The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘son’

Month 8, Or Get Up, Come On Get Down With the Sickness

I’ve done it again where I waited a bit to write about month 8 and now month 9 is on my mind (this funny new face he’s making! Oh and he’s doing the … stick your tongue out and … how do you describe it? Make a fart noise with your mouth. Oh and such progress on his crawl attempts!) … But no, this is month 8. (Also, as a reminder to myself, that means from day 1 of month 7 to day 1 of month 8.)

THE MONTH OF DISEASE.

The kiddo started daycare, going only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I dreaded it greatly … but he seemed to be ok! I will say, in the last 2 or so weeks, he is more inclined to be upset when I drop him off even though someone holds him pretty quickly. That’s miserable, but they do try to comfort him which is nice to see (yeah, I maybe loiter and stare through the window).

Here’s the timeline.

Daycare day 1 – ok, didn’t nap but survived, that night puked a ton, mom caught a fair amount adeptly using her body to absorb it (i.e. not intentional in the slightest) and dad hopped out of bed to help out

Daycare day 2 – ok, didn’t nap but survived

That Friday, my wife texted me around noon talking about how awful she felt and how she might ask me to come home early. I said ok, keep me posted. About 1:30 (?) I head home also feeling a little off, hoping I might be able to take a nap soon … nope, my wife has been yacking like a champ. Uh ohs.

I watch the kiddo while my wife rests/naps/showers/possibly yacks more? The kiddo and I had some low-key fun (read: I did as little as possible to keep him content because of feeling poorly).

About 5pm, I put him down, run to the bathroom, and appoint myself as mayor of yack town. My wife hears our dear boy starting to cry, comes downstairs, hears me and says, ‘oh no.’

I was on about a four hour delay of what my wife was going through.

Here’s how it went. First, you were off. Then, you were cold. Then freezing. Then suddenly very hot, and that was the sign it was time to make your way to your nearest porcelain pal. THEN! After that bit of fun, why, you felt GREAT! For about 20 minutes. Then repeat.

It was a miserable, miserable night for the three of us. The next morning the kiddo got up at … who knows, 530? 6? I got up with him and thank goodness he either felt off as well, or was the world’s most understanding baby, because he let me just lay beside the pack n play while he played or spaced out for almost an hour.

As the day went on I was able to eat, and Sunday I woke up feeling more human. Oh, but wait, is that a tickle in my throat?

DAYCARE. You … you factory of sick. You container of gross. You germ-infested cesspool with cute babies and sweet teachers. (I finally went to the doc after about a month of having a cough … turns out it takes a 6-week course, but I did get some drugs because my fever and sore throat were returning for round two.)

Enough whining. Let’s get to some fun stuff.

This month I had a hiking backpack that I bought for myself arrive, and we used it as well! It is about 3 times as wide as my profile, so I look a little funny when wearing it, but it’s got a big seat for the kiddo and he loves it! For the first week or two, battling illnesses and bad weather, we didn’t use it except to wander inside the house. Then, maybe two weekends ago, my wife and I went to a little hiking area which is all flat and I was pointing out birdies, and chirping, and trees, and the green coming back this time of year and … oh, he’s asleep. It was nice and toasty out and that rhythmic rocking must be soothing. Still, my wife and I got to do an hour or so walk which was great.

Also this month – we had our first tooth arrive! And shortly thereafter, tooth number two! There was a lot of drool preceding these little guys, and now that they are here, I have to say … good LORD. The chomp strength on this tiny human is no joke. Before I’d let him gnaw on my hand to his heart’s content, now it’s like some sort of weird Russian roulette. Because he’ll chomp, chomp, chomp, and then BAM, really gets his little teeth into you and they leave a mark. Prior to my kiddo having his two little teeth I always found it strange/slightly creepy looking when a baby had just their first few teeth. But with my son it’s of course adorable. This proves one of two things: my son is more adorable than all other babies (possible), or it is yet another case of being the parent is a blinding experience (also possible).

