Posts from June, 2009
The quick brown fox jumped over the good, but lazy Parker family.
funny thing happened last night: I rolled over and went back to sleep.
as i have been whining about for months, ever since baby sparklet became a twinkle in the lady sparkler’s eyes, I’ve been sleeping like crap.
And while she is the one getting up to pee every three hours, i’m the light sleeper who is awake for 45 minutes after she crawls back in bed (the last 35 of those minutes listening to my beloved snore contentedly.)
so, last night at 2am when emily the cat emitted a huge shreak, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter, and prepared to be up … forever.
when I made it to the hallway, there was a rather startled (perturbed?) cat who had fallen asleep in front of the air conditioner intake. the system obviously came on during the middle of her sleep cycle, and she was less than pleased at the disturbance.
however, emily-the-cat-going-senile is not news … me patting her on the head for ten minutes while she calmed down, and then going *immediatley* back to sleep is the real story.
four months ago, something as benign as movement would have (or more specifically, *did* have) me up for 45 minutes. trauma (with the associated adreline rush) would have me up for two hours, minimum.
but this time? trauma. 10 minutes of head patting. back to sleep before my head hit the pillow.
I’m finally ready to be a father.
we have our favorites, but are very much in the “exploratory” stage of the naming process … and we are still adding as many names to the list as we are removing.
before last week, we had only discussed one rule of baby naming:
originally, the lady sparkler and i thought that one rule would guide us home, but now that we have spent some serious time talking about names, we have a couple new rules to add to the collection:
I think those are all the rules, though there are one or two corollaries we are also keeping in mind:
aside from that, it’s open season. let me know what you come up with …
(otherwise, it never would have been posted by 10:15 am … it takes me hours to write, and rewrite, and rewrite, and rewrite each post, so i would have had to skip work entirely on Friday and it still wouldn’t have been done until, you know, July.)
instead, i just wrote two posts. one if it was a boy, and one if it was a girl. considering that, as parents, we won’t pick out both a boy’s name and a girl’s name, maybe the first way to embarass baby sparklet is to share what the post would have been had she been a he.
my name would have been shannon, for the record.
so while yesterday’s post was first, i just made it look like it address the actually appointment. sadly, that was not the case, and fwiw i feel horrible about my deception.
my employers, however, feel much better about blogging during the work day … especially because they know how long it takes me to write anything.
so, sparklet was awake and lively through the whole sonogram, though not overwhelmingly cooperative. we got to hear the heartbeat again, and this time we got a much better recording.
about two minutes in, the sonogramologist (i make up words as i go along) asked if there was a bet about the gender. there wasn’t (we share the same checking account, so what’s the point) but before the doc could settle said non-existent bet, baby sparklet got shy and folded (her) legs right up.
the waiting, and the poking and the prodding seemed to go on forever — probably even more so for both mother and baby.
at one point, the doc called our beautiful-perfect-and-wonderfully-uncooperative baby “stubborn” to which i replied that she was obviously female, to which the lady sparkler replied that she was obviously our child.
so, while the doc kept it as suspenseful as she could, she let slip the female pronoun ten or twelve times before she finally managed to “motivate” baby sparklet into spreading them legs.
the rest, as they say, is history. the world is saved from baby Aesclaypius (although i did promise that Aesclaypiana would be on our short list).
now we just need to paint everything pink (kidding!) and come up with a wonderful, but anglo-friendly name.
i assumed she was just playing the odds based off her ancestry … the lady sparkler is the eldest of three daughters, her mother is the eldest of three daughters, and both her grandmother and great-grandmother were the eldest of three daughters.
that 13 girls in 5 generations. her maternal line is obviously hostile environment for boy sperm.
anyway, things became unbearable after i let slip that an old-wives-tale predicted that baby-mamas with girls in the pouch craved fruit, while those with boys craved meat. within two days she had “developed” a craving for anything strawberry that she could get her hands on, and it’s still going strong.
of course, i “knew” that — in her fervency — she was dead wrong. she was so certain it would be a girl, that i knew God would rise up and smite her … if for no other reason than the comedic value.
in fact, she was so certain it would be a girl, that she promised lightingchickknits that if the baby turned out to be a boy, we would name him Aesculapius.
for what it’s worth, i’m guessing that why she’s a girl, because while God likes a bit of Karma … he knew the ramifications of a male heir were truly severe.
but, besides narrowly avoiding destroying the life of our child through name selection, today is a landmark for another reason — it is the launch of our pregnancy’s facebook and twitter strategies.
it seems rediculous, but we actually spent a decent amount of time trying to figure out when it was “appropriate” to social market our little baby sparklet, and few issues sparked as much controversy with our friends to boot.
I’m the end, we decided that it’s been 20 weeks now … which means that we are over halfway to having a real live baby sparklet to mortifyingly embarass. so why not practice?
with that in mind, here is the pregnancy so far:
and now that we have a gender, i am going to head down to the pub and lift a pint to the fact that there will be no baby Aesculapius asking me what kind of drugs we were on when we picked names.
this week, it’s the Bolshoi Ballet’s turn.
i won’t bother reviewing the show (there is no need, as Robert Greskovic of the wall street journal saw the exact same show) but it was both outstanding, and thoroughly un-Russian.
just as glasnost melted Soviet politics, it also melted the soul-crushing need for Russian conformity. in ballet, that means everything is a step less precise — likely because the off-stepping member of the corps is no longer shot on sight.
don’t get me wrong, the production was beautiful — awash in color, with incredible individualistic performances, filled with old world emotion — and nearly perfect by today’s standards.
it’s just not the mechanical, stunningly in-unison, and bombastic production that i grew to love back in the day.
… which puts me in a small circle of people (along with the military industrial complex) secretly wishing another cold war would breakout.
needless to say, my happy little three hour ride turned into a six hour extravaganza … one from which my thighs (and butt) may never fully recover.