01 June 2010

This evening Jennifer and I attended our first class of “Birthing from Within.”

I wasn’t sure if I’d like this class. I mean, I’m all for getting away from corporatized, bureaucratic crap, but I’m not quite as free-lovin’ hippie as some. Anyway, I’m happy to report the class went well. At first I was a little put off because they had us just sit down and begin drawing. I’m not a drawer; and I don’t use drawing as a hobby or an outlet for anything. Also, I hate the feel of charcoal crayons (or whatever they’re called) on my fingers. More importantly, I had just arrived, and it usually takes me a few minutes to feel comfortable in a new situation, so I didn’t feel like expressing my innermost feelings artistically immediately upon arrival.

Besides that, though, I enjoyed the class. Jennifer and I attended a birthing class prior to Owen’s birth. That class was 99% useless. For one thing, the curriculum was set up to operate under the assumption that the parents were total idiots, baffled by even how they got pregnant. For example, we had to watch a 20 minute video on the importance of good health during pregnancy, which included tips like: don’t get drunk, don’t eat junk food all day, and don’t smoke. We had to sit at long tables, like a typical classroom, which wasn’t at all conducive to a birthing class, and the instructor taught us bizarre breathing techniques, like: breath in deep once, then out twice, then four shallow breaths, then pat your head while rubbing your tummy while exhaling out of your mouth and inhaling through your ears. I couldn’t follow it. We had to go to that class two days in a row, and both days were 8 hours long. It was terrible.

But this time, we sat on pillows in a circle, and there seemed to be a general assumption that we all were competent enough to already know things about pregnancy and birth. There were only three couples, and two instructors, so not a big crowd.

Anyway, Jennifer wrote more about the experience here, so just read that. We’ll be attending this class each Tuesday this month, so stay tuned…

02 June 2010

So, time for an update on how I’m doing with some projects this summer…

I mentioned my desire to read the Little House collection of books, and to finish up Lies Across America. Well, I’ve read two of the nine Little House books already, and I’m about halfway through the third book. I haven’t made much headway on Lies, but I plan to bring it with me on our vacation this coming weekend. This evening, though, as I was reading, I realized I probably don’t have to race to finish a bunch of books before the baby arrives. After all, I know I’ll still have time to read after he/she is born and, besides, what does it matter if it takes me five years to finish my list of books?

On the subject of filmlets: I’m making progress, but not as much as I’d like. Today at work I spent about an hour working on one video, but it’s still not done. This evening I imported some more footage and I hope to begin working on that tomorrow during my lunch break. I’ve gotta ramp up the time I spend on these things.

Wood projects: I haven’t touched those sundials I was working on last winter. They’re still just lying around, wondering when I’m gonna finish them. In regards the cradle, I think it’s good to go. It’s just sitting in the garage drying and de-fuming. I’ll check on it in the next couple days and see if it looks good. If it does, then it’s just a matter of waiting a few weeks until all the fumes are gone.

In other news today: my wife visited her parents’ house today and returned with outfits for the baby, compliments of her mom and aunt. Funny thing: it’s all girl stuff. Well, some of the outfits could be termed “gender neutral,” but everything else is clearly for a little lady. I guess everyone thinks we’re having a girl. My opinion on that: for the first ten minutes of her life, a girl would be easier, because we’d have an easier time naming her. After that, though, I have no idea what to do.

29 May 2010

I saw my Dad and Stepmom today. They’re here in Minnesota for a week, and though they plan to spend the majority of their time up north at my stepsister’s home, they made time to see me, Jennifer, Owen, my sister and her husband at Chili’s restaurant this evening.

Until I saw him today, this was actually the longest time I’d ever gone without seeing my Dad. The last time we were together was at his in-laws house some 22 months ago. In fact, though he and I have lived in separate states for nearly a decade now, 2009 was the first time an entire year went by without us seeing each other.

In keeping with Owen’s policy of rampant materialism, my Dad and Stepmom showed up with two gifts for him, which kept him very occupied throughout our time at the restaurant, especially the part where he launched his toy car across the table to his Uncle Mike, who then sent it zooming back.

Here are part of the instructions that came with that car:

Let me draw your attention first to the “hint” under step two. Notice it says that shaking the car more than 8 times will not increase its travel distance. But now look under step 3: “The more you shake your vehicle, the longer it goes!” So, you know, it all depends on whether you wish to follow step 2 or 3, I guess. I think the best bet is to just do what Owen discovered without reading any directions: just start shaking the thing until you hear the motor begin, then set it down and let it do its thing.

