Four month update

Hey! I remember you!

So yesterday was Emmy's four-month birthday, which she celebrated by sitting and watching the early soccer game with me. Kami walked in and I was sitting on the couch, feet crossed. Emsley was leaning back on me, watching the game, feet crossed. Then she showed her delight at the wonderful game of soccer by backheeling me square in the home fries. Emsley, not Kami.

Things are going great. We all survived October, which used to be our favorite month of the year (fall, MLB playoffs, football, etc.). Now it's just a month I try to get through without getting pneumonia - something I was unable to achieve in 2010 and 2011. I do ghost tours at The Hermitage, and they're a lot of fun, but it's also the second-busiest month of the year in terms of my regular job responsibilities. So there are a lot of 14- and 16-hour days in October. It was hard going a month without seeing Kami, but adding Emmy to the list of people I don't see was brutal - but it's worth it to pick up the extra vacation time.

Anyhow, while I was at work, Kami was a single mom. I'd leave most days by 7:30am, come back home about 5pm, take Gunther and Angus out, kiss Kami and Emsley, and go back to work for a 7:00pm tour, and get home about 9:30. But enough about me, eh?

Emsley's doing great. She had her four-month shots today. Shots don't go so well...for Kami. She can't watch. Emsley does fairly well. The first shots are like "Hey..." and then the second shots are like she goes "HEY!" and she cries for a little bit. It's worse for us because she really only cries when she's exhausted or is sitting in poo - but the nurses say she does great.

If you recall, Emsley was 9lbs 7ozs when she was born, which put her in the Gigantor percentile. She's now just over 14lbs, so her weight and her height has evened out. Also, the four-month mark means that we have been given the All Clear to start her on rice cereal. Off we went to the store to buy little bowls and little spoons and rice cereal. Well, of course we picked the all natural, not genetically modified (which, let's just remark on how hard it is to find things - for adults, as well - that aren't genetically modified. I'll take baseball players who are genetically modified, but not food, thank you very much.) rice cereal.

Emsley was fussy all day, sore from the shots, and tired from waking up super early because DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME IS RIDICULOUS. She still hasn't been able to get back on her overnight sleeping schedule since the anachronistic abomination went into effect last weekend. Emsley used to sleep until between 7:00-8:00am. Now we're lucky if she makes it past 6:00am. Benjamin Franklin owes us, owes us all, that hour back.

Anyhow, the first go at rice cereal didn't end up going so well. We put her in her Bumbo on the table - which I know you're not supposed to do, but it's not like we put her up there and then went out for a drink. I stood right next to her the whole time. We mixed up the cereal in her little purple bowl -

- Which, hang on, because this deserves a separate section. I am woefully lacking in basic math skills. You could make a decent argument that I am woefully lacking in basic logic - I once failed Basic Motor Skills in driver's ed six times because I couldn't figure out if the car on the page was my car, or the car in front of me. So the first few times I made Emmy's formula, it took me about 30 minutes to write the equation out. And by "equation" I mean "1 scoop of formula + 2 ounces of water = :-)" Now I know it by heart, but that basic conversion was like asking me to memorize the periodic table.

Anyhow, the instructions on the rice cereal box were very short, as if they planned on the dad preparing it to be able to understand instructions. (I might as well be the mouth-breather who goes about daily tasks watching other people to see if they look at me like I just threw up down my shirt, just to make sure I'm doing them right. I do this while I pay at the pump at the gas station. I wish I was kidding.) The instructions said, "Add one tablespoon of cereal to 3-4 tablespoons of formula. Add water to desired consistency." That was it. So I stood in the kitchen thinking:

1) I don't know how many tablespoons are in the scoop that comes in the formula can.
2) How do I figure that out?
3) What do I put it in once it's measured out?
4) How much water do I add?
5) What water consistency do I desire?
6) How many tablespoons are in an ounce?

*At this point, I pulled out garlic powder and set it next to the bowl. For what reason, I have no idea.*

7) What's the ratio of cereal to formula?
8) How much water do I add?
9) What do I put it in?

Ultimately, with Kami's help - and Kami has the patience of a saint - I figured it out. Kami knew how to do it all along, but NOBODY WAS HELPING ME ACCOMPLISH THIS TASK. I won't be able to replicate the results tomorrow, but I got it tonight.

Emsley liked it well enough. She didn't gobble down a bowl of genetically righteous gruel, but took a few bites and didn't Exorcist-Vomit it up. We chalked it up to not feeling well. And Benjamin Franklin.

To the guy at Wal-Mart

It's been a month since we last spoke, and I have missed you all. Things are rolling along here at Chez Yaskeaux, and Emsley is now three months old - which is just unbelievable.

Some things that have changed over the last month:

1) Car rides no longer go so well. We went to Oklahoma for Kami's uncle's wedding towards the end of September, and it was, um, a trial. Emmy does well for the first 4-5 hours, and then things start to get real. On the way back from Oklahoma, what should have been about an eight-hour trip turned into a 12-hour trip as we had to stop every 45 minutes from west of Little Rock back to Nashville.

It did not help matters that in Memphis - in the bright blue sky and sunshine - some semi driver decided it would be a good idea to run his rig into the guardrail and shut down I-40. And it did not help matters - or progress - that the Tennessee Department of Transportation decided it was an even better idea to shut I-40 down to one lane for "Construction," which was not taking place. So it took us an hour to go three miles, and the semi driver next to us was under no circumstances going to let me over so I could take exit to get a shortcut around all of it. Meanwhile, Emsley is screaming bloody murder, and there's not anything we can do about it. That was fun. We need to evaluate our Christmas plans.

2) Emmy much prefers sitting up now - which is extremely cute. Regard:

3) So the other day we were at Wal-Mart getting Halloween decorations, as it's Kami's favorite holiday of the year. Emmy was getting a little fussy in her car seat rolling in the cart, so I took her out and held her, which resulted in her falling asleep with her head on my chest. We were walking around and a guy in a flannel shirt (which is awfully vague for Wal-Mart, I realize) comes up to me and says, "Cherish these days. They grow up so fast."

If I had spoken one word, I would have lost it. Kami came up to me and asked what was wrong, and I just shook my head. But she's been trying to get me to express my emotions more - something at which I'm not exactly an All-Star - so she kept prodding. Through a cracked voice, I told her what King Douche had said. Then she started crying. I was able to hold back the tears.

Why? you might ask. Because, gentle readers, it is perfectly acceptable for a man to cry. It is decidedly unacceptable for a man to cry in the middle of the Wal-Mart in Hermitage, Tennessee.

4) Here are some more pictures:

5) As you can see, Emsley is looking more and more like Kami. Don't see it? Check this out:

The photos on the left column are Kami's baby pictures. The photos on the right are Emmy's pictures from the last couple of weeks.

We used to read a lot

If you were to ask me what my favorite things are, and said "Being a husband" and "Being a dad" were not allowed, I would tell you three things, in no particular order: Watching baseball, listening to music, and reading (Well, there's another thing. But I'm not going to list that one.)

Let's look at these in order:

Watching Baseball
I still get to do this, to an extent. As you likely know, I am (we are) a Houston Astros fan. One of two that I know in the greater Nashville area. They're so bad, and with moving to the American League West - what I believe is the toughest division in baseball - there was a guy on the radio in Nashville who was an Astros fan, but switched to the Cubs. Which is like deciding to not get burned by hot oil in favor of getting burned with hot wax.

ANYway. We determined that MLB.tv was an unnecessary expense this summer - and most likely an expense that would be left dormant, meaning that I wouldn't necessarily be able to watch the Astros. And since I take each and every one of the Astros' losses (and they are many) personally, it just wouldn't do.

So if there's a "good game" on television, we might watch a few innings. While I can certainly watch the Royals and Twins play a game in September - not that they would be on tv - I don't want to do that to Kami. We haven't watched much baseball this season.

Listening to Music
I do this quite a bit. We have Mog, which is incredible. I don't mind paying $5/month for unlimited streaming music, because I listen at work for 8-10 hours a day (and I have Residual Napster Guilt). This hasn't dropped off. And I can play Emsley our ten favorite albums, which are (and this is tough for me, because 4-10 change on a daily basis):

1) The Pernice Brothers, "Yours, Mine and Ours"
2) Elbow, "The Seldom Seen Kid"
3) U2, "Achtung Baby"
4) The Broken West, "I Can't Go On I'll Go On"
5) Will Hoge, "Blackbird on a Lonely Wire"
6) Gomez, "Bring It On"
7) Josh Rouse, "Nashville"
8) Radiohead, "OK Computer"
9) Wilco, "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot"
10) Rufus Wainwright, "Want One"

Honorable Mentions:
11) Danger Mouse, "The Grey Album" (I have White Love for Jay-Z. One of our biggest regrets is not going to see Jay-Z at Madison Square Garden when we lived in Cooperstown. It would have made for a miserable day at work, getting back to Coop at 5am, but ohsoworthit).
12) Mike Farris, "Salvation in Lights"

Reading
And this is where we stop. Because we're big readers. We absolutely love to read - (Myself? Mainly non-fiction, and the weirder the better.) Let's continue with the pattern of my favorites:

1) Truman Capote, "In Cold Blood"
2) Erik Larson, "Devil in the White City"
3) Jon Krakauer, "Into Thin Air"
4) Nick Hornby, "Fever Pitch" (not the bastardized Jimmy Fallon bullcrap)
5) James L. Swanson, "Manhunt"

Yeah, I like Fiction. Anything by James Lee Burke. The Count of Monte Cristo. But, I love Erik Larson like a brother. I want to be Erik Larson. Perhaps you've heard of him: Isaac's Storm, Thunderstruck, Devil in the White City. Larson takes huge historical events and finds intensely personal experiences that completely sum up that huge event. He writes deeply engaging histories, which is what I ultimately, desperately want to do (I also want to host a bizarre history travel show, for anyone who has any pull with that sort of thing).

