If the little thing is a girl, anyway.
And no, I'm not saying what it is.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Apparently this baby likes Frosted Mini Wheats
Typically, a short while before we go to bed, Kami will eat a little bit of cereal to help keep her prenatal vitamin down. The last few nights, the cereal of choice has been of the strawberry Frosted Mini Wheats variety.
In conjunction with this story, it's important to know that Kami got very good news from The Good Doctor on Wednesday when he said she could take Gas-X with no problem. That was huge.
So anyway, last night we were about to go to bed, and Kami shrieked. I am one who is typically averse to sudden, loud, shrill noises, so I freaked and ran into the bedroom where Kami sat, smiling.
It seems as though the baby rather likes Frosted Mini Wheats, seeing as how thrice this week she has felt this sensation after eating strawberry Frosted Mini Wheats. I was skeptical, thinking maybe the gas bubbles were the source of her delight. But at 15 weeks, it seems as though it's fairly common to feel a little twitter in your uterus from the baby moving around by this point.
The Babby, of course, isn't flat-out kicking or anything, just giving Kami the old Aunt Jemima treatment from inside.
In conjunction with this story, it's important to know that Kami got very good news from The Good Doctor on Wednesday when he said she could take Gas-X with no problem. That was huge.
So anyway, last night we were about to go to bed, and Kami shrieked. I am one who is typically averse to sudden, loud, shrill noises, so I freaked and ran into the bedroom where Kami sat, smiling.
It seems as though the baby rather likes Frosted Mini Wheats, seeing as how thrice this week she has felt this sensation after eating strawberry Frosted Mini Wheats. I was skeptical, thinking maybe the gas bubbles were the source of her delight. But at 15 weeks, it seems as though it's fairly common to feel a little twitter in your uterus from the baby moving around by this point.
The Babby, of course, isn't flat-out kicking or anything, just giving Kami the old Aunt Jemima treatment from inside.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
15-week checkup
So this morning, we went to see The Good Doctor for our 15-week check-up. A quick note, if Kami's baby is reading this from the womb, would you mind kindly not deciding to come into this world between the hours of 7am and 9am? Because traffic is a nightmare at that time of day. Seriously, it took us 28 minutes to get to the doctor's office (attached to the hospital) this morning at 8am. Our last visit was at 10am, and it took 16 minutes.
Actually, now that I think of it, if Kami's water breaks at 7:15am, that just might give me a chance to fulfill a life-long dream to drive on the shoulder, and on the sidewalk. I will have no problem popping our car up on some illegal surfaces to get to Baptist Hospital.
So we got to see the doctor, and give him another $500 towards the delivery of the baby (which we'll get into later). He finally was able to get Kami's charts and whatnot from the doctor who saw Kami the first two times. Interestingly enough, it seems her rubella vaccination has started to wear off. Yeah, the rubella vaccination that you get when you're 12 to 18 months. The mumps/measles part is fine, but it seems as though Kami's been burning through her Rubella Fighters.
Rubella - more commonly known as German measles - comes from the Latin for little red, and it's fairly common for preggos to need to get a booster shot - as Kami will have to do after they give birth. She doesn't have it, it's just that her vaccine is low. Full avoidance of Germans is now in effect.
We also got to hear the heartbeat. Last time we heard it, it took The Good Doctor a few minutes to find it. This time, the Fetal Doppler System lit up like Piccadilly Circus immediately (and also told us there was a severe thunderstorm warning for southern Kentucky). So that was awesome. It actually sounded like the bass drum part in the Avett Brothers' "Kick Drum Heart."
Then it was time to decide about the Quad Panel which does not, as I found, have anything to do with going before the board of trustees at college. The Quad Marker Screen is a blood test that offers up odds of a genetic problem with the baby - whether that's Down Syndrome, or something else. It can predict (which is different than a diagnosis) 75-80% of open neural tube defects, and 75% of Down Syndrome cases. So it's not a diagnosis, but will apparently come back with the odds of something being wrong. If the Quad Marker Screen comes back normal, then babies with none of these issues are born about 98% of the time.
I suppose people will use this information differently. Because if it comes back that there's a 1-in-10 chance of Down's Syndrome, then some people will go the route of the amniocentesis - which is a fairly invasive test, using a big frackin' needle to get fluid from the amniotic sac and testing that. There's also a 1-in-200 chance that the amniocentesis could cause a miscarriage, and we've had just about enough of that.
In talking to Kami, we did the Quad Marker Screen, and Kami is wholeheartedly opposed to the amniocentesis - as a result, so am I.
There are things you learn from your pregnant wife, and one of those things is to pick your battles carefully. Would I approve a test that drains fluid from the amniotic sac? Hell no, I wouldn't. Even if Kami was for it, I'd defer to her, but I wouldn't be comfortable with it. Whatever elevates her blood pressure, I will punch that thing in the mouth.
So, we found out the gender of the baby on our next visit - Feb 22 at 9am. Stay tuned...
Actually, now that I think of it, if Kami's water breaks at 7:15am, that just might give me a chance to fulfill a life-long dream to drive on the shoulder, and on the sidewalk. I will have no problem popping our car up on some illegal surfaces to get to Baptist Hospital.
So we got to see the doctor, and give him another $500 towards the delivery of the baby (which we'll get into later). He finally was able to get Kami's charts and whatnot from the doctor who saw Kami the first two times. Interestingly enough, it seems her rubella vaccination has started to wear off. Yeah, the rubella vaccination that you get when you're 12 to 18 months. The mumps/measles part is fine, but it seems as though Kami's been burning through her Rubella Fighters.
Rubella - more commonly known as German measles - comes from the Latin for little red, and it's fairly common for preggos to need to get a booster shot - as Kami will have to do after they give birth. She doesn't have it, it's just that her vaccine is low. Full avoidance of Germans is now in effect.
We also got to hear the heartbeat. Last time we heard it, it took The Good Doctor a few minutes to find it. This time, the Fetal Doppler System lit up like Piccadilly Circus immediately (and also told us there was a severe thunderstorm warning for southern Kentucky). So that was awesome. It actually sounded like the bass drum part in the Avett Brothers' "Kick Drum Heart."
