
8:10 a.m. - I hold Hayden while mom takes a fifteen minute nap.
8:52 a.m. – The nurses took my child. They claim their intentions are pure, but one can’t be too careful. Supposedly this will lead to me being allowed to take her home. No word yet for Melissa. At this point it I can only assume she has to work off her debt to the hospital. It will be an odd week without her.
9:08 a.m. – I struggle to find an end to this blog. Perhaps I will just add “End of part one… see you at home for the finally of our weekend – J”. Or something to that effect.
9:18 a.m. The baby's doctor came in and told us all the ins and outs of operating a baby. She is allowed to leave. Still no word on the fate of Melissa. Baby is back in the room.
9:28 a.m. - End of part one… see you at home for the finally of our weekend - J
Second… I must warn you, in this blog I may ignore appealing to delicate sensibilities of the masses. My younger readers outside of the industry standard target demographic of 18 to 35 may want to try and read some words with an audible bleep noise as to not offend their impressionable minds.
And finally before I begin, who would have thought that anyone would ever read a sentence like the one that kicked off this blog. But it perfectly captured what transpired this past Friday. The only problem with our countdown, Hayden forgot to mention to us that she was ready for blast off.
But!
Regardless of her failure to adhere to any form of an itinerary, we came through with flying colors. Stars and stripes even. And since taking my word for it defeats any purpose of writing today’s blog, I shall take you through the weekend’s events as best as my skewed memory will allow.
Friday June 11th: Roughly 2:30 p.m. – Melissa and I decide to leave the house and try to salvage some shred of productivity and accomplishment for the day. Our attack plan includes a stop at Target for impulse shopping and Wal-Mart for paint and supplies.
4:30 p.m. – Both stops went off without a hitch. But at this point hunger has begun to creep into our lives. A quick congress of our household has determined that Mexican food is our best chance to fend off such an adversary.
5:10 p.m. – We arrive at La Salsa. The main thing you should gather from this point is that it would behoove you to try the mango salsa. It is “shit” worthy. As in, “this mango salsa is the shit.”
6:00 p.m. – Food was great, now we decide to stall our evening by stopping at Borders for some casual window shopping. I find many things I want, Melissa echoes this sentiment.
7:30 p.m. – We return home to an expected evening of collectively sitting firmly on our asses and doing nothing.
7:38 p.m. – I run to the store to indulge my wife’s impulse craving for chocolate. And pick up some Chips Ahoy for myself. I love Chips Ahoy.
8:58 p.m. – It is almost time for Real Time with Bill Maher. I arrange myself in a position to maximize my comfort and perform relaxing foot rubs on my over taxed wife without detracting from my ideal viewing angle.
9:05 p.m. – The first vocal contraction hits.
9:22 p.m. – After four more intense contraction, we decide to use our direct line to a labor and delivery nurse (thank you Rachel) and see what she suggests. Coming to the hospital was here instructions. Seems like a smart plan.
9:28 p.m. – The truck is packed and we are heading to the hospital.
9:39 p.m. – I miss the first exit to the hospital and begin to release some profane language. All the while Melissa keeps focused by repeating the mantra, “The epidural is my friend.”
9:46 p.m. – Not deterred by the slight detour, we arrive and take “blue to two” where we check in and Melissa uses a “6 or 7” as to describe the intensity of her current pain level.
9:46 and a half p.m. – She changes her answer to “10!”
9:49 p.m. – Check in is over and we are wheeled to a prep room where Melissa is to change into the traditional unfinished gown of the hospital. Not half way through the disrobing of the daily clothes she firmly instructs me to get a nurse because she wants to push right away.
9:50 p.m. – Total fucking chaos.
You’ll now have to excuse me, but apparently from 9:51 p.m. to roughly 10:28 p.m. time managed to somehow slip itself into some cosmic vortex were the surreal kung fu kicked the shit out of the real and then bombarded me with a series of quick mental images containing bright traces of crimson and loud protest of intense pain. At this point the doctors informed us that the friendly epidural will not be joining us tonight in some sort of protest of our not sticking to the mutually accepted course of action.
10:29 p.m. – The real reasserts itself in the continuum by violently punching the surreal in the throat when it was distracted by the Klingon shaped “crown” that added itself to the equation.
10:32 p.m. – Rachel’s previously unmentioned presence in the room has paid it’s next dividend by instructing Melissa to bear down and give one last good old college try push.
10:33 p.m. – Baby Hayden introduces herself to us with what would be a very annoying series of screams were she someone else’s newborn. Instead, she might as well been channeling Maria Callas because it was breathtakingly beautiful.