The Nashville Library is set up where you can download Kindle Books to your tablet, and I have a crap tablet, which I use to read Cracked.com, check my work email, and read Kindle Books. I'd read a book a week, on average. Sometimes more, but whatever. Erik Larson recently wrote a book called In the Garden of Beasts, about the family of the American ambassador to Germany in 1933 (including his slutty daughter, but that's neither here nor there. Seriously, she banged her way across Berlin like a firecracker). It's fantastic. Yet, I've had to check it out three times, because I can't get through it. Why?

Because there's just not time. I'm pretty sure Kami reads for six minutes a day, now. I could read when I get home from work, but that's when I get Daddy/Emmy Time. I could read when she goes to bed, but that's when I get James/Kami Time ("Daddy/Kami" time sounds weird). So I have two options:

1) Read in the morning. This is an attractive option, but I need time to stretch out my bum right ankle and bum right knee, and I also need two cups of coffee to remember my name. Yet, reading about Nazis is a little heavy at 5am - and I don't want to carry that around when I get Daddy/Emmy Time, after she wakes up (around 6am).

2) Read at night. This is that I've been doing. There's what I call "Dark Mode," which is way more sinister than it sounds, with the white font on black background, and it works great, because Kami falls asleep immediately before waking up three hours later, and every 90 minutes after that to check on Emsley. I sleep like I have a head-trauma.

So I try to read at night. But after nine weeks of having this book, I'm only 27% of the way through it. I make sure that I fall asleep before I turn it off, so this morning I woke up at 12:45am with my head still on my hand - dead asleep, and freezing cold. With a neck cramp.

Get used to it. I'll be reading about Nazis in nine hours. Guaranteed.

Two month review: The least-helpful things people will say when you're pregnant

And so tomorrow Emsley will be, unbelievably, two months old. It's quite hard to believe. I've remarked that Kami and I have been together for almost ten years, and it's the longest we've ever been with someone on a regular basis that we haven't wanted to bite their noses. I've held Emsley every day for hours at a time for two months now. I've had spit-up ("throat milk," as I disgustingly call it) in my beard, poo on my forearm like I'm wearing elbow gloves, and I still go over the speed limit to try to get home as quick as I can to see my girls.

It feels like this whole process started last week, when in fact we've been preparing for Emsley for almost a year now (well, we've been preparing to be parents since the day we got married, but you know what I mean). A lot of people gave us advice - most of it good advice. Still, there were some things we heard that were just not helpful in the slightest. For instance:

"You have no idea the amount of pain you're going to be in"

Multiple people actually offered this little nugget. Of course, they were all referring to Kami - you know how many craps people give about how the dad feels? Zero craps. You know, if I walk around in the middle of the night, there's an 80% chance I'm going to hit something with the side of my knee. The certainty somehow makes it worse - as if I'm trying to be careful, but just can't keep from hurting myself. Glancing the corner of a chair with the outside of your ankle hurts, but it hurts even more when you're moderately sure it's actually going to happen.

Kami has a Spanish Inquisition-level of tolerance for pain. Kami was never under any sort of impression that she'd be able to make it to the YMCA for a spinning class two hours after giving birth. Still, I'm reminded of a line from Friends, where they say, "Is that your nostril? Pardon me while I push a pot roast through it." (Or something along those lines). You know who goes into labor thinking, "I bet this will be a breeze,"? NOBODY.

But the ends justify the means. Yes, it'll be painful, but there will be a beautiful little baby girl at the end of it. Like sliding down a rainbow to a pot of gold, if the rainbow is labor and contractions. But the fact that someone thought it would be ohsohelpful to go out of their way to say, "However much you think you're going to hurt - you might as well slap yourself in the nose with a hammer, because your tiny little squirrel brain can't fathom the pain you're going to feel." It's also incredibly self-serving, as though there's a club at the airport where the preferred guests get to slide a card and have access to orange juice and massages and teddy bears - and Kami just isn't going to be able to get in.

You don't tell someone, "You have no idea the amount of pain you're going to be in," without adding a little, "But I do NANNY NANNY BOO BOO" at the end. I hope they find a dead cockroach in their underwear. At the end of the day.

"You're going to be so tired."

Do I enjoy getting up for 60-90 minutes in the middle of the night for no reason? Absolutely not. I prefer to go to sleep, snap my fingers, and it be 5:30am (which isn't too far from what actually happens). But Emsley is not "no reason." Was I tired in the first few weeks of Emmy's life? Of course. If you're not tired in the first few weeks of having a child, then you need to help more - and I'll tell you that now so your wife doesn't have to, because that will be a shrill, one-sided conversation. And "conversation" indicates that there are two people talking - there won't be. You'll just stand there, holding a bottle, wishing you could somehow crawl into it.

I've talked before about sleep, and not sleeping, when having a baby. But the fact is, you'll be up in the middle of the night. It's just how it goes. But what the heck else are you supposed to do? It's not like your brother-in-law is in the other room crying to wake you up so you can bring him a sandwich. It's not as though you have to help a guy move in the middle of the night. As exhausted as we were the next day, there was something special about those 3am feedings. I'd sit with the tv off (because there is nothing worth watching at 3am - and you can only watch "Quick Pitch" on the MLB Network so many times) and just watch her eat. I'd rather not look back at these early days and say, "I don't really know what happened those first few months, because I couldn't drag my rear end out of bed, but at least I am rested." Of course we're going to be tired.

"Your life is going to change so much."

You mean that the part of our life where only our dogs were dependent on us, and we could run off to a concert, or to Atlanta for the weekend, any time we wanted? That's different now? You. Don't. Say.

Introducing a baby, whom - by the grace of God - we were able to create together has changed our lives, yes. But it has not changed in ways that we could not foresee. We knew we'd stay home more. We knew we'd probably not watch the rest of Band of Brothers while she is awake. We'd take it easy on horror movie binges. We knew we'd, yes, be tired.

Perhaps the only thing I wasn't expecting was how much I could love something that weighs ten pounds. I wasn't expecting how much deeper my love for Kami would grow with Emmy's addition (I didn't know that my love for her could grow deeper). So if that's what they meant, then, okay. I can see that. But no point have I thought, "This kid is great, but I really had my heart set on going to see Josh Rouse..."

So the next time you talk to someone who is pregnant, and their significant other, just remember this list. What should you say? Stay tuned...

Traveling With Emsley

So this weekend we embarked on our first Great Journey with Emsley. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. Kami's grandfather is not doing well - at all. So we needed to go to Duncan, Oklahoma (about an hour south-southwest of Oklahoma City) to visit.

We decided to rent a car. Our Santa Fe, whom I am now calling "Jondiss," has 115,000 miles on it. And we're driving on borrowed time regarding the timing belt. And I'll be crunked if I'm going to need a new timing belt in the Middle of Nowhere, AR at the end of August with a 6-week old and a dainty wife in the car.

So we rented a car. A Chevy Cruze, in which they sacrificed common comfort for gas mileage. Here's the conversation I had with the rental car lady at 7:10am on Friday, before going to work for four hours:

Rental Car Lady: "Where are you headed?"
Me: "Oklahoma."
Rental Car Lady: (Checks my license) "Do you still live in Hermitage?"
Me: "Yes, ma'am."
Rental Car Lady: "Do you need a map of Nashville?"
Me: "No, ma'am."
Rental Car Lady: "Why not?"
Me: "Because, as I said, I live here. And I'm going to Oklahoma."

Off we went, about noon. Given that we were going to need to stop every few hours for Emsley (and mommy and daddy) to stretch, eat, burp, hold her butt up in the air so I could change her diaper, and get back on the road.

In Plumerville, Arkansas, we stopped so Emsley could eat. Plumerville, Arkansas, if you didn't know, is in 1963. A gentlemen in a Jewish Games t-shirt and cut-off jean shorts (he was a goatee away from a George Michael tribute show) told us how it cost him $500 to have three teeth removed - which means he was three under par among people in Arkansas (HEY-O). He had seven kids, and nine grandchildren. We know this, because he told us, unsolicited. (There was also a four-year old girl, who waited outside while her mother loaded up an armful of beef jerky. Seriously we couldn't have been in Arkansas more. The girl said she was dirty. When Kami asked why, she replied, "Cuz I rolled around in dirt!" And this is the state boasting the allegedly fourth-best college football team in the country.)

