Finally Fat…And Marie’s Hating it Until She’s ‘Actually’ Pregnant . . .

 

 So, we haven’t focused too much on the whole “physical pregnancy process” in the last few weeks. So, it’s time for an update.

   Marie has officially started showing. I’m thrilled, as I’m sure you can deduce. To her, the problem is currently “I just look fat.” Never in the 3.5 years we have thus far been together has she shown any inkling of care for what other people thought. There are moments when it would have come in handy, maybe just a little, but, still never cared, until now.

I just look fat.

But you aren’t fat. You are “with fetus”

Stop calling it that, it’s weird.

That’s WHAAT IT IIIS . . . Don’t get mad at me, get mad at science.

It’s a gross sounding word, and I don’t want to look fat.

You don’t look FAT. You look pregnant.

Maybe to you, that’s because you KNOW I’m pregnant.

Well, that’s a good thing. I’d be real mad if I thought you were just fat and it turned out you were 4.5 months pregnant and you hadn’t told me.

See, you would think I looked fat if you didn’t know I was pregnant. Other people don’t know I’m pregnant.

(Shoot, she has a valid point, think. . . . think. . . . redirect the conversation…) Your face and arms don’t look fat (score one for my cleverness) and since WHEN do you care what other people think?

Yeah. But still…. (As she stands in front of the mirror doing that sideways look thing you women do. . . )

   We have this conversation almost every day. Same. Exact. Conversation. I’ll tell her she looks beautifully pregnant, but the general response is “I don’t want to look beautifully pregnant. I want to look NORMAL pregnant.”

   To which I remind her that she does absolutely NOTHING normal. And I MEAN nothing. At all. It’s one of those things that you come to appreciate about a person as part of their personality, except with Marie it’s also one of those things that you come to appreciate as part of her honest and sincere one in a millionness.

   As for the ‘Wee-baby Sheamus,’ as I have started calling it… (this poor kid is going to have such a gender crisis if it turns out to be a girl…Also, that’s a reference to the cartoon Archer, which if you haven’t seen and you have any kind of appreciation for the concept of “adult humor” and any kind of appreciation for cartoons, you need to see this. It’s on Netflix.) we are days away from the 18^th week; speaking of the gender.

   However, I am flying home in a week so we are waiting for the 12^th of June when I get back to have the ultrasound to tell us if we need to start buying ‘monster truck/construction/dinosaur’ or ‘whatever is out there in girl stuff’ –themed things from this point on…. Yay technology.    

   Also, I am tired of calling my baby it. She hates the word fetus, but has no opinion on ‘it.’ Every time I say ‘it’ I immediately feel like a parent that knows nothing about their kid and is totally uninvolved in ‘its’ life. Dang it. Failing already. That’s one of the reasons for starting to call it ‘Wee-baby Sheamus,’ as it is better than the word ‘it.’

   Also, according to my trusty pregnancy app, in the 17^th week the baby can hear. I have been having lots of fun with this. I will lean in towards Marie’s belly, say something at a mid-level volume and when she says “What?” I immediately respond with “I wasn’t talking to you. . . “

   In addition to the also, her coworkers now call her the Vessel, which I think is quite funny. She doesn’t, but has accepted it; until I started throwing it out every once in awhile at home… :)

Does the Vessel want to be refueled with Chicken or Spaghetti for dinner?

That’s NOT funny. . . . and spaghetti I guess…

 Well that’s all I’ve got for now. I’m looking forward to going home. I’m OH so sure that interaction with my Ma and family alike will result in blogging gold.

 

   In the back of my head I heard “What the HELL is that supposed to mean?” in my mother’s voice and tone as I wrote that… She then throws a ‘Oh, WHATever…” out in response to that and a “dammit, stop it” to the whatever; as she has a bad habit of stopping her reading to comment, then gets madder at each known outburst, it’s kinda like controllable Turret’s….  Love ya Ma.

 More coming soon, stay close and refresh your browser often….

 

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Car Seat+Stroller+$50 gift card(All Brand New) = $110

$110.