Then it was time to decide about the Quad Panel which does not, as I found, have anything to do with going before the board of trustees at college. The Quad Marker Screen is a blood test that offers up odds of a genetic problem with the baby - whether that's Down Syndrome, or something else. It can predict (which is different than a diagnosis) 75-80% of open neural tube defects, and 75% of Down Syndrome cases. So it's not a diagnosis, but will apparently come back with the odds of something being wrong. If the Quad Marker Screen comes back normal, then babies with none of these issues are born about 98% of the time.
I suppose people will use this information differently. Because if it comes back that there's a 1-in-10 chance of Down's Syndrome, then some people will go the route of the amniocentesis - which is a fairly invasive test, using a big frackin' needle to get fluid from the amniotic sac and testing that. There's also a 1-in-200 chance that the amniocentesis could cause a miscarriage, and we've had just about enough of that.
In talking to Kami, we did the Quad Marker Screen, and Kami is wholeheartedly opposed to the amniocentesis - as a result, so am I.
There are things you learn from your pregnant wife, and one of those things is to pick your battles carefully. Would I approve a test that drains fluid from the amniotic sac? Hell no, I wouldn't. Even if Kami was for it, I'd defer to her, but I wouldn't be comfortable with it. Whatever elevates her blood pressure, I will punch that thing in the mouth.
So, we found out the gender of the baby on our next visit - Feb 22 at 9am. Stay tuned...
Monday, January 23, 2012
Functioning on 3.5 hours of sleep
Holy crap last night was brutal. In case you missed it, or just flat-out don't freaking care, Arkansas, west Tennessee, and middle Tennessee got punched in the mouth with an April storm. Except it was in January.
Anytime they give you 12 hours notice of a bad storm in Tennessee, you can pretty much count on it happening. So after church (and Cracker Barrel, where I caved to no pressure whatsoever and got the Chicken Fried Chicken Chicken Fried Chicken), I took a nap - a weird one in which, for some reason, I was completely hammered on Zima, and trying to hide it from Kami. I needn't worry in the dream, because I had been offered a job talking baseball on a local radio station. And Kami was driving to Corpus Christi with Bernie Taupin, anyway. That was a nuts dream.
After watching both football games, Kami was fading. I told her to go to bed. Of course, if I tell her to do something, she will refuse, even if it kills her. So I quickly rephrased, reminding her that she is growing a human, and that's her mommy duty. I'm the daddy, and it's daddy duty to make sure that nobody gets crushed by the roof caving in from a January tornado.
At 11:30, I settled in with the weather on, Black Dog under my feet, and a book (The Accidental Billionaires - fantastic). I waited. Watching purple weather march across the state is disconcerting. Even more disconcerting was the warning from the National Weather Service, which read (word-for-word):
"NIGHTTIME TORNADOES ARE ESPECIALLY DANGEROUS SINCE DARKNESS MAKES IT DIFFICULT TO SEE THEM. IN ADDITION...IT IS THE TIME WHEN MOST PEOPLE ARE THINKING OF GOING TO BED."
The NWS had gently, and I know it was gentle because of the All-Caps, informed everyone that because it was dark, and we are asleep, that is why we will die. I put my book down, and just watched the slow march of weather death.
At about 1:50am, the word came for eastern Davidson County to get to a safe place, so I grabbed Angus, woke Kami, who grabbed Gunther, and we headed to the bathroom. Ultimately, nothing bad happened - in Nashville, anyway. But the fact was, I was going to bed at 2:30, and our alarm was going off at 5:30.
We hit snooze until about 6:00am when we just had to get up. Three and a half hours of sleep. I could barely talk. I had that rubber-legged, jacked gut feeling that comes with having very little sleep. I drank three cups of coffee, watching SportsCenter on mute. Kami told me if I had anything with sugar, I would crash, and it would not be pretty - I would either fall asleep on my desk and possibly drown in my own drool, or I would break a butterfly knife off in somebody's chest.
Still, on the way to work, I drank an energy drink and got the lovely feeling that I had battery acid running through my veins - and I had not yet arrived at work.
So how did I function on three-and-a-half hours of sleep? Fairly well, thank you very much. I did not yell at anyone (breathing exercises, remember). I did not hit an inanimate object. Everything went alright. Of course, if I counted backwards from ten I wouldn't get to nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Anytime they give you 12 hours notice of a bad storm in Tennessee, you can pretty much count on it happening. So after church (and Cracker Barrel, where I caved to no pressure whatsoever and got the Chicken Fried Chicken Chicken Fried Chicken), I took a nap - a weird one in which, for some reason, I was completely hammered on Zima, and trying to hide it from Kami. I needn't worry in the dream, because I had been offered a job talking baseball on a local radio station. And Kami was driving to Corpus Christi with Bernie Taupin, anyway. That was a nuts dream.
After watching both football games, Kami was fading. I told her to go to bed. Of course, if I tell her to do something, she will refuse, even if it kills her. So I quickly rephrased, reminding her that she is growing a human, and that's her mommy duty. I'm the daddy, and it's daddy duty to make sure that nobody gets crushed by the roof caving in from a January tornado.
At 11:30, I settled in with the weather on, Black Dog under my feet, and a book (The Accidental Billionaires - fantastic). I waited. Watching purple weather march across the state is disconcerting. Even more disconcerting was the warning from the National Weather Service, which read (word-for-word):
"NIGHTTIME TORNADOES ARE ESPECIALLY DANGEROUS SINCE DARKNESS MAKES IT DIFFICULT TO SEE THEM. IN ADDITION...IT IS THE TIME WHEN MOST PEOPLE ARE THINKING OF GOING TO BED."
The NWS had gently, and I know it was gentle because of the All-Caps, informed everyone that because it was dark, and we are asleep, that is why we will die. I put my book down, and just watched the slow march of weather death.
At about 1:50am, the word came for eastern Davidson County to get to a safe place, so I grabbed Angus, woke Kami, who grabbed Gunther, and we headed to the bathroom. Ultimately, nothing bad happened - in Nashville, anyway. But the fact was, I was going to bed at 2:30, and our alarm was going off at 5:30.
We hit snooze until about 6:00am when we just had to get up. Three and a half hours of sleep. I could barely talk. I had that rubber-legged, jacked gut feeling that comes with having very little sleep. I drank three cups of coffee, watching SportsCenter on mute. Kami told me if I had anything with sugar, I would crash, and it would not be pretty - I would either fall asleep on my desk and possibly drown in my own drool, or I would break a butterfly knife off in somebody's chest.