On Friday night, our options were as such: Drive until 2am to Duncan, or stop in Sallisaw with Kami's uncle at 10pm. We voted for the 10pm option, and stayed the night. Kami slept about an hour and a half. Why? We don't have a Pack 'N' Play, so Emsley slept in the bed while Kami obsessed over the remote possibility of rolling over on her. (Of course, she would never do such a thing. I, however...) I slept in a different bed, and don't remember anything about that night.

We left Sallisaw at 6am Saturday morning. And what do you know? Guess who forgot the diapers? We had to stop at a Wal-Mart in Shawnee, Oklahoma to get more - delaying us further. Ultimately, we made it to Duncan at about 11am Saturday.

It was a great visit. Everybody from the family was there, and it was truly a celebration of life, with Kami's grandparents, five kids, eight grandkids, five great-grandkids in attendance. I took a nap.

There was a period of time where we thought Kami might stay in Texas for the week. Kami's brother and his wife are planning on driving to Nashville with Harper, Emsley's six-month old cousin, for Labor Day weekend. So, for long enough that I completely unloaded the car, Kami and Emsley were going to stay in Texas and hang out while she didn't have to work. But then, with the realization that Kami's parents have the first week of school starting today (Monday), and the possibility that we would be faced with a last-minute plane ticket from Dallas to Nashville should they not be able - for whatever reason - to make the trip, she decided to come back with me.

As an aside, the best pancake syrup - ever - is Griffin's. It's only sold in Oklahoma, presumably because the don't like money. Or "Market Share." So I went to Goodner's Grocery Story in Duncan to buy a bottle of Griffin's. If I may, I dubbed the Goodner's as the Most Depressing Place on Earth. If you move the frozen boxes of fish sticks on the sixth of eight aisles, you may very well find a portal to hell. The most premium alcohol sold at Goodner's is Smirnoff Ice.

Sunday morning, 21 hours after we arrived, we got in the car to drive off, back to Nashville. I thought I knew what lay ahead - Google Maps said it was 12.5 hours from Duncan to Nashville. That's preposterous, and we knew it. I know for a fact that there are two Starbucks off the interstate in between Oklahoma City and Nashville. The first is in Oklahoma City, just off of I-240. The other is in Conway, Arkansas. At Oklahoma City, I had to go to the bathroom. Kami and Emsley were asleep. We still had about 13 hours in front of us, and I could use 20 ozs of coffee. I thought I was in the clear.

I was wrong.

In the four minutes it took me to get a coffee and go to the bathroom, Emsley woke up and got fussy. "Nuclear" would appropriately describe Kami's reaction to my actions. The combination of the timing of the stop - a mere 90 minutes after we left, Kami being in the middle of a very emotional weekend, a combined five hours of sleep over the previous two days, and my douchiness were the detonators.

An hour later, after Emsley had eaten, and had a diaper change, we were off. Some jacknut trucker had driven his transport truck into a guardrail, and I-40 east of OKC to one lane. We stopped off again in Sallisaw to show off Emsley to Kami's other set of grandparents, and spent two hours there. There was a six-mile stretch in Arkansas where Emsley simply couldn't get enough to eat, so we stopped at two McDonald's to feed her. Oh yes, and 22 mosquitoes found their way into the car when I opened the door - eight of which bit me on my toe knuckles. There's nothing acceptable about Arkansas.


When I got the rental car, I pre-paid the last tank of gas, which they were offering at $3.15/gallon. Considering that the cheapest we paid the whole trip was $3.49/gallon, that was a good call. It also means that I was very interested in letting the car run out of gas as I pulled up to the drop-off. So in an effort to keep Emsley asleep (with Kami next to her in the back seat), I didn't stop from west of Memphis all the way to Nashville. This stretch of highway is the pit of hell. Thanks to barbeque sunflower seeds and MLB Network Radio, and seven hours of sleep the night before (because Emsley slept through the night), we made it back home at 12:52am - 16 hours after we left. And the alarm went off at 5:50 this morning. I returned the car with 8 miles left in the tank.



The final tally: 1600 miles in 61 hours with a six-week old. That's 26 miles per hour, even while we were stopped, visiting, and sleeping. And I got fussier than Emsley did - she was an absolute angel. It was a quick trip, but a necessary one. Emsley may not remember the weekend we spent with Poppy, but we all will.

No way it's been almost six weeks

So little Emsley will be six weeks old on Wednesday. That makes absolutely no sense, though I realize that I'll be saying that for the next 30+ years. While I apologize that it's been so long since you and I have had a little chat, in fairness (to me), we've been a little busy.

Here's what I've learned over the course of the past 5 1/2 weeks:

1. Sleeping. Emsley sleeps pretty great. She fights her naps during the day, which means that she crashes out pretty hard at night. Over the past two weeks or so, she has evolved from two-a-nights to one feeding during the night. Ever more occasionally, she sleeps between 10pm-4:30am. My alarm typically goes off a little after 5am, so I get up with her, and feed her for the early-morning feeding times.

 Here's what I have noticed about my sleeping habits, though. I don't need much sleep - if I get around six hours of sleep a night, I'm generally pretty good (until I do that for 2-3 months, and then I get sick). But I have noticed that I have been in the habit of getting those six hours all at once.

 The day Kami went into labor, we had been up since 4:30am. Kami because she couldn't sleep, me because Brown Dog woke me up because he was chewing his own rear end so loud, it disturbed my slumber. Her water broke later that afternoon, and we were up all night, and then most of the following day. At 10pm I was sitting on what felt like a liferaft (uncomfortable, and waterproof), had been up for 39.5 out of about 40 hours, and recall thinking, "This is odd. The room seems to be turning 90 degrees to the right." And I woke up three hours later, face-down on the liferaft, covered in drool - hence the "waterproof" note, it had pooled up just under my nose.

Anyhow, getting two three-hour naps puts the hurt on my day...

Which leads to the second thing I've learned...

2. It's not about me. I'm an only child, and Kami has spent the last 9+ years conditioning Only Child Syndrome (symptoms include feet-stamping and extreme pouting) out of me. But something has come over me, where I'm typically more than happy to just do things for Kami and Emsley. Whether that's laundry, dishes, cleaning bottles, or sterilizing pacifiers - it's all pretty awesome, because I get to be a dad and help Kami out. And it's almost a badge of honor to look like I'm one meeting away from falling out of my chair and falling asleep on the floor (I have learned to work through lunch, and then go somewhere cool and quiet to take a 20-minute nap). If someone at work asks, "Hey, are you okay? You just ripped that guy's throat out...quite literally, unfortunately." You can say, "Ah. Baby duty. I've been up since 3:45." And all is well. Having a child is a solid excuse for poor social behaviour.

3. Coming home from work to your wife and kid is pretty much the best thing ever.

4. I can't swaddle to save my life. But that's okay, because Emsley hates being swaddled. When she was first in the hospital, the nurses would swaddle her (because at one point I cried out at 2am, "Jeebus! It's like trying to put pants on an octopus!" They came in pretty quick after that. Kami may have dinged the button while I fought back tears.) and within five minutes Emsley would throw her feet up like a V-Up Roll-Up from P90X. I know that's from P90X because I've done the first week like eight times. Emsley, being, 9lbs 7ozs was obviously a little cramped. So she slept cross-legged. Having slept cross-legged for so long, she did not like to have her legs swaddled up. Even in her sleep sack - perhaps the greatest sleeping invention ever, seriously, I'd pay $67.95 for an adult sleep sack - she sleeps cross-legged.

5. Emsley is the perfect combination of Kami and myself. She's just so beautiful, just like her mommy. Funny thing is, Emsley sleeps with her arms above her head - like so ---->

At night, I like to read for about 30-45 minutes before going to bed. So the other night, I went to bed after Kami did, and I leaned over to give Kami a kiss. And lo and behold, Kami's arms were in the exact same position.

6. This is going to be totally awesome. And I'm going to write about it more.

Off to the pediatrician!

So...today was Pediatrician check-up day - which means that Kami (and Emsley) were able to get out of the house for the first time since they were sent home from the hospital.

This is a big thing for Kami because she's a beach/ocean/summer girl. I love the summer, I hate being cold, but my temperament is more suited to staying indoors, drinking coffee, and reading. I hated the physical cold of living in New York, but there was something pleasant about a blizzard that kept me inside (since it gave me an excuse not to be outside doing things, like working out). Another winter of that and I'm reasonably to moderately sure Kami would have murdered me.

Here's a cartoon representation of Kami:

And here's me:

Yep. Kami is a human Care-Bear Stare. Yet for the last couple of weeks it has been so hot that I think I saw Dante walking around in capri pants and a tank top (I guess on this level of hell, Dante is a little effeminate). Then we go into the hospital, which didn't have much sunlight in the delivery room. And then it rained for five days (which was great, but didn't provide much in the way of sunlight). So there hasn't been much Vitamin D around our place.

With the trip to the pediatrician on tap, Kami was quite excited to get out - even if it was to a doctor's office. Something I'm going to have to be better about is getting Kami (and Emsley) out of the house, and getting some sunshine. Whether that's pulling out the Baby Bjorn for Kami to use, since we've already addressed the fact that the Baby Bjorn on me makes me look like Baby Boudin, and taking Gunther and Angus out for a walk, then that's what it will be.