Yes. Ladies and Gentlemen. I welcome you to the blog post about one of the best deals. Ever. It has been said that my deal finding skills are like that of an eagle, hippo, Oprah Winfrey, and that Mom who won the coupon wars show awhile back…. Combined. . . .

 

All right, let us get down to business. Please, dim the lights and cue the drum roll. (For effect, play this as you read the next few lines. . . . come on, it’ll make you laugh, then you’ll remember it’s supposed to go with this post, you’ll revisit, and be amazed. . . )

Jogger:

PLUS

Car seat:

PLUUUUSSS!!!!

$50 Gift Card:

Normally totaling $260 if bought not on sale and separately . . . . . .

ALL FOR THE GRAND TOTAL OF!!!!

$110.

BAM! Or, as Arthur, Marie’s three-year-old nephew says I taught him(???) . . . BOOM-YA!!!!

I know. I know. You are pretty jealous… BUT… If you act quickly (all the photos should take you straight to their respective pages. . .), you too can be the recipient of such a deal. Target has a super sale going on. Both are discounted and if you buy them online together, you get a $50 gift card. Now, to be fair, the actual price paid at checkout was $160. But with that $50 card thrown into the equation, which you KNOW you’ll use (it’s like free diapers, or in our case, the Baby Bullet . . . . which sweetens the deal EVEN MORE) It comes out to be only $110.

Basically, if you are still shopping for a good, safe and high quality car seat/stroller combo, get this stuff today before the sale ends. If ya missed it…. Sorry. Gotta stay on these websites like a 12-year-old girl on Justin Beiber’s fan site. I’ve been checking every morning looking for deals. I passed one site up that had 15% off on both, they are normally like $90 on a good website, but this site had their prices jacked up to $130 for each. GEDDOUWDUH HERE!

Now we have a crib, being donated by Marie’s sister, a tub, the jumper seat thing (not the one they spin around in, but the ‘almost bouncy put ‘em in there when you need to get stuff done’ for a newborn seat… you know what I mean), a car seat, a jogger stroller (I don’t jog… but I want a nifty, nimble stroller that can turn on a dime…) we’ll be getting the Baby Bullet here soon, a TON of clothes…. What’s next on the list?

Deal finding is changing my life. Now if I could only get a half off deal on a new Toyota Tacoma double cab 4WD with the TRD and SR5 packages in Charcoal Gray. . . . . It’s what my hopes and dreams are made of. Dang Nabbit I want one….

Well, time for another cup of coffee and some packing of photo equipment. I am headed home to shoot my Aunt’s wedding in just over a week. Looking forward to being home with the fam for a bit, and flying Southwest the WHOLE way there. Tellingdad.com explained what it’s like for us 6’6” and above folks to fly in coach normally. . . Check his blog out by the way, he is REALLY funny, I especially like this post!! Well, that’s it for now. . .

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The First Ultrasound, WITH Pictures!!!!

 

So, we had our first ultrasound. 147-156 was the heartbeat rate, but it was doing leg kicks like it was impersonating Michael Phelps…. Who listens to wives tales anyways . . . . . PLEASE be a boy!?

I think I slightly disappointed the ultrasound lady and Marie. It was exciting, but I wasn’t like oh man, there actually IS a BABY in there. . . . For me it’s already hit. I know it and I have mentally grasped it. I am excited and it was totally awesome to see my little me in there. Which, boy or girl, it’s definitely MY genes in there, the legs were astoundingly long.

See? That’s a lot of legs. (It’s upside down, the legs are the V / U looking thing, the feet didn’t show up in this one, so it’s just the legs you see)

Unfortunately, it’ll be another couple weeks before we can tell the gender.  So, more waiting. It’s like a preliminary round of “learn your patience” for when the kid actually gets here.

So now I have ultrasound photos, and I am trying to not be that person that runs around forcing people to be pretend excited about an unrecognizable mass of grays and whites.

“There’s the leg, see right here, oh no, sorry, that’s the arm, isn’t it cute?”

Just nod, smile and agree people, it’ll only get worse once I actually have the kid…. Photos galore.