Still, on the way to work, I drank an energy drink and got the lovely feeling that I had battery acid running through my veins - and I had not yet arrived at work.
So how did I function on three-and-a-half hours of sleep? Fairly well, thank you very much. I did not yell at anyone (breathing exercises, remember). I did not hit an inanimate object. Everything went alright. Of course, if I counted backwards from ten I wouldn't get to nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Daddy Duty
So it's 1:34am on Monday morning, and Kami is currently trying to sleep. What am I doing blogging? I'm hanging out with Black Dog watching the weather as a line of severe thunderstorms/possible tornadoes - with 60-70mph winds - passes by. Then I'll go to bed. Then I'll pay for it tomorrow.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
When The Red Mist Descendeth O'er Mine Eyes
Perhaps you wouldn't know it to look at me, or read the words I type (which apparently some of you are, in fact, doing), but good God I can get mad. If going from Zero to Psycho was an Olympic sport, I would be on a 1970s East German Track Star level. We call it the "Red Mist Descending," when I get so angry that I cannot see, hear, or function.
This is quite alarming, because I'm not really an agitated person in general. Kami, however, is as serene as a country lake. This only serves to agitate me further. And after one of these episodes, when Kami says, "Now what purpose does THAT serve?" Well, you can imagine what that does to the Rage.
Inanimate objects get it the worst. When I was putting laundry in the washing machine (something for which I am currently on probation - more on that later), I bent down to get a sock that had wriggled out of my clutches, and the lid fell down on my hand. I beat that washing machine like it was Inanimate Fight Club.
I've kicked the refrigerator, dropped a hambone on the toaster, punched the corner of the cabinet, I routinely draw blood on the steering wheel - and I know everyone says that their town has the worst drivers, but none of you have anything on Nashville drivers. If there is precipitation on the road, everyone acts as though they're driving a convoy through Baghdad, and have to ride the bumper of the person in front of them to the point of laughable ridiculousness.
Do any of these things help? Absolutely not. Do any of these things make me feel better? Of course not. Is Kami right? Of course she is. Hitting something inanimate only hurts my animated being, which only enrages me further. It's something I have tried to, not just control, but actively keep from Kami. No one wants to be married to a knuckle-dragging mouth-breather; and who especially wants to pro-create with one? The risk in this strategy is that I bottle it up, until I run out of toothpaste, and burst into tears.
So now that I find myself less than six months from having a baby who is undoubtedly going to do things that will irritate me, I absolutely have to rein this crap in. Some strategies that I came up with:
1. No more listening to the radio. Only Yanni.
2. Lavender air-freshener in the car.
3. Lavender stuffed in my shirt collars, so that it's all I smell, thus calming me down.
4. Stop talking to people.
5. Stop driving.
6. Stop following the news.
None of these are viable options, except for #2. And #3 - that's something I will explore this coming weekend.
I went over to the American Psychological Association's website, and read "Controlling Anger Before It Controls You," with a picture of a gentleman in a black tank top surrounded by a chain link fence, with him gripping his head, teeth clenched. From the evidence presented, he is in prison. Enclosed not just by the walls of a penitentiary, but also by his own anger - which he can apparently still not control.
One of the things the electronic brochure addresses is whether or not it's okay to "let it all hang out." The answer, you can probably guess, is "No." It is not acceptable to "let your anger rip." Anything that involves letting your anger do anything is unacceptable.
So here's what the APA says to do:
Breathe deeply, from your diaphragm; breathing from your chest won't relax you. Picture your breath coming up from your "gut."
My gut is to the point where it does not need quotation marks - I'm well aware of where it is. I like this one. It's a keeper. Of course, my "gut" is a cause of stress in my life, which is something I need to avoid. Still, not a bad start.
Slowly repeat a calm word or phrase such as "relax," "take it easy." Repeat it to yourself while breathing deeply.
I don't think I'll be doing this one, unless the calm word or phrase is, "Sweet pickles, take this away from me," in a shrill voice. That way, if someone asks what I'm doing, I can say "It's the only thing keeping me from poking you in the eyes." Which would make me laugh, thus feeling better.
Use imagery; visualize a relaxing experience, from either your memory or your imagination.
This could work, too. The most relaxing thing I can think of is when I got in that bar fight in Cayman, and broke a bottle over a Russian's head. So when I start to get angry at the bagels, I can think of dropping that Russian like 3rd period French, and all will be right in the world.
Nonstrenuous, slow yoga-like exercises can relax your muscles and make you feel much calmer.
No, see the point is to find something quickly, to repeal the Red Mist. I'm not going to do yoga in the car. Maybe that's what everyone in Nashville on I-40 is doing when it's raining, leading to a wreck that backs up traffic to Jackson.
So the winner is breathing exercises. My gut is readily available, and is full of air to calm down.
There are other strategies, including one on "changing your scenario." The example given is that, if your child's dirty room makes you mad, just shut the door. Seeing as how this doesn't address the issue of why the child's room is dirty, and is a fairly easy way out - with no breathing, dream sequences, or yoga, I'm more inclined to say that this brochure is ridiculous in nature, and I'm totally fine.
Problem solved. Now to focus on my breathing...
This is quite alarming, because I'm not really an agitated person in general. Kami, however, is as serene as a country lake. This only serves to agitate me further. And after one of these episodes, when Kami says, "Now what purpose does THAT serve?" Well, you can imagine what that does to the Rage.
Inanimate objects get it the worst. When I was putting laundry in the washing machine (something for which I am currently on probation - more on that later), I bent down to get a sock that had wriggled out of my clutches, and the lid fell down on my hand. I beat that washing machine like it was Inanimate Fight Club.
I've kicked the refrigerator, dropped a hambone on the toaster, punched the corner of the cabinet, I routinely draw blood on the steering wheel - and I know everyone says that their town has the worst drivers, but none of you have anything on Nashville drivers. If there is precipitation on the road, everyone acts as though they're driving a convoy through Baghdad, and have to ride the bumper of the person in front of them to the point of laughable ridiculousness.
Do any of these things help? Absolutely not. Do any of these things make me feel better? Of course not. Is Kami right? Of course she is. Hitting something inanimate only hurts my animated being, which only enrages me further. It's something I have tried to, not just control, but actively keep from Kami. No one wants to be married to a knuckle-dragging mouth-breather; and who especially wants to pro-create with one? The risk in this strategy is that I bottle it up, until I run out of toothpaste, and burst into tears.
