February 18, 2005

Reading Paul Conrad’s post over at ideashack makes me want to share my thoughts on swaddling. After all, I’ve got all of a week or so extra parenting under my belt. Way to go Paul, you’ve awakened my need to spew unsolicited parenting advice. Now stand back and watch me work.

Hayes hated to be swaddled… so we thought. He’d bust out of even the tightest wrap. Then we tried it with his hands at his sides… which I think is how the dude who wrote Happiest Baby on the Block says to do it. He struggles a bit then nods off. Hayes does, not the dude who wrote the book. Seems to work. But it leads me to wonder: when is someone going to cut to the chase and just make the baby straitjacket already? ‘Cause that’s what we’re doing right?

Actually, maybe I’ve got it all wrong and we should rename the straitjacket “swaddle.” I think that it would lead to making crazy much more socially acceptable.

Nurse: “I’m afraid we’re going to have to commit you.”

Patient: “But… balhalkjaslkdjsalkja!”

Nurse (into her walkie-talkie aka Nextel phone) “Someone get down here with the swaddle, stat!”

Patient: “I feel loved.”

It would work. I promise.

February 14, 2005

In a sports town like this jinxes run deep and cockiness is a sure sign of apocalyptic events. Case and point: me. Remember my post For Just 2 Cups of Coffee a Day…? Why, it was but one post ago. Yes, well you can take that and throw it between Bill Buckner’s legs. It jinxed us. No sooner did I post that than did the aliens return with my child. He-who-cries-for-no-apparent-reason. So the search continues.

That’s the thing about jinxing. It doesn’t matter who does it. It’s just about counting your chickens before they hatch. Or any other such cliche.

For instance, I will never say anything like the following: (in fact, I’ll use a made up name so as not to doubly jinx us) “Heleosa (that’s the made up name) will be an all ‘A’ student.” Nope. Will never come out of my mouth. Even if Heleosa has all ‘A’s in every class until that point, I will never ever make a grand pronouncement that that sort of great achievement will continue.

The thing is you can’t reverse jinx either. By that I mean, you can’t pronounce him to be an all F student so that he does better. Fact is, if by all ‘F’ student you meant 60s he would be relegated to 50s. That’s how it works. Anyone who has watched the Pats for any length of time knows that any announcer’s statement such as, “Antoine Smith hasn’t fumbled in 1,000,000 carries” means that he will fumble not only the next time he touches the ball but also at the worst possible moment.

That’s how it works in New England. Don’t let our recent sports teams’ success fool you. Any true New Englander believes in the power of jinx. I mean, I can’t be the only one that hasn’t washed my Troy Brown jersey in 2 years.

January 21, 2005

Well Liz came in to check Jen shortly after my last post. She was 2.5cm dilated and Liz decided enough is enough. The anesthiaologist came in sounding and kinda looking a heck of alot like Borat from the Ali G show. “I like you. Do you like me?” We do now. Jen just had a contraction that she didn’t feel! Awesome!

And who knew that the table that I had turned into a rolling media center with Mac, ipod and shitty cellphone hid the epidural funhouse? Yup, all those goodies were right there. Of course we all had to wear those hair covering and masks. April had an Red Sox one that I tried to pry from her with cash money. She wouldn’t give it to me. Which reminds me of a joke: What do you call the 2004 Yankees? Hold on a sec, I’m choking. Hahahaha. That seems pretty funny to me right now. The concept of time seems pretty funny to me right now. I need to take a nap. When I contemplate writing about the epidural to the words of MC Hammer’s “Can’t Touch This,” it’s time to shut it down. More when I wake up.

January 16, 2005

Is it just me or is it easy to get Braxton Hicks and Myers Briggs confused? I know they have nothing to do with each other, they just seem to me to be similar with syllables and two last names and all. How full of themselves were these guys?

You know that thing you get when your really, really happy? Admit it, you know what I’m talking about. Well, I discovered it. Now, when you’re really, really happy — not to be confused with just plain ol’ really happy — it’s called a Sagalyn. So, if you were to use it a sentence, you know for that spelling bee on ESPN or something, it would be used in a sentence such as, “Man, when the Red Sox won the World Series, I was Sagalyn.” That’ll be hard to mix up with Braxton Hicks and Myers Briggs.

I like the sound of it.

Sagalyn.

You heard it here first.

Just a thought before we’re off the bed.

January 13, 2005

Perhaps the thing I am most proud of in the short history of this blog, is what happened today: I foreshadowed my own life. Ok, admittedly, I am again taking liberties with my word usage, but my post this morning definitely foreshadowed a conversation I had at lunch with co-workers.

The topic had turned to baby and whether I had tried Chinese food to hasten the onset of labor. They obviously hadn’t been reading the blog.

“Yup,” I replied. “Last night I even tried scaring her into labor.”

What happened next? Well, in as few words as possible, my co-workers rehashed my fake scaring of my wife (mask, chainsaw, severed head) from this morning’s post without me getting in a word edge wise. At least, that’s how I remember the conversation. One of my co-workers told me he read the post and the similarities were, well… not astounding…but… ah, geeze… similar.

I foreshadowed! Foreshadowed! Did I mention that none of them had read my blog before lunch or even knew it existed? Fine, don’t be impressed.