So, anywho, that’s the latest. Now, allow me to force some of my ultrasound photos onto all of you ;)

 

 

 

The last one is a hand, in case you missed it. That is pretty crazy. That’s my little baby….. Yay for us!! In another couple of weeks we’ll know the gender, and then we can shop our faces off appropriately. Hope they don’t get it wrong, haha. Well, that’s all for now!

(WHOA! A short post. . . . didn’t think it was possible. . . but I did it!)

 

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$38.50 | 89 Pieces of Clothing | Beating My Ma at Deal Finding. . .

My mother and I are always competing. In everything we do it’s either outwitting the other or straight competition. Buying baby clothes has been no exception.

So, I wrote out that I THOUGHT my mother was beating me. Then I said, well, wait a second. Let’s bust out some math skills and see within each deal how much was paid per item.

I am winning by a margin of 3 cents per item.

Close, but, still winning.

Take that, Ma!

Post deleted and updated.

Now that we have gotten that out-of-the-way and the world knows that I am in the lead as the family deal finder….. Let’s just look, real quick, at how much $38.50 can get you in the world of yard sales. I would like to point out that none of this is in ANY way stained up or worn out. It’s all side-by-side looking as good as new.

Set one: 23 total pieces of clothing. $12 spent for a grand total of .52 cents per item:

(By the way, that’s .52 cents for that thick full body jacket)

Deal Numero Two (this is my Mom’s find): 44 total pieces of clothing on a total of $18 (she said less than $20, so I am giving her $18):

I have to be honest….. She does have things very tightly piled here. So, oh it hurts…. my fingers ar re seaeizing up. . . .  .  .  … .   she. MIghgt. Be. Winning. . . .

AH! That was really tough to type. MIGHT. Should there be some things that I can’t see in there. Anyways, that’s 44 pieces as I can see it, at an estimated $18 spent (known to be less than $20, for ALL that… good job, Ma!) for a grand total of .40 cents spent per item.

And now, for the currently winning deal (that means MY latest find. . . . )

Set 3. With 23 pieces and only $8.50 spent.

I’d like to take note, before we go over the per item amount in this particular batch of clothing, the content of what we have here. A heavy knit sweater/pants combo, 2 pairs of denim, a pair of corduroys, the khaki pants, and the center of my focus here, the OshKosh brand overalls AND the Vans shoes. Now. At 23 total items for only $8.50, that’s a total of .37 cents per item. .37 cents for Van’s brand shoes. Check out how much these are new. If you don’t feel like clicking a link, that’s $37 bucks. Oh, and the OshKosh overalls, hmmmmm…… Googling it brings back about $16 bucks new. So. That’s more than $50 for just the Vans and the overalls. Now, unless I want my baby to really look like a hillbilly, I am going to need a shirt to go under the overalls. Let’s see. Oh, google shopping brings back $3.50 as the cheapest plain T on the first page. I’m not even at a buck twenty yet for that same outfit ‘used.’ Also, I didn’t count the socks or the bib in my final count for competitive comparison. I don’t see socks that small as an item worth paying money for. It’s like three cents worth of fabric. They gave me all of those (8 pairs) for a quarter (which means I paid a penny and a half each, for the record).

Bottom line? This yard sale shopping has been extremely profitable for us. Saving a ton of money, and might already be to the point that the kid’s only going to get to wear each piece of clothing once before s/he out grows it all. And for those really crunching numbers, that averages out just in these photos and not including the little here and there’s that we have picked up (yes, there are even more, I’ll have to lay them ALL out and get a photo…), to be .43 cents per item. I’d say that’s a pretty good price for something we are only going to use for 3 months and then sell to the next person. We’ll sell them for .50 cents a piece and make a .07 cent gain per item. That would be a $6.23 profit…. and if we REALLY wanted to we could probably get like $4 for the big heavy jacket thing on its own, and a dollar for the overalls. It’s all about the frugalling.

That’s all for now, ultrasound is tomorrow. Super stoked!!!! Really hoping we can tell the gender at 16ish weeks. We’ll find out tomorrow. More later…

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Our First Scare!