The kiddo is also now hitting things for fun occasionally. He’ll take a block and really just beat the snot out of it on the kitchen counter. He also will occasionally smack my arm while I change him …which is fine compared to … WRESTLEMANIA! (Credit goes to my wife on that name.) With the kiddo’s ever-growing desire to crawl it seems like we are getting fewer and fewer calm diaper changes. You put him down on the changing pad and boom, he’s flipping over and up on his hands and knees. You pick him up, put him back down, do one snap or two on his outfit and … gah, child, no, stop, stop … He’s back over. I don’t know how a little guy is that slippery but it’s really difficult to prevent the flip. He’ll also grab a hold of just about anything within reach. Have some drawstrings on your hoody? Boom, he’s got that. Hey dad, is that something covering my penis to prevent me from peeing on your face? Yoink! Looks tasty! It is an entertaining, adorable, and surprisingly not that frustrating battle.

The kiddo also began his crawling endeavors this month. He managed to get to the classic crawl pose (as mentioned above) … and then he sorta … stayed there. He is definitely making progress. It just seemed as though the classic crawl pose arrived all the sudden and then there was confusion with what to do with it. Do I fling out my legs and get frustrated? Hmm, let me try that for a week and see. Oh, how about I kinda just plop my head down between my arms so it looks like I’m doing my evening prayers? Sure, I’ll try that too. He is making progress, I am just so anxious (and terrified) of him making it to the grand next step of actually moving. I would love for him to figure it out, because I am looking forward to him being on the ground and excitedly moving rather than looking around with frustration at a world that’s just out of reach.

And this post is wicked long, so I’ll mention in passing he is also able to sit independently much more. Put him in the poppy and he’s golden … for a minute, maybe 2 or 3, then oooh I’d love to chew on the tag on this boppy or hey that baby in the mirror looks cool I’ll go attempt to headbutt him.

That’s all for this old man.

Until next month. If disease doesn’t kill me first.

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Month 7, Or Oh the Places You’ll Go (Developmentally)

It’s a few days until the kiddo is 7 months old and I thought I’d go ahead and get a start on this post. Hopefully, dare I say it, finish it today too.

This month I had a personal success which was abandoning the idea of reading a book. I had checked it out from the library and it was just eh. But I kept on. I would read a few pages before bed, feel disheartened at how much there was to go, and pass out. But then one day – BOOM – I said NO MORE. I re-read an old comic book series instead. This may seem like a non-accomplishment, but giving up on a book is a challenge for me. Now I’m reading The Handmaid’s Tale.

Let’s get into month 7, shall we?

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I have also learned I am much more inclined to spoil the boy than myself. Frivolous spending ahoy!

I have mentioned this before, but the doc advised we keep the kiddo out of day care for a long time. Multiple docs at the NICU suggested a start date of April. And, with flexible work, my wife only working two days a week, and very helpful grandmas, we will accomplish that goal!

Part of that involved me taking vacation days on the two days a week my wife works for three weeks. One of those weeks was during month 6, but two of the weeks (four days of kiddo and dad time) fell during this past month!

One day the kiddo and I headed to the library, a little shop, and then a tortilla shop (they make delicious burritos) so I could load up on food before a long nap drive. The library was fun, the kiddo LOVES the front facing Bjorn (a new delight in life) and he will kick his legs and or give huge smiles when excited. And he is a little charmer and flash a big smile at strangers no problem.*

From the library we head to a few little shops (including buying my wife her Christmas gift – BOO YAH PREPAREDNESS) and the interactions with strangers continue. It is always ladies, or old men. Never men my age or really any male I’ll say between 10 and 75. This was ESPECIALLY true at the tortilla shop where I am surrounded by construction workers. Not one ‘aw look at the cute baby’ instead just stares like I am an alien. I will say that I don’t think I ever noticed another dad and baby. I noticed moms and babies, and moms and dads and babies … but no dude and baby. What’s the deal, fellas? Why so lazy?

That was a lot of chatter. Let’s do some quick highlights.

The sleep stuff continues to be pretty good … He had occasional nights where he would wake up and have a long cry, which is BRUTAL because of our ‘sleep wave’ method where you don’t really do much to comfort the kiddo. But for the most part it has been great.

My mom was in town this past week and my wife and I felt very nervous about the sleep. It’s one thing to feel bad for your crying baby when it’s just you … but to have your mom 10 feet away while your kiddo cries and you stare at a timer? Oof. We ended up ‘cheating’ a few times this past week which actually felt pretty great. My wife rocked him back to sleep and put him down in bed between us. Waking up next to his tiny adorable body was fun. Another night I went in about 5:15 am because he had woken up (and we prefer him to sleep till 6), I rocked him to sleep then just snuggled with his tiny head tilted 6am. And this morning my mom is out of town but he was having a rough go from 430-5 am, so my wife fed him then laid him between us. We all woke up naturally about 715am and he looked back and forth between my wife and I, taking turns reaching his little hands out to squeeze our noses. It was very odd, and delightful.