Next, here’s the tag that was attached to the other gift he received today:

Ha ha! Who thought this was the best possible wording that could be placed on this toy? I don’t think I have anything to add to this. It just struck me as funny.

30 May 2010

If you’ve been reading what Jennifer and I post on our website long enough, then you already know that I made a cradle for Owen before he was born. If you didn’t know that, you can read about it here, in what is perhaps the best-named post EVER.

Anyway, today, I padded the wagon with a blanket, gently set the cradle on the wagon, and pulled it down the hall, into the elevator, down to the first level, and across the parking lot to our garage. The cradle is in great shape, but I thought it could be fixed up a little.

First, one of the roof panels had several nicks in it. I’m not sure how these occurred, nor why they are all concentrated on one panel, but I tried sanding them out. Some of them are deeper than I’d thought, and so I couldn’t smooth them all out. But it does look better. Next, there was some paint on one side. Judging from the color, it somehow splashed on there when Jennifer was painting Owen’s bedroom. Thankfully, it was all superficial, and I was able to sand it all off. Then there were some dark smudges on the tops of the “legs” (or whatever you call the rocker-part of the cradle); probably the result of using dark, old sandpaper on them last time. A few minutes’ sanding go them off. Finally, shortly after Owen was born, Jennifer etched his name into the bottom of the cradle with a burner, but before doing that she had written his name on there in pencil, and we’d never been able to get the pencil marks off. So, today, I sanded those markings off, too.

After wiping the sanded portions off with a tack cloth, I rubbed them with linseed oil and left it to dry in the garage. It takes several weeks for the oil’s fumes to fully dissipate, so it’s good I did this so far in advance of the baby’s birth. Now there’s still the question of what name to etch on the bottom next to Owen’s name…

31 May 2010

The weather was pretty much perfect today. Coupled with the fact that it’s Memorial Day, I knew this would make for a crowded park where ever we went. Still, it was too nice to not do anything outside, so we made our way to Crosby Lake Regional Park. We walked down to the Mississippi River and, sure enough, it was busy. There was never less than five boats in our field of vision, and people were all over, up and down the shore. That’s really not my style. I much preferred last year, in early September, when the three of us went to Fort Snelling one Friday, and there were only four other people there the entire time. For much of the day, we were the only people there. That was great. Today was too busy.

Later, we walked to Mickey’s Restaurant for dinner. It’s a fun, inexpensive place to go, so if anyone ever wants to join us, just say so. Owen insists we sit at the bar so we can watch our food being made. I think that’s a pretty good policy, really.

Also today – this is 26 years old:

I know, it’s kind of weird. Is that shoe stepping on that snake, or is it merely in front of the snake? Why is the sole of the right shoe ‘broken’ into pieces? Why do the legs stop, abruptly, right at the top of the socks? I don’t know.

My grandmother stitched this for me back in 1984, and, according to the inscription on the back, she must’ve either finished it or presented it to me on this day 26 years ago. For a time, it hung in my room. But when I was 14 years old, I moved to a new home, and I felt a little too ‘grown up’ for such a childish bit of embroidery. So I packed it away. It moved with me from place to place and, two years ago, when I suddenly had my own bathroom, I decided to decorate it my way. I have a Paul Simon concert poster hanging up, a movie poster for U2:3D, a photo montage of the solar system’s gas giants, and this “Jimmy’s Room” sign from my grandmother. Happy Anniversary to it.

27 May 2010

I took Owen to preschool this morning. We were listening to his CDs in the car, because we always listen to his CDs in the car. These disks are random songs from different performers that I burned soon after we bought the Saturn. The Saturn, incidentally, is the first vehicle we’ve ever owned with a CD-player in it.

On the way to school, Owen asked me if he could hear the crying song, which is his way of asking for “It’s Alright to Cry,” from the kids’ show Free To Be You and Me. It wasn’t on the disk we were listening to, so I had to swap it out with another disk. It wasn’t on that one, either. Or the next one. Or the next one. This was quite funny to Owen.

I finally found the song on the fifth (of five) disk. After listening to the song, the next song, “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider” came on, and I watched Owen in the rearview mirror as he gestured the different parts of the song. I think he’s learning that song for his class graduation. When “Spider” was done, Owen asked to hear the crying song again. The song finished right as we pulled into the parking lot of his school.