I will start this post like a Scorsese movie; with the end. Because I think it’s important that you know everything in the long run is ok. Using the word miscarriage in a post can really scare people, like the experience did to me, and that’s not fair. So, know now, everything is fine and we have a 14 week along baby (technically fetus, but, who likes that word….) with a strong heartbeat. Now, let’s talk about the first insane scare that I am being told is ‘just part of parenting….” Awesome.

My phone lit up while I was at work the other day; Marie was calling me.

Odd, Marie doesn’t normally get signal at work, why is she off the boat (she’s in the Navy).

I called her back from my work phone, as I get crappy signal in my office.

“I’m headed to the ER, I’m having a little bit of spotting and I think I need to get my RhoGam shot. Don’t panic, I just wanted to call you so you didn’t hear it from someone else that I was in the ER and didn’t know.”

Spotting? What…. Oh. Shit.

She assured me it wasn’t serious and I shouldn’t panic, I didn’t need to come out. Then she hung up.

I got online and looked it up to make sure I shouldn’t panic.

Ladies and gentlemen. When you know it could be serious, don’t ever, ever, EVER, get online and ‘just look it up…’

All I could find was really bad stuff. The ‘M’ word was somehow associated with everything.

Miscarriage. Let’s talk for a second about how rich I would be if I could be a professional panicker.

So, I called my mother, who is a nurse of like, 18+ years, to reassure me that I was just panicking, that spotting can be something that happens pretty often, and that I shouldn’t be worried because the internet just overplays it.

She, through the whole conversation, made the attempt to calm my nerves, but agreed with me that I should go be with her regardless of how big or little the situation was. Then she made the comment that caused me to drive 500 miles an hour to the hospital.

“Now I am going to be worried all day, let me know what’s going on…”

My boss walked in as I was walking out.

“I’m going to the hospital; Marie is on her way to the ER with some light bleeding”

“Oh, ok, yeah go…”

I tried to keep it under 85 the entire way there. I was scared shitless by this point. It had been like 15 minutes since I had talked to Marie and her calm nature in the conversation was lost and I was terrified for the worst.

I got to the hospital and realized that parking can in fact cause fits of rage. Or, finding a lack of parking.

Got to the fifth floor of the parking garage, finally found a spot. Tried not to run the entire way to the ER.

Now. Let’s go over some facts that I found on this whole thing for you, the reader, to hopefully learn and benefit from, because I had to dig a little to find this stuff. Also, keep in mind that I am not a doctor, nurse or any other kind of medical anything. I like medical stuff, my mother is a nurse and I like the show Scrubs, but that’s about as far as it goes. Take this as what I think I have learned and not ANY kind of actual medical advice, now let’s continue.

Marie is A Negative and RH Negative. A- being her blood type. RH- meaning that she does not have a certain something in her blood. It’s not something you have to have or shouldn’t have, some people have it, some don’t. But I am RH+. This means that the baby will have the RH ‘whatever’ in its blood. Because the baby will have that in its blood and she doesn’t have it, her body will create antibodies against the RH thing and attack the baby.

The way to prevent this is a RhoGAM shot. It keeps her body from being able to create specifically those antibodies that would attack the baby, or fetus, for the medically correct.

Now, back to the story of how I learned that my heart can in fact stop for an extended period of time.

So, I got to the ER lobby and she was already in a room. The lady at the counter said “go right in” so I walked around the corner through the double doors and was stopped and told to go back in the lobby.

“Is she ok, is the baby ok, have they checked to make sure everything is ok?”

“Sir, just go back in the lobb-“

“The lady at the desk already said I could come in, she’s in that room right there”

“Sir, just go back to the lobby and I will come get you.”

I took a deep breath, and went back in the lobby.

After like 10 minutes of waiting and not knowing, it was time for round two. I went back in and asked a nurse at the counter if I could go in yet.

“Why couldn’t you? Yeah, go in, she wants you in there, right???”

So, in I went.

She was fine, asking about animal tails, as this is what she had been thinking about for the last half hour she was sitting there on her own waiting for the ultrasound and the blood work to come back.

So they still didn’t know what the final word was on if the baby was ok and all was well, they sent me back out of the room for the ultrasound, it wasn’t a belly one, they came at it from…. A different angle(the down under…). Shortly after I got a text from Marie.