One thing that has helped and hurt his sleep is that he is now rolling from his back to his tummy. When he rolls onto his tummy and is happy about it, hello glorious sleep. When he rolls onto his tummy and feels regret … one of us slips into his room, rolls him onto his back, and then sneaks out. Generally this leads to a tiny brief cry and then calm. The odd thing is he KNOWS how to roll from tummy to back, but it’s like he suddenly finds himself in that position and says ‘WHAT HAVE I DONE!? WHAT IS THIS PERSONAL HELL!?’

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Semi-pictured and also a new favorite thing: the mirror! We have one on the floor for tummy time social hour.

He also often has a pretty intense workout regime before falling asleep. You go through the routine, put him down (described in last month’s post) and then he rolls around, chews on his hands, chews on his lovie, rolls back and forth a few times, sometimes onto his tummy and then off. It’s a lot of work going on. My wife said he’s like a gymnast making sure he uses the whole floor space.

Another fun and simple pleasure in life is discovering him figure out his thumb. Before he would generally suck on his middle and ring finger (I don’t know why). This month he has figured out, I guess, how to pop his thumb out because boom, that is a new favorite too. His thumb is basically a slightly large tic tac, so you generally hear a lot of slurping when he is using his thumb.

A funny thing that is happening this month (funny to me that is) – he is very easily distracted while breastfeeding. My wife used to be able to call someone or watch TV while feeding the kiddo. Now? If she even coughs while feeding him he’ll look up at her. It could be a blank look, or a sly smile, or outright laughter on a few occasions.

Speaking of laughter – his laughs are more common now. Here are his favorite things … my impression of a chicken, crazy chase games (where I hold him and pretend to chase his mom around, then she chases us back), and one glorious time where my wife dropped a toy of his (a ball) and then kept hitting it instead of grabbing it to pick it up. He laughed at her. Genuine, honest to goodness, I’m laughing at you, not with you. It was glorious.

I recognize that this post is insanely long but you know what? A few more.

I was at a Costco on one of my dad-and-kiddo days. I was wearing the Bjorn and had finished my shopping. (Including two slices of pizza and a soda to go for my lunch-nap-drive.) I headed to the bathroom with my happy shopping pal (he loves Costco … well, he seems to love about every location where he can people watch and/or chill in the front-facing Bjorn). I walked inside and, keeping with my constant chatter when walking around with him I said, “ok little mister, let’s do this.” I also happened to notice at that moment a stall door was closed. It delights me to this day to think a stranger was sitting on a Costco toilet, and that stranger thinks he overhead someone talking to his penis … and that the penis was nicknamed, “little mister.”

Ok a few quick hits: he’s had a bunch of different foods this month! Peas, spinach, green beans, and peanut butter. Not surprisingly, peanut butter was the only hit.

He has also had little slivers of solo sitting. Normally my wife or I sit like we’re doing the old grade school sit-and-reach (which I think I could usually reach about to my knees, I’m not very flexible), and then the kiddo sits so that he can balance on either leg and won’t really fall. He has probably hit up to a minute or two of solo sitting. Look out world!

And last but certainly not least this month were two visitors/babysitters/grandmas. Both my mom and my wife’s mom came out to help us extend the kiddo’s daycare free life to seven months. Pretty fantastic. It’s going to be heartbreaking to drop him off at daycare soon, especially since he has just recently entered a ‘stranger danger’ phase of life (previously anyone could pick him up, now if someone else picks him up he locks eyes on my wife or I). But, it is amazing that he got to spend so much time around family. And my wife and I are very fortunate to have such kind moms, and ones who are able to afford to do us such a big favor.

Ok sports fans. This one was truly a blog post just for me. Til month 8.

*Except today. This was pretty funny to me. My wife, the kiddo and I headed to a downtown area to check out shops, walk around, sip coffee, and just enjoy the day. The kiddo is in the front-facing Bjorn and we are in line at a coffee shop. Two college aged girls walk up and one of them gets relatively close and says, ‘your baby is gorgeous!’ She gives him a big smile and for the first time ever he does not smile in response … he gives her a huge pout and a little semi-cry. She looks aghast, seems genuinely hurt … and I start laughing. I kiss his little cheek till he cracks a smile. The rest of the day out smiles, and smiles, and smiles for any and all strangers. Random ladies stop and ogle and talk to him and he grins and kicks. The mystery of the sad-face girl will live on. I wasn’t laughing at you girl, I was laughing at the situation. (She was wearing overalls, maybe he thought they were his.)