Saturday June 12th 2:39 a.m. – After me cutting the cord, the docs and nurses tending to the wife, seeing to the health of Hayden, visiting with some friends and eventually changing to our extended stay room; the three of us settled down for the night. Missy in her hospital bed, Hayden in a plastic box mounted on a wooden cart with wheels, and me on a couch that fit as snug as a coffin (I don’t know this for certain, but I would guess a coffin is way more comfortable).
3:45 a.m. 4:58 a.m. and again at 6:30 a.m. – Hayden woke up, cried, we soothed, and repeated.
For the times between 6:45 a.m. and 1:10 p.m. we did our own thing with the occasional dropping in of a nurse or two.
1:21 p.m. – Our first official visitor came bearing gifts. And then was threatened to have her kids removed from the waiting room when impatience took a hold of her 4 year old the Lilly-Bug. Things were resolved, her two boys and finished watching USA play to a tie after rallying behind a Buckner-esque play by England’s goalie. D’oh! Now I am off to release the hound… or take care of the Murph. He’s no doubt went stir crazy and I fear for the safety of the house.
2:18 p.m. – I have returned to the hospital with Mike Foss in tote. He has agreed to Murph-sit for the evening. Fifty minutes from now he will leave, this will be the last time anyone has ever heard from Mike Foss again.
2:30 p.m. – Family visit time, or Kalen meets her lil' sis for the first time! We finally have some family come and see us. Me ‘maw and pa ’paw showed up with Aunt Kay-Kay and the Kalenator. Hayden was passed around like a baton in a relay race.
3:10 p.m. – Baby to boob time. So we all leave the room. In the waiting room Uncle Chris appears with a side of Korah Beans.
3:40 p.m. – The two sisters appear to have hit it off… I suspect sibling rivalry to develop in the very near future.
4:48 p.m. – As quickly as they descended upon us, the family files out into the hall and out the doors. We are left with a small bit of quiet time before dinner.
5:20 p.m. – The Benders show up with Bread Co. and a plaque officially labeling Hayden by name in hand. Rachel has now accomplished a third and fourth labor for us. She is becoming much like Hercules in this respect.
6:30 p.m. – The Benders have now left. Rachel to work here at the hospital and John to no doubt go and perform some sort of tribute for being bestowed such a legendary and heroic fiancé.
The rest of this night was filled with short one hour bursts of sleep and occasional visits from nurses, both for Hayden and Melissa. If I had label an official start to this third day I would say it was around at 6:02 a.m. when I awoke seeking coffee.
Sunday June 13th 6:12 a.m. - Coffee was found.
6:15 a.m. - A brief encounter with Rachel in the cafeteria lead to no labor accomplished. After all, heroes get to take a morning off.
7:02 a.m. – Breakfast was ate by Hayden and then by us. Slowly, preparations are being made for our exit.
7:15 a.m. – Rachel visits before leaving work for the day. She blesses us safe journey and grants us leave latter today. It’s not official in the eyes of the hospital, but this is her fifth labor to us. By my count she is still seven behind the mythological figure Hercules. Knowing her she’ll strive for a thirteenth so as not to be outdone by anyone.
8:10 a.m. - I hold Hayden while mom takes a fifteen minute nap.
8:52 a.m. – The nurses took my child. They claim their intentions are pure, but one can’t be too careful. Supposedly this will lead to me being allowed to take her home. No word yet for Melissa. At this point it I can only assume she has to work off her debt to the hospital. It will be an odd week without her.
9:08 a.m. – I struggle to find an end to this blog. Perhaps I will just add “End of part one… see you at home for the finally of our weekend – J”. Or something to that effect.
9:18 a.m. The baby's doctor came in and told us all the ins and outs of operating a baby. She is allowed to leave. Still no word on the fate of Melissa. Baby is back in the room.
9:28 a.m. - End of part one… see you at home for the finally of our weekend - J
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Small Blog w/ONE HUGE TOPIC!!!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
“Patience and fortitude conquer all things”
Ralph Waldo Emerson was the proud owner of that little nugget of goodness I placed conveniently in quotation marks at the top of this blog. And in case you wanted to know my opinion…
Waldo up there was full of shit.
Now let me qualify my bitching a bit here. This pregnancy has been relatively easy based on horror stories viewed on TLC. Judging from what some friends and acquaintances of have shared, we could have had a much more stressful ordeal. And of all the people involved… it’s my wife that has experienced any discomfort really.
But all that said… I am ready for Baby Secret Name to get her butt out of Melissa’s belly and into this world.
Come on all ready.