“14 weeks and a strong heartbeat”

After almost having an emotional breakdown of relief, I composed myself and they came shortly after to let me back in the waiting room.

Everything was ok!

As soon as I got back in the room I gave her belly a tiny poke and my words were something along the lines of “not funny, bud, is this how it’s gonna be your whole life?”

Marie thought I was trying to be funny, but I think I was actually scolding my unborn child. He doesn’t even have ears yet.

She got the shot, they deemed everything ok, and we were on our way.

“Wings for lunch?”

Clearly Marie handled this better than I did. Probably because she didn’t look things up on the internet.

 

Since this event a couple of days ago now, I have heard the following statement at LEAST 7 times:

“Welcome to being a parent, it’s just the beginning.”

Can I at least get him/her out here before we start making runs to the hospital where I have to worry about life and death. For the love of jeez.

So, the scares and worries have begun. I guess my lesson out of all of this is there ain’t shit you can do as the parent in some situations, so don’t panic more than you have to. If there was more to learn here, I didn’t. I guess I’ll start at focusing on NOT focusing on the worst. I’m terrible about emotionally readying myself for the worst; makes anything else not as bad. From what I’m being told, there’s plenty more of the exact same terror to come. EESHH!

 

We have our first ultrasound on Tuesday. If we get lucky enough, we might be able to tell the gender/confirm it’s a boy. I’ll let ya’ll know how it went! Check in later….

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Sweet Emotions, Like an Onion in My Pocket . . .

So.

   Gonna be a DAD. It keeps hitting me at random times. And when it hits me I am forced to swallow the pit I get in my throat and try not to get all teary. I’m a man. The only time I cry is when I’m dicing jalapenos and onions with karate chops for a delicious dip. (That’s not even true, I have an AMAZING chopper/cutter/dicer thingie-ma-doo that I LOVE. Seriously guys, this thing rocks, but anyways, back to the point)

   I have never had an experience where just the thought of it gets my eyes all watery. I am so overwhelmed with love and excitement for this kid already. But it can come at the, not best, of times.

   I am a wedding photographer. Well, I am an anything people photographer, but I was shooting a wedding this weekend and it hit me again, while shooting the parent/children dances. The mother/daughter, mother/son and in particular, the father/daughter. I watched as both of them in every dance are overcome with emotion and love for the other.  It didn’t help that they had songs like “Butterfly Kisses” playing and all I could think about was holding my kid for the first time. My eyes were getting all watery, my chin was wobbling like an elephant on a tight rope. It was a sudden madhouse of emotion in my head. The people watching hopefully didn’t notice  ME…. “I think the photographer is a little unstable. He started crying during the dances . . . . . a little odd, that one. . . .”

   It made me realize that while I would love my child regardless of its gender, ( well, regardless of anything but for the sake of my next statement we’ll go with the simple statement of regardless of gender)  I am incapable of wrapping my head around how much I would love and in a sense fear for having a little girl, and I think it’s one of the reasons I want a boy.

   With a boy, you want them to get out there and experience the world. Fall off the bike, eat the dirt, ask the girl out, “learn to accept rejection, boy, that’s called the harsh reality of life and unless you want to be a pansy your whole life, you better learn to deal with it.”

   Toughen them up for the world. It’s rough out there and you have to get ready for it.

   But, with a little girl, it seems to be such an opposite concept. I’ll want to run next to the bike to keep her safe, put a blanket over the dirt for all her dolls and keeping her clothes clean and dating isn’t an option until she’s 20 and even then they aren’t leaving the house until I’ve gotten the background check on that boy back from the FBI. (It’s ok, they can leave now, I’ll just wear a dark outfit and sit in the back of the theater with a flashlight ready for that hand to creep up in a stretching position. “HANDS OFF, BUD. . . .”)

   I think one of the reasons, maybe subconsciously, that us guys want a little boy is that, at least the way I see it, the fear of that extra emotional need to shield a little girl from the harshness and hurt that is, or can be, life.  That’s a terrifying responsibility that you HAVE to fail at if you want your kid to grow up and function in the world. The only way to call it a success is how you allow it to happen; if you manage to make it to certain ages before certain realities occur.