So now that I find myself less than six months from having a baby who is undoubtedly going to do things that will irritate me, I absolutely have to rein this crap in. Some strategies that I came up with:
1. No more listening to the radio. Only Yanni.
2. Lavender air-freshener in the car.
3. Lavender stuffed in my shirt collars, so that it's all I smell, thus calming me down.
4. Stop talking to people.
5. Stop driving.
6. Stop following the news.
None of these are viable options, except for #2. And #3 - that's something I will explore this coming weekend.
I went over to the American Psychological Association's website, and read "Controlling Anger Before It Controls You," with a picture of a gentleman in a black tank top surrounded by a chain link fence, with him gripping his head, teeth clenched. From the evidence presented, he is in prison. Enclosed not just by the walls of a penitentiary, but also by his own anger - which he can apparently still not control.
One of the things the electronic brochure addresses is whether or not it's okay to "let it all hang out." The answer, you can probably guess, is "No." It is not acceptable to "let your anger rip." Anything that involves letting your anger do anything is unacceptable.
So here's what the APA says to do:
Breathe deeply, from your diaphragm; breathing from your chest won't relax you. Picture your breath coming up from your "gut."
My gut is to the point where it does not need quotation marks - I'm well aware of where it is. I like this one. It's a keeper. Of course, my "gut" is a cause of stress in my life, which is something I need to avoid. Still, not a bad start.
Slowly repeat a calm word or phrase such as "relax," "take it easy." Repeat it to yourself while breathing deeply.
I don't think I'll be doing this one, unless the calm word or phrase is, "Sweet pickles, take this away from me," in a shrill voice. That way, if someone asks what I'm doing, I can say "It's the only thing keeping me from poking you in the eyes." Which would make me laugh, thus feeling better.
Use imagery; visualize a relaxing experience, from either your memory or your imagination.
This could work, too. The most relaxing thing I can think of is when I got in that bar fight in Cayman, and broke a bottle over a Russian's head. So when I start to get angry at the bagels, I can think of dropping that Russian like 3rd period French, and all will be right in the world.
Nonstrenuous, slow yoga-like exercises can relax your muscles and make you feel much calmer.
No, see the point is to find something quickly, to repeal the Red Mist. I'm not going to do yoga in the car. Maybe that's what everyone in Nashville on I-40 is doing when it's raining, leading to a wreck that backs up traffic to Jackson.
So the winner is breathing exercises. My gut is readily available, and is full of air to calm down.
There are other strategies, including one on "changing your scenario." The example given is that, if your child's dirty room makes you mad, just shut the door. Seeing as how this doesn't address the issue of why the child's room is dirty, and is a fairly easy way out - with no breathing, dream sequences, or yoga, I'm more inclined to say that this brochure is ridiculous in nature, and I'm totally fine.
Problem solved. Now to focus on my breathing...
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Hail Mary
Here in nine minutes, I start the Online Jeopardy Test. If this goes well, I'll get called for an audition in Dallas. If that goes well, I'll be on Jeopardy. If that goes well, I'll be a MILLIONAIRE.
This is the Hail Mary of Paying For Babies.
UPDATE: The test did not go well. Apparently knowing things about "Science" is a prerequisite.
This is the Hail Mary of Paying For Babies.
UPDATE: The test did not go well. Apparently knowing things about "Science" is a prerequisite.
On sleeping. Well, me sleeping.
Quick update: The nausea has passed, save for the odd meal (and by "odd" I mean "twice a week"), and was immediately replaced with heartburn. Heartburn to the point that a piece of Orbit gum gave her a clean mouth, but a roiling gut.
But the big inconvenience for Kami is the frequent urination. She pees constantly. Constantly. Constantly. She's gone to the bathroom twice since I started this post.
Even in the middle of the night. Now, I will be 32 years old in a few weeks, and I'm starting to feel it: Creaky knees, thanks to an arthritic condition of which I'm getting a sweet little preview now; greying hair (though I'm sort of excited about it - I've always wanted to be a Silver-haired Fox); yelling at the News. But I don't really have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Kami does this four times a night.
Sometimes she does it just to get up and move around, since our mattress is getting long in the tooth, and she sleeps on her left side, she gets stove up. If any of you have a hook-up with a Sleep Number, or any good mattress, drop me a ring-a-ding. We'd buy a new one. But the Good Doctor is bleeding us dry before this baby even comes. I find it strange to pay for the baby in advance. I'd be much more comfortable giving him wads of $20s in a shoebox on the roof of the library than how we've been paying him.
ANYway, I have a tendency to snore. So does Gunther. Occasionally, Angus joins in the Snorus - as we've taken to calling it. This wakes Kami up, she thinks, "I might as well pee," and gets up. I have no idea she's doing this. I just wake up next to two dogs on their backs between Kami and myself.
But the big inconvenience for Kami is the frequent urination. She pees constantly. Constantly. Constantly. She's gone to the bathroom twice since I started this post.
Even in the middle of the night. Now, I will be 32 years old in a few weeks, and I'm starting to feel it: Creaky knees, thanks to an arthritic condition of which I'm getting a sweet little preview now; greying hair (though I'm sort of excited about it - I've always wanted to be a Silver-haired Fox); yelling at the News. But I don't really have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Kami does this four times a night.
Sometimes she does it just to get up and move around, since our mattress is getting long in the tooth, and she sleeps on her left side, she gets stove up. If any of you have a hook-up with a Sleep Number, or any good mattress, drop me a ring-a-ding. We'd buy a new one. But the Good Doctor is bleeding us dry before this baby even comes. I find it strange to pay for the baby in advance. I'd be much more comfortable giving him wads of $20s in a shoebox on the roof of the library than how we've been paying him.
ANYway, I have a tendency to snore. So does Gunther. Occasionally, Angus joins in the Snorus - as we've taken to calling it. This wakes Kami up, she thinks, "I might as well pee," and gets up. I have no idea she's doing this. I just wake up next to two dogs on their backs between Kami and myself.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
An Annotated Guide to a 14-week Old Baby
Momma still lookin' good.
What's new this week, BabyCenter?
Your baby can now squint, frown, grimace, pee, and possibly suck his thumb! Thanks to brain impulses, his facial muscles are getting a workout as his tiny features form one expression after another.
