Holy Crap! I only have how long left?

Yes readers, this pretty much seems to be the sentiment that runs through my head on a regular basis lately. We are at week 27 already, can you believe it? I swear it seems that yesterday I was saying to Jenni, "Hey I think I'm gonna start a blog about this pregnancy thing." So to say things are a little crazy are putting it mildly.

First of all, we have a painted nursery with a crib installed and according to Jen's ever increasing bust size, I can say that Peanut will be well fed to say the least. Now, as a man, what I see is that we have a room to put the baby in, a place for her to sleep, and food ready to be given. What Jen sees, is (apparently) the most under prepared room in all of baby history! I've seen a lot of to do lists in my day, but never have I seen a list of lists to make!! You heard me right, the love of my life brought home a list of lists "we" need to make and then of course get rid of in a timely manner. So as we speak, lists of items to buy, clean, assemble, get rid of, hide in storage, and make "baby friendly" are being compiled and given to me to review as if I could possible have anything to add. Which, by the way has yet to happen to this point. All I know is that there were less items being checked and re-checked by the crack team of rocket scientists assembled at NASA for a shuttle launch.

One fun thing that's been going on is that Peanut has really began to try out her dance moves, and (to my delight) is now bashing Jenni's insides with such violent force that I can feel her on the outside now. And if you were wondering, yes apparently I've already annoyed my daughter, due to the fact that the other night while I was talking to her, she decided she'd had enough and kicked me in the mouth. It's here that I must (for reasons of tradition) insert the similarities of a baby moving to the coolest scene in Alien where the little creature busts out of that guys stomach. Which I have to say is one of the best parts of watching Jen's bump wiggle and move. This comparison is a necessary part of pregnancy...well at least for me it is. Just like every time we fly anywhere it's necessary for me to slam down the widow shade, turn to Jen and say, "There's something on the wing, Some...thing on the wing" and you can bet your ass I do my best William Shattner voice while I say it.

So, what else can I say? We are about %98 sure that Peanut's name is gonna be Zoey, about once a week, me and Jen take turns freaking out about the impending "bundle of joy" (mine usually include bolting upright and saying with bulging eyes "what the hell did we do?"). You know, all the quote un-quote normal things that soon to be parents go through. I do know that I'm excited to be going to out parenting class soon. Not because I really wanna learn how to change a diaper, (believe me, I got that part down) but more for the entertainment value of it all. Cause let's be honest, there's no way I'm gonna be able to be in a classroom all day with things like fake baby's and plastic vagina's and not get in trouble somehow. When I mention this to Jen (as I stifle giggles) she works on her evil mom looks and threatens my life. But we both know in our hearts how that day's gonna go....(Psst, don't worry, I promise to write all the juicy details here for your viewing pleasure)

So until next time, I hope you enjoy this update, don't forget to tell all your friends to read this (gotta be famous you know) and remember, tying little action figures on the end of strings attached to your pregnant wife's clothes to make her look like a balloon in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is only funny to you... ;)

The Zombie-Pregnancy Interaction Theory

Hello readers, I hope all of you had a great holiday season and survived another long stint of time with your families. Did you know that in some countries that's actually a punishment for crimes? As you know, I haven't updated lately due to our own holiday tornado tour. (It's kinda like the Beatles Magical Mystery Tour without the LSD) But now that the smell of fresh baked cookies is out of the air, the last little (completely frustrating) piece of shiny garland hair has been picked up, and we've started another new year, I decided it was time to get my butt back in gear and let you know where we are. So I invite you once again to join me on this crazy (and sometimes hilarious) journey they call pregnancy...

So as it stands today, we are officially 23 weeks pregnant and Jen is looking more beautiful by the day. She got a ton of really cute maternity clothes and is now able to stop dressing like a disgruntled teenager wearing her boyfriend's jacket (aka my clothes) and start dressing in the cute, form fitting clothes that show off her adorable baby bump. I can only imagine that wearing these new clothes allows her a freedom that all of us wish secretly for....not having to suck in. Although, with the new clothes I'm noticing a disturbing trend.....

I'm not sure, but I think if I were to do some research, I'd find that there seems to be some magnetic properties between a baby bump and the human hand. After quiet observation I've came to the conclusion that even the most anti-social of individuals (in this case, my best friend Trevor) seems to be attracted, if not drawn by the above stated magnetic force towards Jennifer's stomach. I've observed these actions in many settings. For example, I theorize that if you put a noticeably pregnant woman in a room full of people, they will be drawn to her like zombies to a freshly wounded victim, arms outstretched, slowly walking (as if not to scare their prey), and mumbling incoherent statements that sound disturbingly a lot like Braaaiinnnsss, (on further review the mumblings were actually cooing sounds and various baby-like words). On contact, the drove of zombie-like people begin not to devour the victim as I'd feared, but to touch, pat, shake, and sometimes talk to the baby bump, sometimes completely ignoring what I'm calling the host body (in this case Jenni). Now does this pack have a leader or a known hierarchy? I'm still working on that, but I feel safe with these preliminary results. First of all, you have the Grandmas or "Alpha mothers". They are typically identified by horrible looking sweatshirts with the claim of "World's Best Granny" or "The Spoilin' Starts Here" printed on front and on some occasions tear-filled eyes. Be warned that these "Alpha mothers" are highly territorial and will attack if given the slightest hint of danger to the host.

Following the Alphas, you have the "Beta mothers" which consist of Aunts, friends, co-workers, and various other strangers that have been pregnant before. The Betas are the largest group, and seem to have the duties of overwhelming the host with loads of information about being pregnant, and what the host should do during this joyous time. This information is not always helpful, and in most cases seems to do nothing more than scare the host into fits of panic about the impending baby. Beta's can be identified by slightly trendier clothes than that of the Alpha's, and also by their distinctive calls. You'll be able to recognize the call of the Beta by listening for things like "I've got some great advice..." or anything pertaining to episiotomy stitches.

The last group in this hoard is the Deltas. I know what you're thinking, Deltas sound like a group of hot sorority girls, but let me warn you, they are not. Deltas are split into two factions. The first is made up of 99 percent men, and are by far, the least threatening to the host. This faction of Deltas deal mainly with the host's mate (me) and are identified by their sad, worn, faces and dull lifeless eyes. These Deltas are known by their calls of "Kiss your sex life goodbye...", and "Do you know how expensive kids are...", and also by their plumage (clothes) which are almost always determined by the Alphas or Deltas they're mated with. Please note, that in my research I've came across a disturbing group of Deltas that are comprised of "new dads" that can be as dangerous as Betas and in some cases, even Alphas. These dangerous Deltas are known to have a somewhat rabid look in there eyes, strange white, sour smelling stains on their clothes, and may try to convince you to watch his mate's birthing video.

The Second and potentially most energetic faction of Deltas are comprised of women that are moms-in-training. These Deltas will wait on the outside of the pack, biding their time for an opening. Notice the slightly crazed look in their eyes, and the way their hands seem to constantly twitch in anticipation of the impending baby bump contact. These Deltas are known to isolate the host and will use this time to find out when during the month the host was most likely to conceive, and inquire if said host did anything to help this process along such as stand on her head or lay against the wall with her legs up in the air.

As I said before, these are just preliminary results and may be subjected to changes at any time. As protection for the host, I feel as though I must be on guard at all times, nimble and cunning as a cat, with the strength of a bear, to do battle with any of these groups, as they may be encountered anywhere. So please, if you see a host in public, and a mob of zombie-like people approaching, heed my advice and remember, if you stand very still, and suck in, you should be completely safe.