Week 25-ish: Hey! That's not an umbilical cord.

After a brief hiatus, here are a couple of the most interesting baby-related developments:

We finally decided on her name. It’s…Chuck?

No, we didn’t really pick her name, but we were pretty close. Until she grew a wiener.

To be honest, this totally threw me for a loop. It’s not that I wanted a girl or a boy in particular, but it’s a total change in perspective (interesting that he’s not even born yet, but there’s already the gender role influence). Pretty weird how one extra little (no jokes) appendage can change things.

In the end, it doesn’t matter if she’s a he or he’s a she. Now I just have to replace all the “Daddy’s little hockey princess” shirts with “Daddy’s ass-kicking hockey goon” shirts.

In terms of names, Julia and I are miles apart.

Actually, that’s not true. We’ve got a decent list of five or so names that we both really like. What is true is that, in typical good-versus-evil fashion, my top name (the good one) and Julia’s top name (the evil one) were simultaneously removed from existence. It was like matter and anti-matter coming into direct contact. Black holes formed, and our top names were no more.

Seriously, though, I’m pretty pumped about the names we have left. This is going to be one cool kid. He will have adoring fans, charisma will ooze out of his pores. Ladies will flock to him like…wait a minute. We’re naming him Eugene.

Welcome to birthing class! Here’s an excess showing of areolas.

We started going to birthing classes. Here’s my serious statement: in the end, I think these classes would help any first time parent. They’re educational, calming, and a good way to spend time with your wife. You realize you’re not the first one to blaze this path – there’s so much research and great advice out there for you.

On the flip-side, I’ve never seen such an unattractive showing of fifty-odd breasts. You hear “video on breast-feeding”, and your inexperienced ears perk up. Five minutes later, you’re searching for a spoon to gauge your eyes out with.

And then there’s the video where you get to watch the baby crown. Where’s that damn spoon!?!?!

Like I said before, it’s a great resource. In the end, it’s totally worth it. But during? Just imagine how awkward it is to be sitting in class when the instructor flashes a picture of her feeding her own kids up on the board. “Hey, that’s your bo…oh.”

One more note on the “It’s a boy!” thing.

Make all the jokes you want about that boy’s genetic inheritance. I’ll reiterate what Julia’s post said. The ultrasound doc said he’s “a boy ALL DAY LONG.”