   Either way, boy or girl though, I can’t help but get a little choked up every time I think about it. I am going to be a Dad. I have looked forward to having kids since I was like 14. It’s an exciting thought. Yeah, there’s the first year where it’s just changing diapers and being up for, well, what I hear is pretty much the entire year. But then you get a little buddy to do stuff with. Someone who thinks you are one of the two coolest people in the whole world.

   See, even now, getting all emotional over it.

   Dammit. I need to carry an onion and cream cheese in my pocket at all times.

Co-worker: “What’s wrong with you?”

Me: “Oh, nothing, these onions get me every time”

Co-worker: “You keep onions in your pocket?”

Me: “Never know when you’ll need to make a good party dip…”

Co-worker (walking away): “So weird. . . . I hope he doesn’t take ME hostage when he loses his mind…”

   Jokes aside. I am still discovering my excitement. I think I am excited, and then I realize, I hadn’t even realized, and that keeps happening over and over.

   But when things around me happen that involve my thinking about it being a girl, I get extra choked up. I have come to the realization that I do want a little girl, even more than I want a boy, BUT . . . I don’t know that I am ready for that extra feeling of responsibility. Boys are hardy. They are more like a test run for parenting a little girl because as a man I can relate more to him, he’ll be his own person I’m sure; but a boy is more like me, and a boy can handle a scratched knee and learn to outwit the kids when they make fun of him at school. A little girl, I’m going to be on the doorstep of those kids’ houses demanding apologies because no one is going to treat my little girl like that.

   Every kid gets put on a pedestal by their parents, boy or girl. But, the boys are more apt to fall off, take the pedestal apart and figure it out. A girl will sit there and proudly be.

   I’m not ready to have a daddy’s girl. Because I am too emotional I think. I’m never going to be able to say no to my little girl, and she’s going to get spoiled rotten and I’ll happily let her wrap me around her finger.  

   They say (you know, they, the all-knowing people we learn from on the internet) that when looking for a boyfriend or girlfriend, life-long kinda parter, we subconsciously look for someone like our opposite gender parent. I will want to spoil my little girl because that’s what her future husband should be compared to when she thinks of how she was treated as a kid and wants to be treated her whole life.

 

   If, by now in the post, you are still here, thanks for listening. This is a rambling post for sure, more meant to be a documenting the process and capturing my feelings in the now, kinda thing. It’s part of this blog’s purpose.

   So, as I continue to realize the concept that I guess is “A Father’s love . . . “ I’m sure I’ll have a few more posts just letting the world, mainly my family and friends, as well as those looking for a new Dad-to-be’s views and opinions, into my brain. I’ll make a “ramblings” category so you’ll know what you’re getting into before you even start the blog ;) Stay tuned!

 

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Shopping Smartly, Because “I Ain’t Rich” . . . .

   OK, so the most frustrating thing I have encountered to date, aside from waiting on the visual results  of this pregnancy . . . . is not yet knowing the gender of this kid! (I mean, confirming that it’s a boy…)

   The first thing we have wanted to do is run out and buy stuff. I’m excited, I want to get stuff and start preparing now. I want my kid to have a thousand different outfits so he looks differently cute every day of the year, and a badass stroller that we can go anywhere in, and a cool spinny sit-in toy station… I want to discover a way to make tons of money so I don’t have to budget and only buy so much at a time. . . . . . Any of you that might be filthy rich reading this, send me a DNA sample. . . . I know we are related somehow, you know Uncle Frank, right????

   Anyways. We have been taking to the yard sales for things like onesies and the newborn type clothes. I have had mixed responses when telling people that we are buying used baby clothes. Some are less than excited to hear such a thing and I am forced to have a battle of wits with them, which I always end up winning. . . .

Me: “Yeah, we are having a kid, I am super excited. Don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet, so we have started getting ‘neutral’ kinda stuff at like yard sales, just basic preparations, you know? Onesies and stuff like that.”

Random Irritating-Opinioned Person (RIOP): “YARD SALES!? Like, USED stuff?? For a BABY?!”