(Gunther, by the by, is not used to being on the lower half of the totem pole. Gunther, who is Kami's spirit animal, is having a hard time figuring out why he can't sleep on the bed. Angus, who is my spirit animal, my dark passenger, is loving not being anywhere near the fringe of attention.)

Ah yes. Emsley was born at 9lbs 7ozs. Today she was 7lbs 15ozs, so she's lost some weight, but because she was born so big - and because Kami had received so many fluids, the pediatrician isn't all that concerned. We do have to go back on Thursday for another weigh-in. A successful weigh-in, and she'll fight Manny Pacquiao on September 4.

Oh, and Emsley is perfect. Sorry I'm not sorry.

The most magical thing I've ever seen.

So, yes, it's been a few days since posting anything here - and in between the last update (which, I believe, was about 7am on Wednesday) and now, Emsley Bryn came into the world. Let's go back and revisit how this all happened, eh?

Kami's mother flew in last Friday (July 6). My dad flew in on Monday, when we had our doctor's appointment where we figured Inducing was an option. If you recall, our air-conditioner went out during the heat wave, and we had not yet fixed it. So on Tuesday morning, the day before the scheduled inducing, my dad and I dropped our car at the dealership, went to lunch - where we talked about impending fatherhood - went to the vet to get pills for Gunther, and went to the library. Gunther woke me up at 4:30am. Kami had been having stronger-than-normal contractions that morning, but since she had the Uterus That Cried Wolf, we didn't think much of it.

We got back to our place, and were talking, and my dad wanted to go get a nap, get some dinner, and go to bed early, since we had to be at the hospital about 6:45am on Wednesday. He, of course, rented a car at the airport, so we talked about when he was going to pick us up to go to the hospital (since Kami's mom had to take her rental car back that morning). It was determined that we should keep his rental car overnight. We could pick him up in the morning and then go to the hospital, but he wasn't comfortable with us not having a car within 18 hours of being induced.

That turned out to be a pretty good call.

As I was on my way back from dropping him at his hotel, I got a call from Kami's mom that said, "Kami's water broke-" And she may have said something else. I don't know, because I hung up on her (probably the only time that it's perfectly acceptable to hang up on your mother-in-law). Kami was getting ready to take a nap, laid down on the bed, felt a Pop, and when she went to the bathroom, the water started.

We packed up the car and drove off to the hospital. I called my dad twice, left voicemails, texted a couple of times, to no avail. In true Yasko fashion, he was indisposed due to a bathroom necessity. So we sped off to the hospital, bags in the trunk, Kami in the passenger seat, Kim in the back.

Had the rental car been a DeLorean, we would have been transported on I-40, because I looked down and was, indeed, hitting 88mph.

I had called Baptist to let them know we were on our way, and we arrived a little before 3pm. Kami was taken into a delivery room with the contraction monitor on her, and we waited. Our first nurse had trouble getting the computer to work, which was frustrating, because...for every reason, actually.

So we waited. Kami had been dilated to 3cm on Monday, and by Tuesday afternoon, she was about 3.5cm dilated. We waited, and it was slow going.

Kami had a plan to go all-natural: local anesthetic, no epidural. Around midnight, after what had essentially been 16 hours of labor, and progressing to 5cm, that plan had to be abandoned. The pain from the contractions was so bad, Kami was shaking and sweating. A wrinkle on which we had not planned was Kami's scar tissue from her surgery in December 2008 was burning with each and every contraction - or every three minutes for about seven hours. It was untenable.

In the meantime, we settled in for what was going to be a long night. Kami was far more comfortable after the epidural, and she was able to doze off from time to time. I just watched her.

Around 2am, Kami still hadn't progressed very far, and the nurse said that she would be checking with the doctor (oh yes, the Good Doctor was not going to be delivering Emsley, unless she waited until after 7am - which wasn't a very thrilling possibility.

Around 4:30am, Kami finally made it to 9cm and 100% effaced. So we're thinking, "Hey, we'll be done with this here pretty soon." It so happened that was not to be. However, when the shift change happened, our new nurse came on, and the Good Doctor was, in fact, on duty.

Okay, about 9am, Kami still was not progressing, and every ten minutes there was a differing opinion on whether or not Kami could deliver Emsley on her own, or would need a C-Section. They had been pushing pitocin to help the contractions along. For about an hour there was second opinions and 3rd opinions on getting her through the birth canal. Dr. Smallwood came in, checked her out, advised Kami to try to push, and see how things worked out. Two hours later, she was still pushing, and - oh yeah - the epidural was wearing off. Rather than re-upping on the pain meds, the Good Doctor said that, another half-hour, and she just might be able to have the baby. She kept pushing.

He came back 30 minutes later (this would be about 12:15pm on Wednesday) and said, "Well I guess we're ready," to which Kami replied, "C-Section?" to which he replied, "No, you're about to have a baby."

I'll save you some of the details, but that day was the most magical thing I've ever seen. In the seconds after she was born, everyone in the room - nurses included - was crying. Kami was a rock star, pushing through the possibility of a C-Section (just because she didn't want to. She sort of does what she wants, and get what she wants.)

Emsley Bryn Yasko was born at 12:46pm, 22 hours after we arrived at the hospital, and was 9lbs 7ozs, and 21.25" long. Yeah, she's a big 'un. And she's absolutely gorgeous. When they put her on Kami's chest, we all just fell apart. I was able to hold her while Kami slept a little...and, yeah, I'm toast.

We ended up going to sleep about 10pm on Wednesday night, which means that we were up for about 40 of 41 hours - which I'm sure won't be the last time, but it was totally worth it.

I realize that was a very detailed, emotion-less account of the events of July 10/11, but this just needed to get on record. There will be more to come in the next few days: thoughts, reactions, delusions, things of that nature. Just for now, though, Emsley: We're so glad you're here, and I would be happy to go through all of that again, just to kiss your sweet face.

7am Update

Kami was able to sleep in snatches from 4-5:30 this morning. I slept from 5:30-5:55 (but that doesn't matter).

That 6cm mark was brutal. Took hours to progress. But with the 6:45 checkup, we found that Kami was all the way to 9cm and 100% effaced. So now we get excited to wait a little bit longer. And perhaps shut an eye or two.

Update

The first talk that I have with Little Miss Emsley is going to be about having some DADGUM RESPECT for the human body's cycle. Check the time. Go ahead, I'll wait. Got it? Yep - been up for 21 hours straight.

I know - this won't be the last time I'm up for 21 hours. And I know - Kami's way worse off than I am. She's the one doing the actual work. Even typing this out makes me any body part you're thinking. That said, I'm 32 years old. If I stay up to watch Walking Dead, I'm worthless until Tuesday. At this rate, I'll only just have recovered in time for her to go to prom.

Anyhow, strange thing: Kami's heart rate goes down during contractions. Our nurse said that, were her heart rate actually the baby's heart rate, it would be a cause for concern. As it is, Kami is 6cm dilated, and so we wait...

9:25pm update

Alright - we've been here for about 6.5 hours, and Kami is now 5cm dilated.

She's doing great. Dominating ice chips. A  couple of Popsicles.

I helped her take a shower, then I took the liberty of getting in and cleaning up, since that was what I was going to do when I got back to the house. It was lovely.

Kami's doing great because, as you already know, she's a rock star.

More later.

It's Baby Time

So Emsley decided she did not want to wait to be induced, and her water broke about 2:50pm.

My dad and I had lunch, took the car to the shop, and I had dropped him off at his hotel. He was going to pick us up tomorrow morning, but talked us into keeping his rental. This was a good decision.

I was on my way back from the hotel when Kami's mom called to say her water had broken. I may, or may not, have used a mild expletive and punched it to the house.

We loaded everything up and were out the door within ten minutes.

So now we're in the Labor Room, and Kami's at 4-5cm dilated. I'm trying to guess as to when to make jokes, and I haven't been entirely successful.

More later.

What do you do now?

Another day, another visit to the Good Doctor. Over the weekend, Kami began having spikes in her blood pressure, mixed in with contractions, panic attacks, and...oh yeah, IT'S BEEN 150 ******* DEGREES OUTSIDE.

Thus, we were really looking forward to visiting this morning (especially with The Mother-In-Law coming with us as the Not-So-Secret Weapon), as we were fully expecting to get kicked over to Labor & Delivery ("L&D" as those in The Know call it) to be induced.

But first, a few notes about the visit:

*First of all, we got in to see the doctor in record time. After three visits of 90-120 minute waits to see the doctor, we got in within 20 minutes.

*Kami's blood pressure was up again - 145/95. Not "dangerous," but "not great."

*She also lost another pound - from Thursday - bringing her three-week weight loss to 12 pounds. I'm the ying to her yang.

So when the Good Doctor came in, he noted her elevated blood pressure, heard our concerns about the panic attacks and BP spikes, etc. And he presented us with two options:

1. Ride it out. Let nature take its course over what could possibly be two weeks.

2. Induce. Kami's innards are to the point where there isn't a big concern about the her, or Emsley's, health. There is a slight risk that, when they induce, they'll have to do a C-Section (of which, we supposed, there is always a slight risk).