I just thought that was a fun way to start the day.

28 May 2010

I am pleased to announce that Jennifer and I received all A’s in our classes this past semester. Jennifer found out two days ago, but my grade was just posted this afternoon. I think this is a significant accomplishment considering we did this despite working full-time (me), being pregnant (Jennifer), raising a young child, and being sick the entire first month of the semester.

Also, they don’t tell you this when they post the grades online, but Jennifer and I had perfect attendance last semester (and the semester before that, too). I had to leave class about 15 minutes early one day to take care of Owen, and I think Jennifer arrived at class about 10 minutes late once or twice. But despite having to drive Owen off to preschool, and despite me coming from work each day, we still managed to make it to all of our classes.

Although I had seven assignments due in class this past semester, only four of them were papers based on texts the class was assigned to read. I will now list those four texts and the grade I received on each one’s respective paper:

Thomas and Beulah: A-

A Raisin in the Sun: A

The Lovely Bones: A

Best American Short Stories 2009: A

I think this really shows the importance of reading the assigned text from cover to cover. Because, I must confess, I did not read Thomas and Beulah completely, having been thoroughly lost and bored about 1/3 of the way through. As a result, you’ll notice, my grade suffered.

24 May 2010

Here’s how absent-minded I am (in case you didn’t already know):

Today, on the way home from work, I stopped at Target. Primarily to return something we bought there yesterday, but also to buy a few items. Among the items I needed were a couple of pairs of nice pants (so that I can be “Mr. Fancy Pants”). I found a few that looked like they would fit, and then I went over to the fitting rooms. Today was, like, my third time ever in my adult life that I used a fitting room. Did you know they give you a ticket? Yeah, it’s like you’re boarding a plane or something. Anyway…

I tried on the pants and selected the two pair that fit the best and enhanced my best features. The I carried the pants and the other items to the opposite end of the store in order to pay.

As the cashier was ringing up my items, I reached up to my shirt pocket to grab my sunglasses, but they weren’t there. “Oh man,” I said to the cashier, “can I leave my stuff here while I go get my sunglasses? I think I left them in the changing room.”

She said I could, so I did. I then walked all the way back to the furthest corner of the store and told the ticket lady that I’d left my sunglasses in the room. She didn’t seem to care about my story, so I just walked down the hall of fitting rooms.

Here’s the thing: I couldn’t remember which fitting room I used. In my defense, there’s about 15 identical rooms all in a row, and the one I used was somewhere near the center. I narrowed it down to three rooms, which were all closed. When a woman walked out of one room, I poked my head in real quick, but I didn’t see any sunglasses. A moment later, the second room freed up. Still no sunglasses. I waited close to ten minutes longer until the third, very slow lady, exited here room. There were my sunglasses right where I’d left them.

And, no, I can’t just buy another pair. They are high-quality brand-name polarized, anti-reflective sunglasses which I won in a contest when I used to work at Lenscrafters. Back then (1997?) they retailed for $150. Besides, even if I did lose them, I wouldn’t buy another pair, since I have ten more.

25 May 2010

Man, I am not a fan of hot weather. With high temperatures usually comes high humidity, and I can’t stand either one. Today reminded me of being in Florida, where the sun is boring through my clothes as if I’m standing under a magnifying glass, and the moisture in the air feels like I just stepped out of the shower and forgot to turn on the fan.

Today we got in our exercise by walking around the Mall of America. On the one hand, this is quite lame, because it’s a lot prettier outside and I hate the constant distractions at the mall. On the other hand, the mall has a much more bearable climate. And, as my wife noted, she can stop to go to the bathroom at several locations along the way.

Here’s hoping for some more normalized May weather…

26 May 2010

Today, at work, one of my co-workers looked at one of my other (very pregnant) co-workers as she passed by and said: “She shouldn’t even be here.”

I’m not sure if this was meant as just a funny comment, or if she really meant it. I think the answer lies somewhere in between. In that case, I have a few things I’d like to say about that comment:

First, if a woman is 39+ weeks pregnant and is still capable of showing up at work and contributing to the company, I say let her be. Why should she stay at home? Yes, I realize some women may need to stay home in the final days or weeks of their pregnancy, but if there’s no health risks to mom or baby, why should she be made to feel like she should stay home?