Me: “Well, yeah. Once you wash it, what’s it matter. The kid is just going to puke all over it anyways and it’s only going to fit for a couple months…”

RIOP: “It’s not CLEAN and NEW.” (I’d like to point out the all caps are that irritating stress people put on words, like you are an idiot and need EXTRA EMPHASIS on CERTAIN WORDS which are spoken a LITTLE BIT SLOWER so that their point is REALLY MADE. . . . .)

Me: “Well, they make detergents that kill bacteria nowadays, it’s not like the 1800’s where you washed clothes in a creek bed. And NEW just means expensive in terms of clothing. We don’t really do useless expensive…”

RIOP: “I guess if you want your kid wearing secondhand clothes with puke stains all over them…”

Me: “Oh, I know right. The baby fashion police are totally going to arrest us. And also, a newborn’s opinion SHOULD be considered in what they WANT to wear. You know how picky kids are today. It’s like, BAM!, out of the womb for twenty seconds and already complaining about not having Armani suits or Gucci dresses. And clearly I am going to buy shitty raggedy clothing, the more holes and puke stains the better I say. There’s not decent stuff out there at all for reasonable prices unless it still has the chunks on the front and poop stains on the back. . . ”

RIOP: ” . . . . .  . (nasty look and lip/eyebrow  raise combo) kinda rude…”

Me: “As is your opinion of my buying habits. Have a great day!”

   Most everyone else I talk to though gets it. Find good-looking clothes that the seller’s kids only wore for like 2 months until they outgrew it for hardly the price of a single onesie new. Have you looked at new onesies? 8 bucks new on the cheap side. I found 17 pieces of clothing, to INCLUDE an H&M coat/suit/winter hiking Mt. Everest thing for $12. (hold for applause at my haggling abilities . . . . . . . . )

   No we don’t know the gender, but yes we bought a Batman shirt. Don’t even think about telling Marie that you have to be a boy to like Batman. She made the call that if we have a girl, she is still wearing that shirt. (And she’ll like fishing, and working on cars, and hunting. . . . . . )

   I bet that winter jacket suit alone would cost like $30 bucks. Yeah, ok, a few of them lean towards “boy colors” but they are neutral enough.

   And also, like I said before, the kid is just going to puke ALL OVER THEM ANYWAYS!!! It’s time to accept that we can’t have anything nice for at least six years now. (I know, all the ‘already parents’ probably laugh right there, “heh, SIX, boy is he in for a surprise”) Nothing is safe unless it’s kept in a man-room behind a triple locked door. As will be ALL my photography gear. 

    I say all that to point out this. We are looking at a ‘well-rated for safety’ car seat and stroller combo that costs more than $200. That’s a LOT of money. But that’s where it counts. Drop the dough on things that have to do with the safety and well-being of your kid. Until my child is probably four or five, the bulk of their clothes are going to be hand-me-down or bought-used clothes. Because kids are expensive, and I don’t even know yet, but at least I am aware. Eight bucks is a box of cheapo diapers, and I bet you the cheapo diapers suck, which means $13 for a box of good diapers. Look at what I got for that same amount in USED clothes. (Go ahead, scroll back up a bit. . . . . . that’s like $100+ in “new” clothes. . . . . . and they are all in good clean shape. No stains or anything. No one will even know unless they ask, or unless I brag about my great deal hunting skills. . . . ok, so, everyone will end up knowing, but I really don’t care.) Imagine how many diapers I’ll be able to buy with all the money I save from not buying that stuff new.

   But, on the flip side of that, You bet I won’t be buying a used car seat. Who knows what kind of stresses were put on that thing. I don’t know how safe that used seat is after a year or more of use. Not worth the risk. That’s my kid’s life. You can’t wash use out of stressed plastics and metal. I’d rather be dropping good money into the safety of my kid than his or her fashion sense. They have me as a Dad. Fashion sense? psshh. Gone already.