He gave Kami the option of what she wanted to do - and she was not prepared to have to make that decision. Rather than be That Guy who butts in and says, arms pumping, "LET'S INDUCE!" I stayed quiet. So Kami felt like inducing was the best option, mainly in terms of not being completely mentally annihilated when Emsley does show up. So Kami looked at me and asked, "What do you think about inducing?" And I (foolishly) replied: "There isn't any baseball on until Friday, so let's do it."

And with that, we head to Baptist hospital at 6:15am Wednesday for our own Induction Day.

So, what would you do for the next 36 hours?

Friday morning update

Hey, let me tell you what was fun: Driving to the hospital at 2:30pm when it's 102 degrees outside, with the windows down. It felt like a dadgum hair dryer, or maybe one of those Excelerators - the high-speed car-wash dryer that you try not to let peel the skin off your hands - blowing in the car.

Quick car update: The Goodyear place couldn't find the source of why the A/C isn't working, as it's apparently an electrical issue. So it has to go to the dealer. I could get into one dealership, but they didn't have a loaner car available, and with the timing of the doctor's visit, it didn't make sense. We'll have to deal with the car later.

Wednesday night Kami had contractions 4-5 minutes apart for the better part of three hours. We called the hospital, who told us to call the on-call doctor (who happened to be the Good Doctor) and ask him what we should do. He said to walk around for a while and see if they tapered off. They did. Unbelievably.

Anyhow, another trip to see the Good Doctor, another high blood pressure reading - this time 148/98. So we were sent home with explicit instructions to check her blood pressure and call back in the morning (this morning). It had come down, but not too far - still not enough to induce today.

That said, we have to go back to the Good Doctor on Monday, which will be about 39.5 weeks. If her blood pressure is high again, then it's likely they'll induce either Monday afternoon or Tuesday morning.

Kami is dilated 3cm and 80% effaced. If you didn't know - and I didn't know - effacement is basically the thinning out of the cervix (or, as JustMommies.com unsettlingly puts it, "the ripening of the cervix"). The fact that Kami's cervix is 80% effaced means that it is currently 20% it's normal thickness, which apparently means that this show is about to get on the road.

The 3cm dilated is interesting, as she was dilated about 1.5cm last week. When Kami gets to 4cm dilated, she's transitioning from Early Labor to Active Labor. Had she been 5cm dilated, we would have been sent over to Labor & Delivery.

Regardless, Kami's mom got into town this morning, and I'm quite surprised her water didn't break as soon as she walked in.

So there you have it. Last night was probably the final night (for a long while, anyway) where it was just Kami and myself. I realized that this morning. Had I realized that last night, I probably would have done something cooler than "Fall asleep at 10:15pm with Dave Eggers' new book on my face."

Patience has never been a virtue

Patience, n. A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue.
-Ambrose Bierce

This is getting ridiculous. I am so ready to meet little Emsley that I can barely stand it. But she just flat-out won't cooperate. (This will likely not be the last time this sentence is typed.)

Anyhow, an update. Short version: Kami's still pregnant.

Long version: Ever since we found out the due date, I have really been pulling for Emsley to come early so that I can have a July 4th baby, history dork that I am. She'd get the day off every year. There would be fireworks for her every birthday. And, I'd get to tell her about 'merica. It's 1:30pm right now, so there's still a chance.

Yesterday Kami and I went and visited a pediatrician that also (a) goes to our church and (b) takes our insurance. So that's out of the way, because he's a nice guy. But on the way back from his office, the AC in our car started acting funny. And I mean "Funny" in that, "It stopped blowing out cold air." It was 4:55pm, the day before a national holiday. So I pulled into a Goodyear and their AC guy had just left about two minutes before we got there. This means we currently have a car that I will possibly have to drive to the hospital with a woman in labor, when it's 100 degrees outside, with the windows down. That'll be fun.

So last night, with today being a holiday, we took it quite easy and went off to bed around 11:30pm. From 3:30-6:45am, Kami was on the couch, with contractions every five minutes for an hour. Apparently she was THISCLOSE to coming and waking me up, but they then tapered off. This has been our pattern: Contractions close enough together to get me all worked up, think about making a cup of coffee, and then they taper off. Then we go to bed, and do it all over again.

I'm currently useless at work. I can't focus. Luckily I have enough busy work that I can get through the day without feeling like I'm stealing. But every time Kami calls me at work, my heart jumps through my chest and out the door.

Ultimately, I know she's going to arrive when she wants, and that's something I'm going to have to get used to. But, this is most assuredly a minor form of despair.

Today in "You Gotta Be Kidding Me"

It's 10:55am, and it's already 99 degrees outside, feels like 103, and we're heading for a high of 105 degrees. Which means that we're pretty much stuck inside with the energy-saver curtains drawn, and fans scattered throughout the living room, because our air-conditioner, predictably, is having a tough time getting it below 80 degrees.

So this morning we decided to use someone else's air-conditioning, eating breakfast at Panera, which was lovely. And then Kami talked me in to taking her to get a pedicure. Which means that I was also talked into getting a pedicure. Which was lovely.

I had never had a pedicure before, and I was a little hesitant to get one. But I probably need to get knowledged-up about girly things (I already make a fine cup of tea - so that's taken care of.) See, and this is probably a little too much information, but I have a sweet foot and a sour foot. One foot is quite nice. One foot...not so much. Walking into the place, I sat down in a massage chair and immediately started apologizing, thinking of Dumb and Dumber the whole time. (There was a glitch in that the pumice stone was raked across the bottom of my big toe like a dad gum razor, which affected the enjoyment of the rest of the pedicure)

As I am likely going to need to know about Girly Things, Kami and I are going to be fighting over who gets to take Emmy to get pedicures. Because that was awesome.

On to the "You Gotta Be Kidding Me" part of today. Obviously, if Kami is going to be outside in 100+ heat, then it's going to be by the pool. But it's Saturday, so that means the pool is going to be packed. And full of people drinking. And since I can't beat them, or join them, that's not really an option right now.

The life-saver has been Netflix Instant. We've been watching Sons of Anarchy. A lot. Like, we're one episode from finishing the 3rd season (and we only started watching it about two weeks ago). And then Weather-mageddon hit Northern Virginia, and Netflix went down. It's been down since we finished the penultimate episode of Season Three. This is not a recipe for Happy Pregnant Lady.

(Incidentally, the weather provided a blueprint for terrorists. Want to immobilize America in lazy outrage? Knock out Netflix. We'll just complain on Facebook and Twitter, and then take a nap.)

So, to sum up:

1. Our toes are pretty.
2. We're stuck inside.
3. It's now 104 degrees.
4. With no Netflix.
5. And Gunther is so nervous - about something - that he's puked twice.
6. Nice little Saturday we have shaping up.

Things Pregnant Ladies Don't Like

Ooooh, we had our first real scare this morning.

Well now, things got a little hairy for a while today. It started at 5:15am, when I got up and creepily found Kami standing right behind me while I was making coffee where she whispered, "Boooo," and I almost crumped my pants. But I got the later laugh (it won't be the last, I'm sure) when she started having contractions 4:45-5:15 apart. Then I realized what that meant, and I got all stressed out all over again.

But Kami said that something felt different, so we took our hospital bags down to the car, I did some work, and we waited.

We had an appointment to see the Good Doctor at 10:15, anyway, so we went to our appointment to see what he thought. Kami had lost four pounds (which, apparently, is another sign of the End Times of Pregnancy), and he wanted to get a look at her blood pressure. The result? 139 over 98 - the highest that it had ever been in her life. She's more of a 120 over 80 kind of girl. This concerned the Good Doctor, because of the risk of preeclampsia. I nodded like I knew what that meant. I Googled it. Preeclampsia causes 76,000 maternal deaths and 500,000 infant deaths every year. And that's the conservative estimate (according to the website). He was quick to point out that one odd test does not necessarily a problem make. "Was there anything that had you keyed up more than usual this morning?" he asked.

Let's see. Perhaps it was the 5-minute contractions. Perhaps it was the three wrecks on I-40 that led from what is normally a 15-minute drive from our place to the doctor's office to a 38-minute debacle. Perhaps it was the parking lot that was full, resulting in Valet Armageddon, and the stone cold b... um, lady in the Lexus SUV with personalized license plate, who was in such a hurry that she just turned her car off in line and walked in to the office, leaving the Valet guy screaming at the top of his voice after her to come back. Because we're suddenly in the Hamptons, apparently. Or it could have been that our appointment was at 10:15, and it was 11:00 before we got called in to see the doctor. Or it could have been that it was a further 90 minutes before the Good Doctor actually came in to talk to us. Maybe, JUST MAYBE, that could have led to such high blood pressure.