I'm guessing that Scrimp's facial impressions involve going from Magnum to Le Tigre to Blue Steel to Ferrari. Let's get an Ultrasound, stat, and check this out. By the by, next time we go see The Good Doctor (a week from tomorrow), that should be happening.
The biggest news is that we're now out of the first trimester. According to some random Geocities webpage I saw, the risk of miscarriage after the first trimester is about 3%. As a baseball fan, I'll take the odds of pitching to an .030 hitter. So it's all very exciting.
Scrimp is about "the size of a lemon" so, good on you BabyCenter for coming up with easily identifiable size comparisons. You've come so far since saying that a baby is approximately the size of an otter's bicuspid. Also, I'm pleased to report that the baby's head is now somewhat proportional. A story:
When we first got Angus, our Scottie, he was about eight weeks old. And his head is exactly the same size - at seven years old - as it was at eight weeks. He'd drag his big old donkey noggin around the place, and when he got snipped, he had to wear the Elizabethan collar to keep him from itchin' the stitchin'. He actually looked like he jumped through the Victrola in the RCA logo. Ultimately, he grew into it. But not after our vet said that he was either retarded (not kidding), or just young. The way he hides rawhide bones from Gunther - I'm going with young.
I love that dog like my son, but if Scrimp comes out looking like Angus...well, there's a lot of things to unpack in those few words, but let's just hope it doesn't happen.
Mommy Question Time!
(This section has been edited. I was going to make fun of a lady who seemingly had a hard time with simple math. But Kami explained it's not that simple, and implied that I would be a jerkface if I included it.)
what'd you eat today??
Not kidding. This is an actual question. And all of the responses are other people talking about what they ate.
Breakfast: scrambled eggs, 1.5 pieces of bacon, fried potatoes
Lunch: salad with ranch and a BBQ brisket baked potato that made me very nauseated
Snack: 2 string cheese
Dinner: eating at my fav pizza place, steak and Gorgonzola pizza that is to die for
Drink: sprite, lotsa water, tea half/half :)
Maybe a snack later of jello or a fudge bar haha whichever calls me first ;)
Bullcrap. No one eats half a piece of bacon. I'll eat a package and a half of bacon before I eat a slice and a half. And, oh how you close with a wink. Sultry minx.
breakfast: an orange and water
lunch: a green apple, milk, garlic bread with strawberry cream cheese and then ice cream- LOL (embarrassing)
haven't had din din yet, still at work ;)
This is preposterous. Also, no one eats garlic bread with strawberry cream cheese. Typical preggo, eating things that don't go together. Also, save your LOL Embarrassing talk about ice cream - you have had perhaps 250 calories to that point - do you care about your baby, but at all? Also, get back to work. Stop your winking.
So far...
Breakfast 1: bagel and cream cheese and a banana
Breakfast attempt 2: French bread with olive oil and balsamic vinegar
Snack: honey nut Cheerios
Lunch: Homemade pulled pork on a hoagie roll
Snack 2: small can of mixed veggies.
Drink: coffee, water, and limeade, need to get more water and milk in before bed. Haven't had dinner yet, waiting on DH to get home from work.
One would assume that Breakfast 1 came up, so Breakfast Attempt 2 was actually an effort to eat something that would stay down. And she went with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Unbelievable.
So I asked Kami what she ate today:
Breakfast: Egg whites with green peppers, tomatoes, and Spinach.
Snack: Greek yogurt w/handful of granola
Lunch: Fruit Cup w/overwhelming peach:fruit ratio
Snack: Handful of Froot Loops
Dinner: Three-cheese tortellini with homemade pesto, broccoli, peas, and green beans.
I'll take her menu over Strawberry Cream Cheese Garlic Bread Vomit Lady.
By the by, I started working out yesterday, running and then lifting weights. And today I could barely wash my hair, I was so sore. So I ate some Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast. And still had milk left, so I had some more Honey Nut Cheerios. And ran out of milk with the Honey Nut Cheerios still in the bowl. So I added more milk. And still had milk left when I ran out of Honey Nut Cheerios. It wasn't until they got to the Top 10 Plays on SportsCenter before I realized that I had eaten half a box of Cheerios. I'm a child.
Profiles in Fatherhood
From the New Orleans Times-Picayune
July 30, 2011
A father was arrested this morning in Livingston Parish after state troopers discovered his 8-year-old son was driving the family from Mississippi to Dallas while the man slept, intoxicated.
The father, Billy Joe Madden, 28, of Hattiesburg, Miss., was arrested and booked into the Livingston Parish Jail.
Louisiana State Police Troop A received a call around 6:30 a.m. from a concerned motorist traveling west on Interstate 12 near Holden, said state police spokeswoman Melissa Matey.
The driver said a green Chevrolet pick-up truck was moving erratically and a child appeared to be the driver.
Troopers stopped the pick-up truck on I-12, just west of LA 447 in Livingston Parish.
Madden was in the passenger seat while his 8-year-old son drove and his 4-year-old daughter sat in the back seat, Matey said. No one was injured.
July 30, 2011
A father was arrested this morning in Livingston Parish after state troopers discovered his 8-year-old son was driving the family from Mississippi to Dallas while the man slept, intoxicated.
The father, Billy Joe Madden, 28, of Hattiesburg, Miss., was arrested and booked into the Livingston Parish Jail.
Louisiana State Police Troop A received a call around 6:30 a.m. from a concerned motorist traveling west on Interstate 12 near Holden, said state police spokeswoman Melissa Matey.
The driver said a green Chevrolet pick-up truck was moving erratically and a child appeared to be the driver.
Troopers stopped the pick-up truck on I-12, just west of LA 447 in Livingston Parish.
Madden was in the passenger seat while his 8-year-old son drove and his 4-year-old daughter sat in the back seat, Matey said. No one was injured.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Things I Shouldn't Say
So this morning, Kami and I were asked to lead the Communion thoughts at Otter Creek. Our minister, Josh (who is awesome), sent us his sermon notes which had an overarching theme of Taking the Plunge.
I talked about the Polar Bear Club in Cooperstown, and Kami talked about scuba diving. It was fine. When we got done with 1st service we were sitting on the stage, waiting for everything to get passed around, and Kami asked how she did. I whispered back, "You did great. But you said the F-Word."
