Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Valentine's Day

We had another ultrasound last week. Sonographer said she couldn’t tell yet about the sex but she made a guess based on heart rate. Wouldn’t you like to know…

The little shits are wearing me out and they haven’t even left the womb yet. I had the whole house painted less than three years ago, but silly me I had it done in beige throughout. Children need color, don’t you know? And I’m too fucking cheap to bring in yet another painter for a single room so I spent my first healthy weekend in a while taping off the molding, baseboards and doorways. After I moved everything out of the room into the other bedroom/attic/closets/garage. Fortunately, I had Jasmine there to point me in the right direction as I stumbled by with a futon on my back. What would I do without her?

Did I mention my wife is pregnant? Holyshit. She’s 17 weeks now and can I say DAMN? No stretch marks yet. I should know. I’ve been put in charge of staving them off with gallons of cocoa butter. She admitted stretch marks are purely genetic and no amount of cocoa butter can prevent them, but decided to put me in charge making sure that’s not a medical misstatement. What are the chances they’ll appear and I’ll be accused of slacking nonetheless? I smear that shit up to her earlobes and down to her knees just to be safe. Unless those kids drop to her ankles I’ve got it covered.

I have been excused from my voluntary coffee ban. She couldn’t take it anymore. I was drinking Red Bull to get the caffeine but at a buck and a quarter a pop she got tired of listening to me complain. Now I get a $3 coffee instead. Sucker. I also successfully defended coffee as a form of medication. It was brilliant. I’m sorry you missed it.

I had a dozen roses sent to the office for Valentine’s. She loves white roses. I know that isn’t the color of love, but since I waited until Monday morning to order them pickin's were slim. I made it up in creativity though. Only 10 of the roses were white. Two were pink. One for each baby. They didn’t have any blue roses so don’t read anything into the pink. Or do. The fact that I asked should tell you something. Unless I’m lying.

Our next ultrasound is next month some time. She told us without a doubt, assuming good positioning, she’ll be able to tell us the sex if we want to know it. You bet your ass I do. Jasmine is torn between learning the surprise now and learning it later. They’ve got suspicions based on heart rates but specifically told us that was unreliable and not to be counted on.

Kadybug spent the night the weekend before last when I was sick. I was sleeping in the other room to avoid getting Jazz sick and had crashed early on, before 9pm. About an hour later I woke myself coughing, rolled over, and in the shadows I saw the silhouette of someone standing 6 inches from my face. I screamed in a totally manly way and jumped to my feet in the darkness just to hear, “Hee hee, I ‘care you, Uncle Day. You ‘cream.” My pregnant wife came running to my rescue/humiliation.

Jasmine snickered. I wish boys upon her. Come on, chromosomes, don’t let me down.