Regardless of the reason, Kami's blood pressure was too high. So he sent her to get a urine sample (which, at 38 weeks pregnant, she can produce on command) to check to see if there is protein in her urine. And then she went to get blood drawn, after which we were told that we would get the results this afternoon. The Good Doctor told us to check her blood pressure throughout the afternoon, and monitor it. The bottom number (diastolic, methinks) is the key. If it's near, or over, 90, then Kami would be considered Gestationally Hypertensive. The fear is that, with slightly swollen ankles and legs, there would be an issue with the mother's liver and kidneys, which can cause problems for the baby, and in extreme cases (which doctors love to bring up) lead to a stroke. How do they resolve this? Inducing labor. Maybe tomorrow. I saw stars.

It was unresolved whether being 38 weeks pregnant, with the temperature approaching 105 degrees, had anything to do with the swollen ankles.

We got the go-ahead to go ahead and eat lunch, but stay close by for the results. We got a blood pressure cuff from Walgreen's, and took her blood pressure. Result? 142 over 89. Lower, but not by much. We ate lunch. Checked it again. 135 over 75. Much better.

The results came back that Kami's bloodwork was fine, and there was no protein in her urine, thus no risk for preeclampsia. Seems as though maybe The Most Frustrating Morning of the Month had something to do with the elevated blood pressure, after all.

In other news, when the nurse wasn't looking, I slipped out and got on the scales. I've gained 17 pounds during Kami's pregnancy. Not good. But also, not as bad as I was expecting. I blame the Cabo Burrito I ate last night.

Christmas Eve

Before we all get too excited, calling this "Christmas Eve" does not necessarily mean that tomorrow is Baby Day. I got an email today with someone telling me that coming home from work to your wife and baby made every day feel like Christmas. I responded that it made sense as every day now feels like Christmas Eve: I can't focus, I can't concentrate, I can't do anything to take my mind off of the fact that any day now we're going to head off to the hospital. And there's not even some crap bowl game to occupy my time. I just time contractions on my phone.

Speaking of contractions, they've sort of been all over the place - but getting closer together. A few days ago they were 15 minutes apart, then 12 minutes, then 10 minutes. Last night they were running about 60-90 seconds in duration, and about 7-7.5 minutes apart. I could have sworn that - back in Birthin' Class - they said to go ahead and get ready to come to the hospital when they were 6-8 minutes apart for two hours. So I called the on-call doctor at Baptist, and was told that, no, wait until they're about five minutes apart for an hour. Off to bed.

So this evening, Kami was running about 6m 45s apart, and I went off and took a shower, washed my hair, and prepared for the impending two-day trip to the hospital. Except they slowed down, back to about eight minutes. So it's like the present was brought out from under the tree, laid down in my lap, and then picked back up and put back under the tree. (And, similar to Christmas Eve, I won't be able to sleep tonight. I was so sure that we were in for a long night that I made myself a quite large cup of coffee. Good thing I'm trying to finish a couple of different books.)

Anyhow, we're pretty much ready for Ms. Thang to come on out. Over the weekend we had to pick up a few things from Babies R Us. We got a sound machine for the nursery - which I am tempted to buy a second one so I can fall asleep to the soothing sounds of the ocean. However, if someone decides to be funny and turn on the rotating, glowing monkeys in a tree, then the Night Terrors will surely come. We also picked up a new bassinet mattress and sheet, because we were fairly certain that the sheet should not crumple up the bassinet mattress so that it looked more like Angus had alligatored the covers.

Oh, you're not familiar with alligatoring? Angus is quite good at it - I even saw him do it one. He starts by laying against your leg on top of the covers. Then, using the wedge of covers against your leg, he rolls, turning away from the outside of your leg, sometimes grabbing the covers with his teeth, so that it separates the covers from the leg, to the point where you wake up shivering, looking at a smiling, sleeping dog. So we bought a new bassinet mattress and sheet, and it fit much better than the other one.

We got blankets upon blankets, but we found ourselves walking through the blanket section, when I saw one that made me burst into tears. It was pink (honestly, we never pegged ourselves as such huge fans of the color pink, but Emsley's closet is like Strawberry Shortcake and a Care Bear got into a knife fight. Can't get enough pink.), but in the corner was embroidered, "Beautiful Like My Mommy." And I just couldn't handle it. Burst into tears right there in the middle of Babies R Us. (I bet it hasn't happened before. I bet I wasn't the first person to cry in Babies R Us that day. That hour, even.)

I'm sure I've mentioned this before but Kami is absolutely beautiful (like there was any doubt). From the moment I decided to propose, which will be 10 years ago this coming New Year's Eve, I knew she would make a wonderful mother. It took longer than we had expected; deep in my heart I questioned whether this day would come. I just cannot thank God enough for our experience - the good and the bad - and for Kami. Emsley will be beautiful, just like her mommy. Now if you'll pardon me, I have a blanket to buy.

We have dilation!

So one of my least favorite things, being of the glasses-wearing persuasion, is the part of the eye test where they dilate your pupils. Turns out there are no similarities between cervical dilation and pupil dilation. Much less stinging. Now we're almost 37 weeks - wait. I was under the impression that Kami was about 38 weeks. And when the Good Doctor said, "Hey - you're 37 weeks! Home stretch!" In my mind, the record stopped.

I said, "I was sort of under the impression that she was about 38 weeks." The Good Doctor looked over her file and said, "Yeah, the due date looks like it's about July 9." Which sucks, because I really want to meet Emsley. Anyhow the Good Doctor said, "Well let's check for dilation."

Sure enough, Kami is 1cm dilated. Having absolutely no idea how big a centimeter is (it's not, as Wikipedia corrected me, a meter with 100 legs), I looked it up. It's not big. It's small. Too small for a baby. But it is the beginning of the latent phase of labor. Active labor is 4cm, so another three meters with 100 legs and we're heading out. Not that I'd be able to tell...

Still, the contractions keep coming. On Monday night I could have sworn we were going to the hospital - contractions for about a minute, seven minutes apart. So sure were we that we cleaned our place. Our good friends Josh and Katie are going to handle Gunther and Angus while we're at the hospital, and Kami swore that they wouldn't come over to a messy apartment. So we cleaned. Except when we cleaned, that moved things around so the contractions slowed down.

The Good Doctor told us that the contractions would be more frequent, but likened the 1cm dilation to being "on the downhill with no brakes." My question - internally, because if I'm too cheeky with the Good Doctor, I get mean looks. And I do not want mean looks from a very pregnant lady in Tennessee in June - was, "what kind of vehicle is it?" Because if it's a pair of roller skates, well, there's no need to get too worked up. If I'm on the downhill in a Segway with no brakes, I won't fret. But if I'm on a Razor Scooter, then I'm going to be slightly concerned.

One thing, though: Emsley has been growing and moving around so much (and Kami is doing her best Sneezy Dwarf impression) that she's messing with the nerves in her back. So Kami has a pinched nerve and it, as you can imagine, does not feel good. When she asked the Good Doctor about it, he suggested heat and massage. Then he looked at me and said, "So, dad, you're going to have to get to work." Slightly insulted, I replied, "Oh, I've been working." Both Kami and the Good Doctor looked at me with pity. And some anger.

Still, being dilated one cm - while not a predictor of labor - does mean that we're on the way. And I can't wait to get this started, even if it means that I get punched. Off to massage Kami's back.

Wait. These are actual children's books?

Things are progressing. That's about all there is to say at this point. I could barely sleep last night because I had a dream that Kami's water broke. And England plays Ukraine today at 1:45. If her water could break today around 1:00, we could be at the hospital with ESPN on by 1:45. then we would embark on this wonderful journey!

Anyhow, one of the things I'm most looking forward to is Story Time. I cannot wait to read to Emsley every night, and I've already picked out a number of books I feel she needs to read, or have read to her: The Bible, of course. All the Sherlock Holmes stories. Harry Potter (eight, or so, years from now). Fever Pitch.

But there are some books that she will not, under any circumstances, be reading...

The Night Dad Went To Jail
Who Cares About Disabled People? (See it's companion piece, the Acts to this Luke, Who Cares About Elderly People?)
Children Are No Match For Fire
I Wish Daddy Didn't Drink So Much
The House That Crack Built
Joined at Birth: The Lives of Conjoined Twins
The Moose With The Loose Poops
Latawnya the Naughty Horse Learns to Say No To Drugs (for one thing, it's $393.62.)
Embalming is Not a Sport
How to Care for Your Giant African Land Snail

Maybe you've read these and found them immensely helpful when your kid went to school, saw conjoined twins sitting at the desk(s) next to them, and came home shaken to their very core. Or when you were out camping and came across a moose who had the trots, and weren't sure about the Smores you just ate. But it's not happening in this house.

The Express Train to Babyville

I know it's been a week or so since we last spoke, dear reader, and for that, I apologize. Let's recap, shall we?

Our respective mothers flew in from Texas last Friday, as it was Baby Shower weekend. This means that Thursday night we were up quite late doing laundry, cleaning up, and I put two coats of paint on the wall in the nursery where her crib will be. Once the nursery decorations are finished, I'll post a picture. For now, it sort of looks like an F1 tornado hit a Babies R Us.

During one of those showers, my mom and I stayed behind and tried to put together the crib. She's good at that sort of thing. I'm not. It still took us over two hours, and I need to put the stabilizer bar on it because I left it in the car and spent 25 minutes staring at two screws and silently pleading with them to fit. I may, or may not, have put Gunther in the crib to see if the mattress and springs would fall through the bottom. (It didn't.)