Of course, she did not say the F-Word. She doesn't say the F-Word. But that didn't stop her from going completely pale and immediately start to cry. I only let her go for perhaps one second before saying, "No. You didn't. I'm just kidding."
And she has barely talked to me since.
Join me next time for "Things I Shouldn't Say To A Hormonal Woman."
I talked about the Polar Bear Club in Cooperstown, and Kami talked about scuba diving. It was fine. When we got done with 1st service we were sitting on the stage, waiting for everything to get passed around, and Kami asked how she did. I whispered back, "You did great. But you said the F-Word."
Of course, she did not say the F-Word. She doesn't say the F-Word. But that didn't stop her from going completely pale and immediately start to cry. I only let her go for perhaps one second before saying, "No. You didn't. I'm just kidding."
And she has barely talked to me since.
Join me next time for "Things I Shouldn't Say To A Hormonal Woman."
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Profiles in Fatherhood
From The Times of India
August 2010
KADAPA: In a shocking incident, a man sold his six-year-old daughter in an open auction in Kadapa district on Wednesday in his desperation to buy liquor.
Krishnaiah, 40, a daily wage labourer, of Lakkireddypalle in Rayachoti constituency sold his daughter to one Mohd Basha for Rs 1,000 in Ramapuram. With the news spreading like wild fire, police entered the scene and rescued the girl.
It all started when Krishnaiah, a drunkard, went to a liquor shop in the morning but the shop owner denied him liquor since he has incurred a heavy debt. In dire need, the man took his daughter to nearby Ramapuram and put her up for sale. The bid started at Rs 300.
Finally, Bhasha paid Rs 1,000 and took the girl along with him. But the cops got wind of the shocking news and caught hold of Krishnaiah. They beat him up. Fearing that the police would arrest him, Bhasha left the girl on the street and fled from the spot.
Meanwhile, the police took Krishnaiah into custody. A case was registered.
August 2010
KADAPA: In a shocking incident, a man sold his six-year-old daughter in an open auction in Kadapa district on Wednesday in his desperation to buy liquor.
Krishnaiah, 40, a daily wage labourer, of Lakkireddypalle in Rayachoti constituency sold his daughter to one Mohd Basha for Rs 1,000 in Ramapuram. With the news spreading like wild fire, police entered the scene and rescued the girl.
It all started when Krishnaiah, a drunkard, went to a liquor shop in the morning but the shop owner denied him liquor since he has incurred a heavy debt. In dire need, the man took his daughter to nearby Ramapuram and put her up for sale. The bid started at Rs 300.
Finally, Bhasha paid Rs 1,000 and took the girl along with him. But the cops got wind of the shocking news and caught hold of Krishnaiah. They beat him up. Fearing that the police would arrest him, Bhasha left the girl on the street and fled from the spot.
Meanwhile, the police took Krishnaiah into custody. A case was registered.
Monday, January 9, 2012
This baby is extremely convenient and considerate
So many of you who know me know that I am a Houston Astros fan, to put it quite mildly. 106 times last year I went to bed angry (and, I mean, angry), because the Astros lost, even though I knew they weren't going to be good in 2011 (2012 doesn't look much more promising).
When the Astros went to the World Series, I knew that Ezequiel Astacio was going to lose the game as soon as he came in for the 14th inning in Game 3. I threw up when Albert Pujols hit the Brad Lidge home run in Game 5 of the 2005 NLCS.
ANYway. Jeff Bagwell was eligible to be elected/inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame for the first time last year, but because the voting members of the BBWAA think he was too big and therefore must have been using steroids, only 41% of them voted for him (you need 75% to get in). This year, though, there was a part of me that thought he might get in, what with the bounce from the writers who just don't vote for anybody on the first ballot.
Induction is July 22, 2012. Had Bagwell gotten in, he would have been enshrined in Cooperstown - the first player to wear an Astros cap on his plaque - five days after the due date of our baby. And Momma wouldn't have me going to Cooperstown (a) without her, and (b) leaving her with a five-day old baby.
But only 56% of the BBWAA saw fit to vote for Jeff Bagwell, so Bagwell stays on the ballot for 2013 where he goes joins teammate Craig Biggio for his first year of eligibility. We'll go back to Cooperstown for both inductions - but man, it would be cool to take a 1-year old for their induction.
So, thank you, baby; and thank you for your ignorance, BBWAA. For once, your insolence benefits someone.
When the Astros went to the World Series, I knew that Ezequiel Astacio was going to lose the game as soon as he came in for the 14th inning in Game 3. I threw up when Albert Pujols hit the Brad Lidge home run in Game 5 of the 2005 NLCS.
ANYway. Jeff Bagwell was eligible to be elected/inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame for the first time last year, but because the voting members of the BBWAA think he was too big and therefore must have been using steroids, only 41% of them voted for him (you need 75% to get in). This year, though, there was a part of me that thought he might get in, what with the bounce from the writers who just don't vote for anybody on the first ballot.
Induction is July 22, 2012. Had Bagwell gotten in, he would have been enshrined in Cooperstown - the first player to wear an Astros cap on his plaque - five days after the due date of our baby. And Momma wouldn't have me going to Cooperstown (a) without her, and (b) leaving her with a five-day old baby.
But only 56% of the BBWAA saw fit to vote for Jeff Bagwell, so Bagwell stays on the ballot for 2013 where he goes joins teammate Craig Biggio for his first year of eligibility. We'll go back to Cooperstown for both inductions - but man, it would be cool to take a 1-year old for their induction.
So, thank you, baby; and thank you for your ignorance, BBWAA. For once, your insolence benefits someone.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Foods that work, foods that don't
An updated list of the foods Kami can/will eat:
Alpha Bits, Fruity Pebbles, Scrambled Eggs, Water, Decaf coffee, any fruit, most vegetables, Mexican food, Indian food, waffles, hummus, berries (straw, blue, rasp, any of them), Burger King fries.
What she cannot/will not eat (from horrifically personal experience):
Milk, portobello mushrooms, Pizza (nay, Pizza Hut commercials now. We saw a commercial for a deep dish pizza and Kami ran to the bathroom), Italian food, bacon (the appearance of bacon on this list, with "Scrambled Eggs" on the former list, is tremendously unfair), sweets, tepid water, ranch dressing
Alpha Bits, Fruity Pebbles, Scrambled Eggs, Water, Decaf coffee, any fruit, most vegetables, Mexican food, Indian food, waffles, hummus, berries (straw, blue, rasp, any of them), Burger King fries.