Attn: Ellen (12/20/17)

Front

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Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

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The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

I didn’t know the ‘Little Critters’ postcards included one of my son! Ha! Ha! Ha!

No, really though, my wife gave birth to a skunk. It’s a medical anomaly, and I find it disturbing.

Please send help.

Sincerely,

DumbFunnery.com

OR @DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

Thoughts From a 4am Rocking Chair Session

  • A child’s cry is magical – what else sends someone into a panic and flurry of activity so well? I can picture some sales person or ad executive having a child and thinking, “how can I recreate this for my upcoming ford f150 campaign? If only people could hear the ad, freak out and run to their nearest dealership in an emotional panic!”
  • I like to pretend I’m an overworked waiter at a restaurant and the chef has gone nuts and only makes one dish – milk. Then I have to talk up the milk, it’s organic, it’s fresh, the milk supplier is treated well, etc. My son may grow up crazy, but he’ll be creative and crazy?
  • The sight of tiny snaps will cause my tremors of fear even when I’m old
  • Maybe some kids don’t want to listen to music from their parents generation because their parents sang terrible versions of it, off key, lacking rhythm, and with words changed to sing about poop and pleading with their child to not cry. Then, years later, mom or dad says, ‘hey I loved this song when I was your age’ and the child instinctively clenches and begins to scream.
  • Is my son’s urine in a league for evil?
    • It does escape whenever it has the chance. Diaper gone … MOVE MOVE MOVE.

The Kiddo – Part I – Watership Down

First of all, I’ve never read Watership Down, and I ought to.

Second of all, it’s been a while, blogosphere! Hi, friend! I had wanted to sit down and write a few times since all of the craziness of the last month kicked off, but I was pretty busy AND it felt wrong to be reflective about an ongoing though. Maybe it was superstition, I don’t know, but I didn’t want to pause to think when there were still so many things going on that could be scary. This is still the case, but the frenetic pace has slowed – as I write this, my kiddo is in front of me in his bassinet on the coffee table and my wife is upstairs catching a much-needed nap.

***

Thursday

‘Brad, Brad, Brad, Brad.’

My wife was downstairs saying my name with a note of alarm. Her brother and his wife were driving up to visit us, and I assumed it was some mild nuisance of a this-house-better-be-impeccable variety.

I was packing in our bedroom, preparing for our drive to Santa Fe the next day. We were going to catch the opera (it’s outdoors there, and my grandparents used to love doing that) and enjoy the foods, art, and tourist shops of downtown Santa Fe for a weekend.

I came to the top of the staircase and looked down, my wife said, ‘I think my water just broke.’

She was on the phone calling her doctor, I rushed back to our room to grab a hoody (we had done an ER trip a month before and it was cold in that hospital), shoes, wallet, keys, and a hoody for her.

Thankfully, we live 10 minutes from the hospital, and yet, I couldn’t help but think proudly as I calmly rushed us to the ER, I bet I would be good if I was a cop in a car chase.

I dropped off the Mrs. at the entrance and zoomed to a parking spot. Someone came down quickly, within minutes, and we began walking to an elevator to go to the birthing center area. The night prior we had taken a tour of the hospital as part of our childbirth class. The Mrs. had ironically asked a question, ‘does anyone ever not make it through the whole class? Because they deliver early?’ I had spent the tour thinking about the fact that they deliver fresh cookies every day at 4 pm to the birthing center. How can I get my wife to time her labor so that I can leave the room right after he’s born to have a few cookies?

A nurse quickly came to see us, a test was performed and yep, her water had broken. The midwife came in and she had the nurse do a second test, a different one, to verify, and yep, water still broken.

She was just shy of 32 weeks pregnant.