Despite all of my boasts of possibly selling our bouncing bundle of joy on the baby black market (reverse the first two words of that phrase and I become an instant racist), I was secretly hoping that she would have came today since today was my mom’s birthday. The idea of sharing that with my mom, who wanted nothing more in life then to have a little granddaughter was enough to almost make me a little misty eyed this past week.
But to no avail. The little girl has shown the same stubborn resolve that my mom was famous for. Maybe it’s in that respect that our sweet angel will actually be grandma’s little devil. I can’t say that I’d be too upset were that true.
Even still… as we sit here and watch Sex Drive on premium cable for the umpteenth time, we wait. We remain patient. She bides her time.
And it is driving me flip’n crazy.
Maybe it would be a tad easier on me if my wife wasn’t engaged in a “subconscious” mission to f@#%K with me every chance she gets. She tries to deny it, but I am on to her ruse. I think she enjoys having the upper hand in this arena. Science has thankfully yet to level the playing field in the bearing children department. So for the foreseeable future, she’ll continue to hold all the cards.
Luckily that future and her upper hand both slightly decrease after Sunday. Not so lucky, I slip further behind the ladies in the guy/girl ratio in this household.
It’s only going to harder on this solo manly blogger – J
PS, happy birthday mom.
Waldo up there was full of shit.
Now let me qualify my bitching a bit here. This pregnancy has been relatively easy based on horror stories viewed on TLC. Judging from what some friends and acquaintances of have shared, we could have had a much more stressful ordeal. And of all the people involved… it’s my wife that has experienced any discomfort really.
But all that said… I am ready for Baby Secret Name to get her butt out of Melissa’s belly and into this world.
Come on all ready.
Despite all of my boasts of possibly selling our bouncing bundle of joy on the baby black market (reverse the first two words of that phrase and I become an instant racist), I was secretly hoping that she would have came today since today was my mom’s birthday. The idea of sharing that with my mom, who wanted nothing more in life then to have a little granddaughter was enough to almost make me a little misty eyed this past week.
But to no avail. The little girl has shown the same stubborn resolve that my mom was famous for. Maybe it’s in that respect that our sweet angel will actually be grandma’s little devil. I can’t say that I’d be too upset were that true.
Even still… as we sit here and watch Sex Drive on premium cable for the umpteenth time, we wait. We remain patient. She bides her time.
And it is driving me flip’n crazy.
Maybe it would be a tad easier on me if my wife wasn’t engaged in a “subconscious” mission to f@#%K with me every chance she gets. She tries to deny it, but I am on to her ruse. I think she enjoys having the upper hand in this arena. Science has thankfully yet to level the playing field in the bearing children department. So for the foreseeable future, she’ll continue to hold all the cards.
Luckily that future and her upper hand both slightly decrease after Sunday. Not so lucky, I slip further behind the ladies in the guy/girl ratio in this household.
It’s only going to harder on this solo manly blogger – J
PS, happy birthday mom.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Small Blog w/Small Thoughts
Today I am giving you a new item to my ever expanding toy chest of blog features.
This version of my blog will always be short, sweet, and to the point. Sometimes poignant, often funny, and never dependable… it’s the mini blog!
Today’s mini blog is inspired by a term coined by co blogger AC (visit his rarely posted blog site for some occasional nuggets of goodness http://wanderingsofagypsyking.wordpress.com/).
A few nights ago AC texted me that he saw my “scrunchy”, a doppelganger that had been smushed down to a creepy pint sized version of yours truly. I decided that this was some cleverly sharp wit from the KC based writer.
Damn shame he doesn’t post more frequently.
Any who… at some random point during this fine Sunday, I stood up off the couch and embraced the urge to go wee wee. On my way to the bathroom I told the wife I’d be back in a jiff. While doing my business I decided that numerical labeling of whizzing and pooping has become somewhat passé. So in an effort to reinvigorate the act of relief, I have decided to change the term for #1 to using the “drive thru”. And dropping a deuce will now be called “dining in”.
So there you go. Drive thru or dining in?
With me, it’s almost always a sit and eat visit - J
This version of my blog will always be short, sweet, and to the point. Sometimes poignant, often funny, and never dependable… it’s the mini blog!
Today’s mini blog is inspired by a term coined by co blogger AC (visit his rarely posted blog site for some occasional nuggets of goodness http://wanderingsofagypsyking.wordpress.com/).
A few nights ago AC texted me that he saw my “scrunchy”, a doppelganger that had been smushed down to a creepy pint sized version of yours truly. I decided that this was some cleverly sharp wit from the KC based writer.
Damn shame he doesn’t post more frequently.