What she cannot/will not eat (from horrifically personal experience):
Milk, portobello mushrooms, Pizza (nay, Pizza Hut commercials now. We saw a commercial for a deep dish pizza and Kami ran to the bathroom), Italian food, bacon (the appearance of bacon on this list, with "Scrambled Eggs" on the former list, is tremendously unfair), sweets, tepid water, ranch dressing
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Things that will happen after we have a baby
Right now things are a little abstract. We know we're having a baby. I keep writing about it, so I know that it's going to happen. But Kami's not showing yet, and while we've seen the little scrimp, and heard its' heartbeat, it's still a little...not real. But then I got thinking about the middle of July. And dude, that's not far away. Here are the things that will happen after this baby comes:
-The Major League Baseball trading deadline.
-Oklahoma football's next game.
-Labor Day.
-No one watches a WNBA game.
This time next year, the good Lord willin', we'll have a five-and-a-half month old. And right now, that scares me half to death.
Part of my self-imposed responsibilities include shocking Kami with something I say each and every day. So the other day we were looking around at our place and Kami said, "We need to make some changes here." And I said, "Yep. What we need is some of that orange mesh fencing like they have on ski slopes."
For that day, responsibilities were fulfilled.
-The Major League Baseball trading deadline.
-Oklahoma football's next game.
-Labor Day.
-No one watches a WNBA game.
This time next year, the good Lord willin', we'll have a five-and-a-half month old. And right now, that scares me half to death.
Part of my self-imposed responsibilities include shocking Kami with something I say each and every day. So the other day we were looking around at our place and Kami said, "We need to make some changes here." And I said, "Yep. What we need is some of that orange mesh fencing like they have on ski slopes."
For that day, responsibilities were fulfilled.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
An annotated guide to a 12-week old baby
First of all, momma lookin' good.
Second - WE HAVE EYELID(S)! And Ears! This means that I can start preparing the first songs that Babby can hear. A short list (please do not read any meaning into the songs, these are just my favorites at the moment):
Water Ban - Pernice Brothers
Don't Carry It All - Decemberists
Magazine - Joshua James
Anyhow, the big development of Week 12 is that of reflexes. Eyes open and close, fingers and toes clench and de-clench. I am currently 1,660 weeks old, and I have trouble with this from time to time. So let's figuratively pour one out for Babby's reflexes already being more developed than Daddy's.
In fact, if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response...
Oh, Kami's abdomen is going to get prodded - just to see what happens.
although you won't be able to feel it
Well, nevermind.
From crown to rump, your baby-to-be is just over 2 inches long (about the size of a lime) and weighs half an ounce.
Props to BabyCenter for coming up with a decent comparison of length. But I'm confused by this "crown to rump" measurement. From crown to rump I'm about three feet tall, so let's take a step back on the measurement guide.
Word Of The Week: Fundus
Fundus! The fundus is the top of the uterus. The Workdus is the bottom of the uterus. (Not true).
And now, a note from "Tracy":
"Instead of your morning coffee, try a cup of steamed milk with a shot of flavored syrup. Delicious — and good for you and your baby!"
Now, I realize this is not for me, but this is - quite frankly - preposterous. Steamed milk and a shot of flavored syrup sounds absolutely disgusting. And the only thing I will drink "instead of my morning coffee" is four cans of Red Bull. And then I will run through a brick wall. The latter I would rather do than drink a steaming cup of orange-syrupped milk.
New Favorite Pastime:
Mommy Comments! The July 2012 Birth Club is an active, opinionated, occasionally hostile group of women, which is awesome. This week, they're talking about drinking while pregnant. The conversation starts with:
Am I the only person that thinks this is so wrong? I see so many comments about how it will be ok to have a couple. Has anyone stopped to think about what this does to your baby? To me, not having a drink while pregnant is easy - I'm protecting my baby.
Vent over ;)
The winky-face is a historically clear indication that the initial SHOTS FIRED comment is over, and then nuclear war begins.
On first glance, it seems as though Baby.Raks is trying to say, "It's okay to have a drink, right? RIGHT!? RIGHT, DAMN YOU ALL?" But wait, there's a second act, one in which there is self-realized resolution. Here's the thought process:
1. I'm interested in women who drink while pregnant, I'll ask the Mommy Mafia.
2. I'm curious if anyone else has noticed the women who say it's okay to have a couple of drinks.
3. Aren't they stupid?
4. I'm not stupid.
5. Right?
6. Oh, I don't drink.
This sounds like the same "Gays are wrong! Right? I'm not gay, but I have gay friends" argument.
The comments (271 of them at last check) run the gamut, with well over 90% of them being of the "HOW DARE YOU" variety. And to have a contrary opinion in a group of pregnant women, while ill-advised at the best of times, is flat-out high-risk behavior in hot-button (overly-hyphenated) topics, like Drinking While Preggo.
My favorites, so far:
5. Lol ^
Wonderful insight. The world is a better place knowing that you laughed out loud at...something.
4. Can you be more specific? Drinking as in having A drink or drinking as in having a FEW. Cause one is perfectly ok and the other isn't.
You can imagine the shaking hands, and the secretive Google Image Search for "Mai-Tai" and "Wine Cooler." Then the internet history gets deleted.
3. I 100% agree!!! I could never drink while I am pregant! The only think I have to think about is, what you put in your body also goes to that baby. Alcohol is poison, that is why it gives us that buzz. One drink or 10 drinks it is wrong to drink while pregnant!!
There are six exclamation points in five sentences, giving us a 1.200 Exclamation Rate.
2. BUT! biggg giant BUT here!!!!!! if you care enough to come here and make an "its so wrong" post, you better not be eating lunch meat, hot dogs, soft cheeses, better not have even missed a prenatal or taken anything other than tylenol, better not be tippin back that morning cup o' joe... ect ect you get my point. alcohol is NOT the only evil no-no of pregnancy...but as a PP said, it seems to be what everyone gets stuck on
Once you wade through the grammar, punctuation, and capitalization errors ("ect ect" as it was so aptly put), this is actually a pretty good point. Drinking = Hot Dogs.
