Hi!



I recently recieved a comment asking about the status of the blog and the baby. I replied — at length — and then realised I should just post the reply here!

Here is what I wrote:

I haven’t forgotten about the blog, and I probably should have made some post stating as much by now — but being a Dad is extremely time consuming! Who would have thought? :P  I am so busy between baby and work and people constantly coming by and just trying to get some bloody REST that I haven’t had the time to even consider writing.



Well, that’s not true. I considered it.



I just spent all my spare moments vegetating…



Never fear! I will be back soon!! The steady stream of visitors has finally lulled!!!!



Look for several posts in the near future detailing the trials and tribulations and overt freakouts that followed the last post. Be here for the emotional displays! Be here for the tons and TONS of baby pics that I STILL CAN’T STOP TAKING!! Be here for the lack… of… sleep……….. !

And thanks to Kae for kicking me in the ass about this!

Seriously — trying to write a blog post in the latter stages of pregnancy is… nuts. Oh I’m sure there is time. Really. But I am so spun about, freaked out, excited, anxious, happy, in awe and otherwise generally wiggin’, that when I get a minute to do something, that minute is occupied by me staring at the TV, or simply staring at the wall, the ceiling, or a book.

Or sleeping.

There has been lots of sleeping lately. I am not usually a nap person — and I am a night person to boot — once I’m up, I’m up. Saturday afternoon, though, I passed out, sitting up, for about 2 and a half hours. And I’m not sick — this time.

Robin has been especially anxious lately as well — but she has more right to it than me.

If I sound like I’m trying to convince myself, it’s because, sometimes, I really am. Yes pregnancy and the creation of a new life is a beautiful and wonderous thing. A glowing pregnant lady can be cute, pretty, sexy, all of those things. It’s the… other stuff… the…… byproducts, if you will, of this miracle that are, well… disgusting.

And it only gets worse as the pregnancy goes on.

In the beginning, it’s just gas. And puke, if you are one of the unlucky ones to get “morning” sickness. Then there’s more gas. Vaginal discharge. And more gas… And more — well, let’s just say that the gas never stops. It just keeps surfacing in weird and wonderful ways. It is, at the very least, an endless source of entertainment. For all you guys out there who have girls that like to pretend that there body is above gas and therefore they do not fart like us lowly men, well… get ‘em pregnant. Then fart jokes may once again, abound. But watch yourselves, fellows!!! Mood swings while pregnant are nothing to shake a stick at. You don’t want an angry pregnant woman chasing you down the street! She will catch you… eventually. Remember! They sleep less and less as it goes on — and they “sleep” right beside you…

But I digress…

The other day, Robin and a friend (who is also pregnant) were messaging each other on Facebook. Robin had mentioned she had heartburn, and that she was getting it fairly often. Her friend responds thus:

“oohh, heart-burn, they say that means your baby will have a load of hair! No bald babies for Bin & Bobby.”

My response to this statement is…eh? Seriously….. eh??

I really don’t get the relationship. I mean, I was a hairy baby — as Robin was so kind to point out to her friend… on Facebook. As a matter of fact, my mother had me convinced until I was eight years old that I was born covered with thick hair — covered everywhere, that is, except for a bald patch on my chest in the shape of an M… for Monkey. Yeah yeah, laugh it up… Anyway, all that hair fell out. And apparently continued to fall out — have you seen my pictures from the last couple years? I can still grow the stuff, but let’s be honest shall we? I am just glad my mother was dilligent in turning me when I was a baby. I have a nice round head that looks good shaven.

But I digress…

The point of this ramble is this: What could heartburn in the mother possilbly have to do with the amount of hair on the the baby — the kind that falls out quickly or otherwise? Isn’t that stuff handled by genetics? I am pretty sure it is… And I believe in magic and unicorns and such. Oh, and dragons. Lots of dragons…

I did some research, and myths such as this one abound. There are tons of them — with multiple variations that often contradict each other and vary by the teller. Most are surrounding the preeminent mystery that is the sex of the baby. The conclusion of my research? Well, I think that people just think they are fun and want to be involved. I can’t blame them. The whole thing is one of life’s great mysteries. It’s nutty!  I did have one major epiphany though:

Regarding the sex of the baby…

I think there’s a 50-50 chance.

Anyhoo, read and you will find a small list of some of the different myths I have come across, with the obligatory commentary by me, of course — you didn’t think I would pass up a chance to voice my opinion, did you? 

According to About.com, a Braxton Hicks Contraction

is defined by Taber’s Medical dictionary as an intermittent, painless contraction that may occur every 10 to 20 minutes after the first trimester of pregnancy.

I read this to my wife, and I have to say, the look that crossed her face at the word “painless” was, to be mild, somewhat less than amused. She had her first major one the other day. She’s probably been having them for a while, as she has mentioned previously that she has felt odd tightening sensations across her belly. This one, though, lasted a good couple minutes and made her feel like her stomach was attempting to tie itself in a giant knot. That was just uncomfortable… and a little frightening… but then it squeezed hard enough that her back got mad.

This is a definite recipe for unhappy pregnant lady.

It didn’t improve her mood on the subject when she found out what it was… She was relieved, sure, because it was normal, but then she considered that this was a “practice” contraction. False labour. Not nearly or even remotely as ouchie as the real thing. It probably didn’t help that, when we mentioned it to my little sister, my sister told a story about her best friend getting her first real contraction in the hospital and promptly getting up off the bed and trying to walk out the door saying “Nope. Forget it. I’m not doing this!”

Robin is starting to get worried.