It was great having The Moms in town, as they took turns getting weepy with Kami, and telling her how beautiful she is - which is, of course, true. After the showers, we unloaded the car and arranged baby clothes by size, washed them, and hung them up in the closet. It's pretty cool.

Then the Bassinet came, and we put that together. There's an mp3 dock on the bottom, which will be awesome as the sweet sounds of Rammstein will gently rock her to sleep. But it was then that I realized that we are now on the Express Train to Babyville. 36 weeks ago, having Emsley come - though we didn't know her name at the time - was a very abstract thought. Kind of an, "Oh, I know she's coming, but it's down the road. There are a lot of things to get through before she arrives." Now, all of those "things" have come and gone, and now we're waiting, and I'm getting antsy. For example:

At church on Sunday, we were about to be dismissed when everyone was invited to stand for the closing blessing. Keep in mind, I had spent the previous week loading up clothes we don't wear anymore to take to Goodwill. And we donated, honestly, between 300-500 pounds of books to the library. And I know that getting rid of books doesn't sound like something we would do, but we are big library supporters, and honestly, if I haven't read that Salman Rushdie book that I've had on every nightstand I've owned for ten years, then I can just get it from the library when the mood strikes me. That did some damage to my dodgy left knee. So standing to be dismissed, I needed some help getting to my feet. I put my hand down to my right where Kami was sitting, and slopped it right in the middle of a huge, cold wet spot.

I do not know what broken water feels like. Looking back, I knew that it wouldn't be ice cold. But in my heart I was thinking, "Oh crap her water broke! Thank God our moms are here! She needs me to give her a piggy back ride to the car! And I can get to Baptist Hospital in 15 minutes from here!" All of those thoughts went through my mind in a matter of milliseconds. So I completely freaked out, gasped, coughed, even croaked out a "WHATISTHAT" at an inappropriate volume. Kami started laughing - her water bottle had leaked on the seat.

So I'm getting jumpy, and it's not going to get any better.

Oh Baby Bjorn can piss right off

Big weekend in Yaskoland coming up. My mom flew in from Houston this evening, and Kami's mom flies in later tonight, as it's Baby Shower weekend. Which feels weird, because you're basically sending invitations for people to buy you gifts. Don't get me wrong, I'll take it, but I feel pretty strange about the whole process.

So anyway, a lady that works with my mom was gracious enough to send a gift, which arrived today. We opened it, and it was the chocolate Baby Bjorn carrier thing. I could barely contain my excitement, as I was pretty jazzed up about it when registering for all the stuff.

I immediately put it on, except I had some trouble with the straps. See, I had a New Year's Resolution to lose 25 pounds that, unless I get a leg blown off in a random act of hillbilly separatist violence, isn't going to happen (in fairness to me: I've been trying, it's just that the new mattress is so comfortable, and Kami keeps putting ice cream in my hand. Well, in a cup, but she hands it to me.)

So I put it on, and had some trouble with it, because I did not realize that Baby Bjorn was a literal name. As in, only a 5'4", 120lb Swede named Bjorn could put it on and have room for anything but a postcard from Puerto Rico. Honestly, if I put Emsley in the Baby Bjorn as it was, it would look like someone squeezed a styrofoam cup of jello from the bottom. I grew despondent, and angry. This is America, dadgummit. Doesn't freaking skinny Bjorn know that we do things big here? Screw that guy. And his low-carb diet. And his lack of awareness of things like Chick-Fil-A's Spicy Chicken Sandwich.

Then I found out that I was using the Female Straps. So I used the Man Straps, and things worked out better. But for about six minutes, I was ready to declare war on Sweden. And Bjorn.

Birthing Classes: Day 2

That was a lot of things. For ten hours over Saturday/Sunday (with Saturday's recap published prior to this one), we sat in remarkably uncomfortable chairs at Baptist Hospital in Nashville and learned about baby things. Yesterday (Sunday), we went back and were immediately treated to a video showing a Caesarian Section (not named after Julius Caesar, as Wikipedia confirmed for me in the middle of the video).

As we ate dinner following the completion of the class, where I sincerely hope that we will be given priority delivery as a reward, we were discussing the pros/cons of taking said class. The Con list was small, and also petty:

*It was on a holiday weekend (which actually made it a little nicer, since we both at least have today off).
*It was long.
*The chairs weren't comfortable - and I'm not the one with a cantaloupe in my breadbasket.

But the Pros list was impressive:
*The class was very helpful.
*We learned valuable information, such as: where to park, where to take Kami after we park, what the room where she will deliver looks like, what the room where she'll be recovering looks like.
*You can bring music and/or DVDs with you for delivery. Not kidding: Kami wants to hear this song, this song, and this song while she is in labor. They all make Kami happy, the last one mainly because I karaoke'd it on a cruise ship in front of her entire family. That's a story for another time. And we'll have a separate post on the Mix du Hospital
*You can fly coach, meaning, the basic room, which includes a bed (for her), TV/DVD combo, bathroom, a couch for dad - I tried it out, it's not too bad - but give me 4-5 minutes and I can be asleep on a hardwood floor - and room service for her. For $100/night, you can upgrade to Business Class, where you get all of the above, but with a sofa-bed for dad, extra seating, and room service for both of us. In Coach, I have to scrounge up my own food. There was also an autographed Matt Hasselbeck jersey on the wall, if that means anything to anybody. You have to pay that at discharge - it can't just be tacked on to the bill. We signed up for one, because we had to do it yesterday, with the understanding that we can decline it when we get to the hospital because, you know, that's what will be on my mind: whether or not I can order room service. Kami and I have to discuss how comfortable she is with me leaving for 20 minutes to go get something to eat after she has our first-born child. Maybe I can bring a coffee pot. The milk will already be in the room.
*Baptist Hospital actually takes an impressive number of precautions against Baby Stealin'. When we come in for delivery, we are given bracelets. And when the baby comes, she is given a matching bracelet that they check before we leave. She'll also get a little tag on her foot with a GPS tracker. This is a much more effective system than my plan of marking the bottom of her foot with a Sharpie, just so I knew which one was ours. I don't know if that's reassuring that they take those steps, or if it's disconcerting that they had to take those steps in the first place. Bottom line: Ain't nobody stealin' my baby.
*Now I have a better understanding of what Kami will go through when it's Labor Day. I knew - theoretically - how a baby leaves the womb, but I wasn't sure how a watermelon actually came out of a lemon. Now I know. Sometimes, too much knowledge can be a bad thing, but in this case I'm assuming it's better not to be a bumbling idiot. The more you know...
*Ultimately, it was worth the ten hours/$125 because we just feel better for going. We know, purely from a physical surroundings point of view, what to expect. It's worth $125 just to know where to go when we do have to head to the hospital. I feel like a better parent, even if I'm more overwhelmed now than I was on Friday night.

One aside: perhaps you remember the March 22 post on me being emasculated by Kami, though - alledgedly - not on purpose. Well, it happened again yesterday. Dads were given a baby doll, which I doted on (naturally). And I was holding said doll, sort of being a little too stiff with it, and Kami whispered to me, "Use the football hold." I stared back at her blankly. And held her torso as though I was throwing a football. Kami says, and because of the shock, a little more loudly than I would have preferred, "Don't you know how to hold a football?!"* The guy behind me laughed, so I had to cut his throat. She took the baby, and held it like the Heisman Trophy pose. I said, "Well of course I know how to hold a football like that. 'Football hold' is too vague.'" But the damage had been done, and I now have to drive around Nashville to settle some scores.

All in all, it was a good weekend. Today I clean out the back of the car to put the stroller and car seat in, and we go to Lowe's to get some paint for her nursery. Five weeks to go, give or take.

(* - Kami disagrees with the telling of this story. Of course, if she told our Baby Story, many of the themes and details would be quite different. But this is my version, and you can't say you weren't warned.)

Regard this man, for he is not the same

This was taken this morning, prior to Day 1 of Birthing Classes (rescheduled thanks to stomach flu a couple of weeks ago). This picture, of me - naturally, shows a different man than the one who writes this now. For that man had never seen Crowning. This man has. I

So the class itself was quite helpful, teaching us a variety of useful things about distinguishing false labor from actual labor (if Kami's abdomen is as hard as the chair, it's for real. And those chairs were remarkably uncomfortable.) The videos of a natural birth compared to a birth with the help of an epidural were helpful, if only for me to realize that I need a lot of time for prayer in humble supplication for not being the one with the human growing in my tummy.

There's a pool going with Kami's family, apparently, on how long it will take me to pass out in the delivery room. Not "if" I will pass out, but "how quickly" will I pass out. Over/Under is apparently 3.5 minutes, so get your bets in now. It almost happened, but not when you would expect. The Crowning video was unpleasant, to be sure, but I wasn't close to vomiting or passing out. However, when they showed how the epidural works...that's when things got clammy and sideways. But I didn't throw up or pass out. The Puckett's Grocery Breakfast Burrito with extra jalapenos I ate, for about 15 minutes, felt as though it would be appearing for an encore. But everything stayed down.