Second, a “due date” isn’t a deadline. It’s not like a wedding that’s set for a certain date and that’s gonna happen on that date regardless of weather or who can and can’t attend. The fetus is, I’m pretty certain, not checking off days on some in utero calendar. If mom is expecting a baby on, say, January first, and she’s still pregnant on January fourth, what’s the big deal (again, barring health considerations)? A baby is easier to care for inside the womb than outside, so let it stay in there if it needs to.

Third, employees at my job, and I think at most others, are granted a finite period of time to take off for the birth of a new child. Here in workaholic America, that time is stupidly short. My co-worker, I believe, will be getting 12 weeks off from work. Sure, she can take longer if she needs to or wants to, but the company will only pay for 12 weeks. So, my bet is, she wants the 12 weeks to begin on the baby’s birthday; not waste three or four days beforehand (this goes back to #2, above).

Alright, I’ll get off my soapbox now.

22 May 2010

Man, I can’t believe how much work it is to come up with a name for our baby-to-be.

The other day, Jennifer asked if I would’ve liked to have found out the baby’s gender, and I said “yes and no,” but then I clarified that by saying, “Well, the only reason why I would like to know is so that we only have to pick out one name.” ‘Cause, wow, finding two names is really hard.

For example, in the matter of girls’ names, we pretty much have it narrowed down to two. Jennifer likes both names, but I only really like one of them. Meanwhile, Owen only likes the other one – and I think my wife gives a slight preference to that name. Do we let Owen’s opinion sway us? At five years old, his opinion is bound to change through time anyways. Does it matter if a sibling likes or dislikes the name of their sister?

Girls’ names are further complicated by the middle name. We have many more middle names picked out than first names, but certain middle names only go with certain first names. Make sense?

Boys’ names, meanwhile, are even more troublesome. There is a much smaller pile of names to choose from in the male category, and this evening we spent more time combing over names. Jennifer visited Nimbler and I paged through the book Star Trek: The Next Generation Companion, looking for that one weird alien names that, somehow, ‘works.’ Middle names are likewise troublesome. I thought a middle name for a boy was the one thing we had settled on, but recent discussions and events have thrown our one middle name choice into question.

23 May 2010

What a busy day!

Despite it being a Sunday, I went into work for a few hours this morning. I came home just long enough to pick up Jennifer and Owen and then we were off to a picnic. The picnic was a fundraiser for CampQuest, a camp we think Owen would like to go to when he’s old enough, but in the meantime, we’ll donate to the cause. We thought some of our friends were going to be there but, alas, they were not. This was not surprising in the least, but still disappointing. Owen and I tossed a Frisbee around, but the air was think with humidity, like when you step out of the shower not having turned on the fan.

The humidity wore me out so much that I took a one hour nap on the floor when we got home. Then we left the house again, stopped at Target to buy a railing for Owen’s bed, then attended a deBaptism.

That’s right, a deBaptism. It was held at Al Baker’s restaurant in Eagan. Jennifer and I were expecting to meet up with some friends there, but, alas, they didn’t show up. Huh. That was unexpected.

Anyway, the coordinator, a guy named Eric, was wearing a long purple robe, which gave the effect of making him look like some special ceremonial guy. Yeah, that is the best way to phrase it. He had us go around the room and introduce ourselves. There were ex-Lutherans, ex-Evangelicals, ex-Jews, an ex-Mormon, lots of ex-Catholics, and an ex-Southern Baptist. Jennifer and I were the only ex-Witnesses. After introductions, we each took our turn under the “Hairdryer of Reason,” wherein Eric said some important words about valuing reason over superstition, sprayed us with a mist of (cool) air, and presented us with a certificate saying we were now officially debaptized.Then we ate dinner.

You might think this is a silly thing to do, and you’d be right. Since I now look back on my baptism as a silly ritual, I thought it would be fun to participate in an equally pointless ritual. Of course, since there is no god (not the Watchtower version of God, anyway), my baptism was pointless from a theological standpoint and only served to further the interests of a corporation. So, really, I’d already discarded that event some time ago, but it was fun tonight to make it all ‘official.’

After dining, we went home. Owen and I played with his sidewalk chalk that he got for his birthday (it’s in 3-D!). The three of us walked to Mickey’s Diner for a malt, then we came back home. Jennifer assembled the bed rail for Owen’s bed and I attempted to de-clog the bathroom toilet, which hadn’t worked since last night. The bed rail didn’t fit Owen’s bed, and I can’t get the toilet to work. I just made a mess and, in cleaning the bathroom, used too much bleach and now the bathroom and bedroom smell like a community swimming pool.