1. It's not a black and white issue. Having a drink doesn't equal getting drunk. And drinking on occasion doesn't equal being an alcoholic. We all have our own doctors, opinions, experiences and fears for a reason- so that we can make our own choices. What I actually find ridiculous is that alcohol is the holy grail of pregnancy 'sins'. Just yesterday someone posted about struggling with smoking. All the comments were so supportive, all saying relax just cut back til you quit. Don't get me wrong, I don't think smoking is the end of the world and I was pleased to see that nobody was telling her how awful she was....and yet these were the SAME women who basically tore some poor lady apart over wine on Christmas. It's just so disproportional!
This is the comment equivalent to the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, which started World War I. It is shocking, because it is violent and came out of nowhere - the comment board's kick to the shins. The responses approach Phariseean levels of self-righteousness, lambasting the one-woman-wolf-pack for her reckless opinions. Mommy Commenters = Vultures.
Is drinking okay? For me, yes.
Monday, January 2, 2012
The Last Ten Days
For the last ten days, Kami and I have been off work, and have driven a total of 52 miles. There was talk about driving to Texas to see family, but man, that's far. And 17 hours in a car with a preggo is like 119 hours in Preg Time - and this doesn't even begin to mention the cost of driving 17 hours in a six-year old SUV. Also, we heard the heartbeat, so that was great, and were able to do so before the end of the year which, for deductible/HRA card purposes, was huge.
So what have we done? Nothing. We came to the realization that 10 days with nothing to do, nowhere to be, no diapers to change, probably wouldn't happen again until 2031. Here is a loose recap of our days:
7:00am - I wake up, make coffee, drink coffee, repeat steps two and three. Repeat steps two and three again. When not on vacation, I typically wake up around 5am, because as much as I don't like to admit it - I'm sort of high-maintenance. I can't just pop out of bed and be ready to go. Kami can do this, and it is a source of envy. I need at least one viewing of SportsCenter in order to know my left and right. So to wake up around 7am is sleeping in by a couple of hours. Watch soccer game.
7:01am - Angus comes into the living room, stretches. Jumps on the chair. I look at him. He rubs his donkey noggin on my leg.
8:30am - Gunther stumbles in the living room. Falls asleep on his back.
8:45am - I take Gunther and Angus for a walk.
9:00am - Kami wakes up. This is phenomenal, because I want her sleeping/cooking a baby for as long as possible.
9:05am - Gunther jumps up on the couch with Kami. Gunther and Kami look at each other for 10-15 minutes. The emotional bond they share is incredible.
9:30am - Breakfast.
10:00am - Netflix.
12:00pm - Nap time
1:00pm - Angus licks my foot, I wake up. Drink coffee.
3:00pm - Kami wakes up from nap. When I hear the bedroom door open, I scramble to pretend that I haven't been playing video games for three hours in the middle of the day.
3:01pm - Give Kami remote, out of shame.
5:00pm - Netflix.
6:00pm - Dinner. This could be something Kami makes, or we talk about where to go for three and a half hours. More Netflix.
9:30pm - Jared gets home, we pretend like we haven't been sitting around all day.
10:30pm - Get ready for bed. I say I'm not tired. I read.
10:40pm - Hit slumbering face with book.
10:41pm - Turn out light.
That's pretty much been the last ten days, and it has been wonderful.
So what have we done? Nothing. We came to the realization that 10 days with nothing to do, nowhere to be, no diapers to change, probably wouldn't happen again until 2031. Here is a loose recap of our days:
7:00am - I wake up, make coffee, drink coffee, repeat steps two and three. Repeat steps two and three again. When not on vacation, I typically wake up around 5am, because as much as I don't like to admit it - I'm sort of high-maintenance. I can't just pop out of bed and be ready to go. Kami can do this, and it is a source of envy. I need at least one viewing of SportsCenter in order to know my left and right. So to wake up around 7am is sleeping in by a couple of hours. Watch soccer game.
7:01am - Angus comes into the living room, stretches. Jumps on the chair. I look at him. He rubs his donkey noggin on my leg.
8:30am - Gunther stumbles in the living room. Falls asleep on his back.
8:45am - I take Gunther and Angus for a walk.
9:00am - Kami wakes up. This is phenomenal, because I want her sleeping/cooking a baby for as long as possible.
9:05am - Gunther jumps up on the couch with Kami. Gunther and Kami look at each other for 10-15 minutes. The emotional bond they share is incredible.
9:30am - Breakfast.
10:00am - Netflix.
12:00pm - Nap time
1:00pm - Angus licks my foot, I wake up. Drink coffee.
3:00pm - Kami wakes up from nap. When I hear the bedroom door open, I scramble to pretend that I haven't been playing video games for three hours in the middle of the day.
3:01pm - Give Kami remote, out of shame.
5:00pm - Netflix.
6:00pm - Dinner. This could be something Kami makes, or we talk about where to go for three and a half hours. More Netflix.
9:30pm - Jared gets home, we pretend like we haven't been sitting around all day.
10:30pm - Get ready for bed. I say I'm not tired. I read.
10:40pm - Hit slumbering face with book.
10:41pm - Turn out light.
That's pretty much been the last ten days, and it has been wonderful.
Profiles in Fatherhood
From People Magazine
Published June 4, 2007:
Still, as Destin lay ailing with a life-threatening kidney condition last year, he assumed even his ne'er-do-well dad would come through. In January 2006, moved by Byron Perkins's plaintive appeal to help his son, a judge granted him a pass from jail to be tested to see if he was a match to donate a kidney.
Instead, Perkins, 38, who had recently been convicted on drug and weapons charges and was facing a minimum 25-year sentence, fled to Mexico with his girlfriend—leaving his son bitter and bewildered. "I don't know how he could lay his head down at night, knowing he ran away and left me up here to die," Destin told CNN.
Published June 4, 2007:
Still, as Destin lay ailing with a life-threatening kidney condition last year, he assumed even his ne'er-do-well dad would come through. In January 2006, moved by Byron Perkins's plaintive appeal to help his son, a judge granted him a pass from jail to be tested to see if he was a match to donate a kidney.
Instead, Perkins, 38, who had recently been convicted on drug and weapons charges and was facing a minimum 25-year sentence, fled to Mexico with his girlfriend—leaving his son bitter and bewildered. "I don't know how he could lay his head down at night, knowing he ran away and left me up here to die," Destin told CNN.
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