   Another thing that we have been looking at buying as a money saver is the Baby Bullet. I don’t know about you, but, spending two bucks on a glass jar with a half of a carrot in it doesn’t make much sense to me. I’ll keep a full opinion on the thing saved for when we actually get it, but, here’s the quick lowdown I have on the Baby Bullet idea:

   It comes with a reasonable set of plastic jars, something like ten of them. That’s plenty enough to only have to puree stuff up like once every couple of days. You know exactly what your kid is eating, it’s not made in some factory who knows where where who knows just WHAT has gone into it. . .  and hasn’t sat for who really knows how long on the shelf.
I am not knocking on baby food companies here. All I am saying is just as YOU should be aware of what you are eating, you should care even more what your KID is eating. After all they are probably sucking up way more of the nutrients and contents of that food than we are, as they are growing at a crazy fast rate and need every scrap of nutrient they can get. This I do know. I live with a 12-year-old girl, she is like I was at that age, an endless pit that consumes everything and doesn’t stop growing.

   Also, with this thing, think of all that glass that gets thrown out with the jars of baby food. The jars that come with it are reusable, so you are doing an environmental favor too. I know, I know, who cares, blah, blah, you are hoping there isn’t a rapidly approaching segment on global warming. All I am saying is I hate driving by the local landfill and having it stink the place up. If we can find a way to not contribute to the trash piles, be giving our kids fresher, better food and feel like a mad scientist while grinding carrots and broccoli up with Dr. Horrible’s theme song playing in the background, why not?

   Bottom line in this side track? Baby Bullet. We are getting one.

   So to wrap up a rapidly approaching 1,300 words post. Buy smart. Don’t waste money on clothes the kid is going to outgrow in like 3 months, (1,300 words, hit) save money where you can and drop it where it matters, like a stroller that will stick with you for 3-5 years and a car seat that will save your child’s life in the terrible event that you are in an accident, or a crib designed around your child’s safety….. At this moment in time, and for the rest of it, your life becomes forever second to the life you have created. Spend the money you have now wisely to ensure your kid’s safety and future. Besides, it’s fun to argue with RIOP’s about second-hand stuff and how gross of a person you are and already how terrible of a parent you must be for shopping at a thrift store :) More of my opinion to come, stay tuned!

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Hurry up and Get Fat Already. . . .

So, about three months into this pregnancy. I am the kind of person that likes to watch the bag grow as the popcorn pops in the microwave, likes to fish in a well fish-populated lake, I like digital photography because the photo pops up right on the back of the camera as soon as you take it . . . . . . We are about three months into this thing and she still looks just as good as she did before it all started.

No “baby bump” yet, no gaining visible weight, nothing. The best I’ve got is that her stomach is all firmed up, but I’m hoping that she isn’t misleading me with constant constipation just so that I have some sort of progress . . . . . (and that’s why she’s not allowed to read the blog. . . .)

So, my impatient ways have led me to wanting to SEE my baby. Especially as a photographer, I wanna get our first set of the baby bump photos. Also an exciting next step.

But for now, the best I get is hauling ass through Toys ‘R’ Us with jogging strollers trying to decide which one corners the best and handles well. Also, I think I have disassembled most all of their selection trying to determine just which one will fold compactly enough to fit into both the Patriot and the Fiesta. Also, guys, if you haven’t gone stroller/car seat shopping yet, I highly advise this. It’s like car shopping condensed:

 

Plus, at Toys ‘R’ Us, though they are insanely overpriced by internet comparison, they have these two aisles with all these things on either side. I was grabbing them and pushing them all over the store, breaking them all down and lining them up to see which one deflated the best. A lady with like four kids came around the corner while I was struggling to get one folded down and I swear she was standing there laughing inside. As soon as I got it figured out she walked off. . . . . Curse you and your four kid knowledge lady.

Anyways, I need to see results. I had always thought it was a constantly evolving process. Pregnant, immediately start showing, get huge, have kid. It feels like it’s been MONTHS already. Like 10 months. We are just coming into month three. I hate waiting. At least give me some sort of visual progress. 

So, to all the other guys out there hovering around this period of the beginning stages of pregnancy, be patient, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see when she finally starts getting fat ;) To all the guys who have tiny little girlfriends and wives that are showing on month nothing, curse you and your lucky visual progress.

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