Before we continue, everyone knows how the epidural works, right? They give you a pain blocker, and then run a needle into the outer part of your spinal column. In this needle is a tube that they leave in the outer part of your spinal column, which pumps paralysis into you. You can't really feel when you're pushing, what you're pushing for, and you allegedly have not a care in the world.

The lady next to us did not fare so well, and almost passed out at that point. Funny thing is, Kami - like me - felt more quease at the epidural video than the natural birth video, and almost passed out. One little fact they casually threw out is that 96% of Nashville women who deliver at Baptist Hospital have the epidural. Among the 20 or so couples in the class, Kami and another lady were the only ones not planning on the epidural. When Kami said she wasn't going to get one, everyone looked at her like she spat obscenities in German and then threw up down her shirt. Kami's tolerance for pain is quite high (it's at least as high as her tolerance for my snide remarks), she's stubborn as a mule, and is flat-out against having Paralysis pumped into her spinal column. I can't say I blame her. In the video of the natural childbirth, the guy (whom they refer to as The Coach, which is a title I wouldn't mind carrying over to the postpartum side of things) didn't do much but roll his wife around on an exercise ball, tell her she was doing great, that she was beautiful, and generally stay out of the way and not say anything stupid. I can do those things - it's my Thanksgiving Dinner job description.

Other helpful bits of tid included the advice not to come to the hospital when you first go into labor. Instead, you can go into the 1st stage of labor (there are three: early, transition, and HolyCrapIt'sHappening) for 8-12 hours. So wait until the contractions are evenly spaced out (I have it on my phone) and then come on in and get all labored up. It's also worth noting that the Starbucks in the cafeteria is not open on weekends. So in addition to the baby not needing to come between 7-9am due to traffic concerns, Emsley needs to come during the week, so I can get a decent cup of coffee. Because this is about me, apparently.

We apparently picked the best place to have the baby, since, you know...

(Isn't my wife gorgeous?) And if the Tennessean says it's so, then you can pretty much guess that it's at least decent.

More tomorrow, when we complete Day Two, and get our Childbirth Badge from the Preg Scouts.

Beautiful Songs for a Beautiful Girl

That's sappy, huh? It's the name of a Mix CD I made Kami on August 11, 2002. How do I know this? Because, in cleaning out Emmy's closet, I stumbled across a box full of CDs (I had a major problem from ages 14-22 about buying and making CDs. Now I use MOG, and pay $5/month as penance for the Napster Guilt I feel). I told Kami I loved her for the first time on July 25, 2002, in a parking lot on Music Row in Nashville, watching Wilco play a show for free. Kami wasn't so sure. I think I had nicotine poisoning from chain-smoking the whole show in preparation for telling her how I felt (I had a minor problem with smoking from ages 21-23). What's on this CD?

1. All I Want Is You - U2
One of my most favorite of all the U2 songs.

2. Beautiful - Flickerstick
Flickerstick, if you recall, was on some VH1 Battle of the Bands, in the early 2000s. I loved them. The one song that you may have heard (which also made me a very minor celebrity in Abilene, Texas during my senior year at ACU, thanks to karaoke. I was recognized in the mall as Flickerstick Guy.) was Choloform (The One You Love).

3. Better Than Beautiful - Jeb Loy Nichols
It is telling about Jeb Loy Nichols' popularity that there is not a YouTube video of this song. But it's a good one.

4. Say You Miss Me - Wilco
There are very few bands around as good as Wilco.

5. Sleep Better - Pete Yorn
I'm ambivalent about Pete Yorn now. But his first album is a good one, and this is a great song.

6. Here Comes Your Man - The Pixies
Presumptuous, no?

7. Steal My Kisses - Ben Harper
I liked the, "I pulled into Nashville, Tennessee" line.

8. 3rd of October - Matthew Ryan
Clearly, this song had more of an impact on me ten years ago than it does now. I had to Shazam the song to figure out what it was.

9. City Love - John Mayer
Say what you want about John Mayer, but that Room For Squares album was solid. And this is a solid song, especially for, you know, girls.

10. I Get My Beat - Richard Ashcroft
Ashcroft was the lead singer of The Verve, and decided that The Verve couldn't hold him creatively, so he made solo albums that sounded a lot like what The Verve would have done.

11. Lost - David Garza
David Garza is one of the best artists you've never heard of. And you won't hear this one on YouTube, either.

12. Shiver - Coldplay
I still like Coldplay. Again, I don't care what any of you say. And this one was sly, because it talks about the object of desire not paying any attention to the subject. POW!

13. Sail Away - David Gray
No explanation needed.

14. A Minute Longer - Stereophonics
Yes, I was - and still am - into some BritRock. But this song is tender, and accurately described how I felt about Kami. Pardon the video accompanying the song...it's weird.

15. Mysterious Woman - by some guy at Lipscomb
My cousin Adam had this album from a Writer's Night at David Lipscomb. It was something you typically laughed at, because a lot of the artists weren't all that great, and I mocked people who shared their emotions. There was one guy who had something he called Acappella Rock, which was as terrible as you can imagine. But then this song came up and it was a revelation. I can't link it to YouTube, because I don't know who wrote it, and I doubt very seriously it was made into a video. But it's a good song.

16. Lover You Should've Come Over - Jeff Buckley
Simply one of the best songs. Ever.

17. Hawkmoon 269 - U2
An "I love you" mix CD bookended by U2 songs. Kami can't say she didn't know what she was getting into.

All in all, I stand by the mix. It was bold, presumptuous, and something that I would have regretted if things didn't work out. But they did, so, thanks everyone, for writing these songs.

Well now. Things are getting real.

I mean, they've been getting Real for quite some time now. One glance at Kami's nummy will tell you that. But when we got this today...

Well, things just got real Real. It took a while to figure it out - long enough that I wondered how good a dad I'd actually be since, you know, it took me a good 15 minutes to figure out how to put together a travel system that doesn't actually need tools. But not so long to make me want to cry. But it all fits. The hardest part was getting the back wheels on. But it came together quite nicely, and looks awesome. And now it's in her nursery-in-progress.

And I'm sure the queasy feeling I have has something to do with the Mexican food I ate...

Kami's Nummy

I did not misspell that. A few weeks ago Kami noticed that her tummy itched, but when she went to scratch it, she didn't feel anything. A small part of her tummy had gone numb.

It spread. Now the nummy is about the size of a dinner plate. When she went to see the Good Doctor, she asked about it and was told, "Oh yeah, that's normal." Apparently, with Emmy growing and growing, she's compressing nerve endings, making it to where parts of her tummy are going numb. "When will it come back?" we asked, as you never think about how the outside of your tummy feels until you can't feel it anymore. "Six months? Maybe a year?" they said, answering our question with what certainly seemed like a question.

So, instead of a tummy, Kami has a nummy.

Yesterday morning was not fun

Well well. Things are starting to move along quite quickly towards B-Day, and they really ramp up today when Jared officially moves back to Texas. We've got some closet organizing ahead of us, and a nursery to put together. The biggest closet in the apartment is in the 2nd bedroom, so with that back, things will start to get uncluttered here in a hurry (and Kami hates Clutter slightly less than she hates Sin). That said, we also have a closet off our balcony. There had been some boxes that I had always meant to take to recycling, but that I never remembered to do when I was in a position to do it. I only thought about it at work, in terms of "Hm. I really should have taken care of that." So, yesterday I decided to actually take care of it, so we could get into that outside closet.

I moved two of the boxes and knew something was wrong, but it was so quick and unexpected that it took me a precious few seconds to realize just what exactly it was. 50-100 yellowjackets (thanks to my knowledge of collegiate athletics and logos, I knew they looked like Georgia Tech's logo) swarmed in a collective, "Oh, no you didn't." I didn't even swear. I yelled out a guttural "AAARRRR," and ran back inside - leaving one crucial flip-flop under one of the boxes. And upon returning inside, I noticed my arm and ankle throbbing. Three bites within about a four inch radius of the outside of my ankle, three bites on my forearm within about three inches of each other, and two more bites further up my leg. Kami was freaking out as she is allergic, Gunther was running around in circles, and Angus - the Wise One - had run under the bed. It was a visual representation of insanity.

But still, there was work to be done, so I left with Jared. About 45 minutes later, I get a phone call from Kami where she's sobbing and says - through sobs - "Come home!" The last time she was pregnant and said something along those lines, it ended in an overnight hospital stay, so I immediately went into Panic Mode, and asked (screeched) what was wrong. The other 92 yellowjackets were coming through a gap in the bottom of the door, and she was trying to kill all of them. So we came right home and I duct-taped the door. The yellowjackets regrouped on my flip-flop and looked at me, plotting. I rapped my knuckles on the glass and screamed.

I took some Benadryl. Which means that I was not conscious when the movers came to get Jared's stuff. And even though I was vaguely aware that there were three guys in the living room moving boxes five to ten feet away from me, I could not physically open my eyes to do anything about it. When I did wake up, the world was turned at a 30-degree angle. It was weird. Amazingly, Kami did not get stung. Gunther and Angus did not get stung. Just me - which is probably how I'd prefer it.