The Blog Henceforth To Be Called “”

27 09 2006

I now know why there are so many Indian people. It is the unique synergy of a culture that created the Kama Sutra and pioneered curry, which I now have empirically proven induces labor like gangbusters. That’s my segue to talking about the birth of my little girl. Clumsy, I know, but I haven’t been getting much sleep lately.

I could share the story of her actual birth with you, but it’s really nothing you haven’t heard before. It was strangely reminiscent of any number of “very special” episodes of your favorite classic sitcoms. There was pain, there was anticipation, and there were tears. Not to mention Chandler Bing making an appearance to snark passerby in his inimitable way. About the only thing that description doesn’t cover is the preponderance of bodily fluids involved in the process. When I say there wasn’t a dry eye in the house during the birth of my daughter it is actually factual between the emotional downpours and mecodium friendly-fire.

My wife, forever enchanted with the niceties of Martha Stewart Living, insisted we create a Birth Announcement to share our good news. I was unfamiliar with the protocols on this so I did some research and found that the one constant among them is the indication of vital statistics of the newborn. Why is that of real interest? Is it really that critical that you provide friends with data points to definitively say “Wow. That sure is a pretty average amount of baby!” Granted, there’s not a whole lot more to babies early on since they aren’t exactly busting with personality. Cuteness abounds, but scintilating conversation is still a couple of years off. Still, I was determined to take this mutha to tha next level and came up with this:

It never got management buyout, but my vision is seldom understood in its time.

Now that Quinn is here day and night have ceased to have real meaning. Meals and sleep precariously nest into a schedule of breastfeedings and diaper changes. We spend whatever spare time we can muster talking about breastfeeding and poop. Quinn may not change much from day to day, but her poop is evolving in colors and texture at a staggering rate. If this trend continued through the human life-cycle our feces would achieve self-awareness by age 5 and probably be working in upper-echelon think tanks by 7 years (if properly preserved). We stumble about exhausted, strangely fulfilled and mindful of the potential we are holding in our hands. I just pray to God that she remain healthy and happy or, barring those protections, that He keep her out of any Girls Gone Wild videos.

Ain’t she the cutest?




6 responses

28 09 2006

You will have SO MANY problems when she grows up, because she’s already adorable. Don’t ever forget your bat and a shovel!

Congrats to you and Anita, E. And lots of love. ;*

28 09 2006

she’s very cute. Please tell your better half congratulations. And may I impart a bit of wisdom that came from my neighbor – “when you have a boy you have one dick in the neighborhood to worry about, when you have a girl you have to worry about ALL the dicks in the neighborhood” You may want to look into getting her fixed so she doesn’t attract any potential dates. 😉

28 09 2006

bat? HA! as good-looking as she’s going to be, and the large amount of boys he’ll have to (i was gonna say “beat off”…hahaha beat off) bat away, he’d surely get tired after a few minutes (or throw his back out). I’d suggest nothing less than a minigun.

28 09 2006

She’s amazing. Just amazing. So excited for you both.

28 09 2006
Sarcastic Journalist

Awww, she’s beautiful. I think the whole birth size thing is for other Moms. We need to know who had the biggest crotchfruit spring from our loins. It is the maternal equivilant of measuring our “packages.”

And also, congrats! You’re in for one hell of a ride. (Tell your wife the boobs will get better, too. She’ll know what I’m talking about.)

29 09 2006

Those alien eyes are pretty.

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