***

We were at that hospital from about 8 pm til around midnight. It was terrifying, emotional, and that odd mix of fast and painfully slow. They gave my wife a steroid shot, one of two that she would hopefully receive. The purpose of the shot is to speed up the development of the baby’s lungs. Preterm babies can have respiratory issues, and especially those born in Colorado with the higher elevation. Later, one doc informed us, a 36-weeker born in Houston (sea level) could go home right away, whereas a 36-weeker in Colorado is more likely going to need a visit to the NICU. Ideally, a woman can stay pregnant long enough to get one steroid shot, a second steroid shot 24 hours later, and then hold off on labor for 48 hours to let the steroids take full effect.

They also put an IV in my wife and began a heavy dose of magnesium, which dampens the body’s ability to have contractions and helps the baby’s brain. A two-fer, if you will. This stuff hit hard and fast, my wife described it as taking a shot of bourbon while sitting in a dry sauna. She had that warmth go down her throat (even though it was an IV) and felt hot. Her eyes immediately got a bit distant and you could tell she was under the impact of a powerful drug.

After all of the initial hullabaloo and checking, the pace slowed a bit as we waited for an ambulance to transfer the Mrs. The hospital where we had envisioned having our son could only support babies 34 weeks and up, and we were not looking like we would hit that mark.

***

When the ambulance arrived I swung by home to pack clothes, say hi to my brother-in-law and his wife, pet the dog, and scoot.

At the new hospital my wife arrived around the same time I did (shhh, nobody sped …).

While on her ambulance ride to this hospital, my wife was having contractions once every four or five minutes. If you don’t know, that’s worrisome. We wanted, really, really wanted, for her to stay pregnant.

Thankfully, after she arrived, the contractions slowed and eventually stopped. We buckled in for a long night’s non-rest at the hospital, with a nurse coming to check her vitals and usually help her to the bathroom every two hours. She had the magnesium, antibiotics (the ‘water’ is one of three barriers to infection for a baby, with that gone the antibiotics came in), and an IV of fluids all being pumped in. In addition, her belly had bands on it to monitor her heart rate, the baby’s heart rate, and any contractions. Every two hours they took her temperature, her blood pressure, and asked her to rate her pain. (What on earth is that rate your pain thing?)

A doc came to visit us, I think, and the NICU charge nurse, it was a happening place.

Ideally, she would stay pregnant until 34 weeks, when the risk of infection outweighs the gains of continuing to let the little guy develop, and then they would induce. In the meantime, during those two weeks, she would be on bed rest at the hospital, and if she showed signs of infection, they would induce or carry out an emergency c-section.

Stress, you old so and so, I didn’t know you were in town to see me?! You fu – nevermind, my mom reads this.

The goal: relax! Just relax! But if anything seems wrong, dear God hold tight.

On the plus side, the staff in the ‘birthing center ICU’ as we came to call it, and the whole hospital, were amazing. The amount of negative experiences or exchanges, given how stressful the whole ordeal was, is impressive. One of these sweet people went out and got a labor bed for me, which I slept on that night (and many nights to come).

***

Meanwhile, miles and miles away, my wife’s mom was in action. She had been in a play when the Mrs. called her during our ride to the ER, but when she found out what was happening she began to look into tickets.

This was all right before the big eclipse (doesn’t that feel like forever ago?) and Denver appeared to be a popular destination because they were not having luck finding tickets. But then, aha!, there’s one!

But wait … they booked a flight to Denver from … Dallas!? And they live in Houston. And the flight is leaving not too long from now so … ROAD TRIP!

Stress, huh? It plays tricks on the ability to process information.

***

Friday

Lauren’s bro and his wife swing by to chit chat. It’s lovely, it’s enjoyable, and it’s slightly education for the bro’s wife who is pregnant with twins. Twins are much more likely to arrive early, and at one point during our NICU stay there were four sets of twins.

After they take off it’s only a short while before her folks arrive. Reinforcements!

A little hello, a little how’s it goings, a few tears between the wife and her mama, and then we settle in for some good old fashioned hospital hang out time.

I headed home to shower, see the dog, pack new clothes, and I also took a shower and cried like a baby. I had been go-go-go, handling any little request from my wife, and oozing stress (did you know googling ‘long term health effects 33 week baby’ can result in sheer terror?). The crying was like a sudden thunderstorm, it surprised me, but it was a little refreshing. Don’t let anyone fool you, boys and girls, crying can be cathartic.

I changed, grabbed my bag, and headed back to the hospital. By this point it was mid-afternoon and we were approaching 24 hours since the first steroid shot. This was a big and happy milestone.

Every hour felt important and a smidge dire. One of the doctors or nurses told us that every 8 hours he is in the womb is one day less for our NICU stay.