Any who… at some random point during this fine Sunday, I stood up off the couch and embraced the urge to go wee wee. On my way to the bathroom I told the wife I’d be back in a jiff. While doing my business I decided that numerical labeling of whizzing and pooping has become somewhat passé. So in an effort to reinvigorate the act of relief, I have decided to change the term for #1 to using the “drive thru”. And dropping a deuce will now be called “dining in”.
So there you go. Drive thru or dining in?
With me, it’s almost always a sit and eat visit - J
Saturday, June 5, 2010
The Update Blog or Blog Potpourri
It’s been many a days since I last blogged. And in those days, many a things have changed.
To the best of my ability I will try and summarize those changes in a quick, efficient manner while maintaining the same sharp wit that you’ve grown to love and expect from me.
To start, much to the dismay of my ever expanding wife, as of this Saturday we are still a one kid family. This number will double regardless of this week’s events no later than next Sunday… and almost assuredly before BP caps the oil leak. I am setting the over/under on my baby’s age versus the time before a solution to the leak is discovered around 17 months. You may begin betting at any time.
Next up, and thankfully for the health of my sanity, we are now living in a house. Although the unpacking isn’t quite finished, I’ve set a personal goal of accomplishing that before the Kalenator’s birthday.
Feel free to make wagers on that as well.
Some of you will be happy to know that thanks to the inter web knowledge of some of my more geekly friends and the ambition of pirates across the globe… I am reading comics again. And while I do miss the oddly pleasing feeling of turning a page, the kick start to my creativity should show through with each passing blog and cartoon strips (coming soon… again I promise).
Fourthly, I now commute from the warm and safe bosom of Missouri life to the dark and seedy underbelly of Illinois. And while I enjoy the new position of having limited authority, I am not sure it balances out with the loss of my humanity due to working in the same state of residence as the Cubs.
Some of you will argue that I am still in Card’s country… but you’re not fooling me you sneaky S.O.B’s.
Finally, if you haven’t noticed, I have internet again. And like last’s night’s mini blog indicated, the blogs should from this point on flow forth like saliva from my dog’s mouth.
I wanted to use a BP joke there, but fought off the urge so as not to sound redundant.
Oh wait!!!
Also, I have a new (to me) and larger grill! I’d say that the increase of cooking surface means that you are all invited over for a BBQ, but I am not sure that I have the finances or patience to entertain the you people.
So there… now if you keep reading, I’ll keep writing.
Catch you on the rebound - J
To the best of my ability I will try and summarize those changes in a quick, efficient manner while maintaining the same sharp wit that you’ve grown to love and expect from me.
To start, much to the dismay of my ever expanding wife, as of this Saturday we are still a one kid family. This number will double regardless of this week’s events no later than next Sunday… and almost assuredly before BP caps the oil leak. I am setting the over/under on my baby’s age versus the time before a solution to the leak is discovered around 17 months. You may begin betting at any time.
Next up, and thankfully for the health of my sanity, we are now living in a house. Although the unpacking isn’t quite finished, I’ve set a personal goal of accomplishing that before the Kalenator’s birthday.
Feel free to make wagers on that as well.
Some of you will be happy to know that thanks to the inter web knowledge of some of my more geekly friends and the ambition of pirates across the globe… I am reading comics again. And while I do miss the oddly pleasing feeling of turning a page, the kick start to my creativity should show through with each passing blog and cartoon strips (coming soon… again I promise).
Fourthly, I now commute from the warm and safe bosom of Missouri life to the dark and seedy underbelly of Illinois. And while I enjoy the new position of having limited authority, I am not sure it balances out with the loss of my humanity due to working in the same state of residence as the Cubs.
Some of you will argue that I am still in Card’s country… but you’re not fooling me you sneaky S.O.B’s.
Finally, if you haven’t noticed, I have internet again. And like last’s night’s mini blog indicated, the blogs should from this point on flow forth like saliva from my dog’s mouth.
I wanted to use a BP joke there, but fought off the urge so as not to sound redundant.
Oh wait!!!
Also, I have a new (to me) and larger grill! I’d say that the increase of cooking surface means that you are all invited over for a BBQ, but I am not sure that I have the finances or patience to entertain the you people.
So there… now if you keep reading, I’ll keep writing.
Catch you on the rebound - J
Friday, June 4, 2010
A Blog of Few Words.
I promise the blog will be back up and adhering to a regular schedule once again starting soon.
Blame moving, baby, and mostly laziness.
For now, you people don't go a changing - J
Blame moving, baby, and mostly laziness.
For now, you people don't go a changing - J
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