Every 8 hours was divided into 2 hour chunks, because every 2 hours a nurse would come to check vitals. One might assume that every four hours was also a nice chunk, because in the afternoons I would go hunt for fresh baked cookies (they delivered them to the birthing center at this hospital, too!).

***

Sunday

Somehow, we made it to Sunday, when we were told my wife would be transferring to the antepartum/postpartum area, and not only that, we would be moving to a room with two windows! Look out world!

Sunday night, at around 9 pm (who am I kidding, I know exactly when, 9:21 pm), represented 48 hours since the second steroid shot. The kiddo had already benefited greatly from mom sitting tight and him keepin’ on.

Also in the postpartum area, we were down to three vitals checks a day, and no longer constant monitoring of her! Look out world! Instead, in this new setup, a nurse would come in during the morning, early afternoon, and evening to check on her vitals and the kiddo’s heart rate. Thirty minutes of monitoring and then they’d be off … unless, of course, the kiddo’s heart rate drops below the tolerable threshold in which case they’d need to stick around.

Oh, and did you know, when your water breaks, and the little guy moves in the womb, he can sometimes grab the umbilical cord which will cause his heart rate to drop and a nurse to say, ‘well … we were about to take you off [the monitor], but then we saw this little dip …’

Oh yes, our child is a champion of timing.

Also, fun fact, amniotic fluid (the ‘water’) is regenerated by a pregnant woman, and part of the recipe for amniotic fluid is baby urine!

The nurses also came by every X hours for a new dose of medicine. Solid sleep was not a part of the hospital stay.

***

That Work Week

Lauren’s step-dad left Monday, but her mom said I’m here til he’s here (he meaning the baby). From day one of the hospital til the next chapter, The Kiddo – Part II – TBD, we were in the hospital 10 days.

I went to work during the course of that week with the hope and expectation that my wife and her mom would be bored, restless, and watching Project Runway in the hospital. Instead, it turned out to be much more lively. Some highlights of that week are as follows:

  • With her water broken, my wife would sometimes experience pretty intense pain when the baby would move around (no water = no shield for his movements crashing around in there)
  • Bed rest can cause vertigo, or possibly the intense dizziness that yielded my wife throwing up was caused from side-effects of medicine … know what’s scary? When your wife wakes up and pukes and can’t get to the bathroom that’s less than 10 feet away without wheelchair assistance
  • Baby heart rate drops leading to extra ultrasounds and a short but scary trip back to the birthing center ICU
  • A raising white blood cell count, which potentially indicated a brewing infection … This was watched closely, and every time someone would pop by to draw blood I would excuse myself (I’m not so good with needles, thankfully, my pin cushion wife is much better than me about that)

***

Random Thoughts

  1. I was walking into work one morning when I saw a rabbit. This is really common here. We have a bunch of rabbits that live in our backyard, and all around the neighborhood. Because of this, we started calling the kiddo ‘the littlest bunny.’ Seeing a rabbit on the way into work I wanted to make it mean something – a rabbit! Ok, that’s a good sign … right? Or maybe it means he’s coming now!? Then it struck me, it must have been so easy for ancient peoples to concoct gods or various meanings for all kinds of things. I felt so powerless in this whole situation, and even though there was plenty of science and educated people talking to us about what was going on, I wanted to assign meaning to all kinds of arbitrary things.
  2. My wife was on a lot of powerful drugs, lacking sleep, and feeling stressed. As a result, she was in a sort of perpetual beaten down state. In this state, she had a funny habit of everything getting the same level of urgency. ‘Brad,’ said with a sort of sad and concerned voice, which would immediately awaken me or draw me out of whatever distraction I had thrown myself into (generally stupid apps), ‘I can’t find my chap stick.’ Ridiculous to have it awaken fear in me every time I heard my name said with that voice, right? BUT. With the SAME EXACT TONE, ‘Brad? … I feel too dizzy to get up, can you help me?’ I mean, come on.
  3. I had been reading, very slowly, one of those what to expect books, and you can sure read a lot of pages in a hurry when your kiddo is taking the bullet train to the station.

***

I doubt I encapsulated all my thoughts or feelings with much articulation. But I wanted to get this down for myself. I’m sure I’ll look back on this and feel like I left out big chapters in this story, but up next I’ll talk about the day he said ‘READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!’

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