Tug On This
Thursday, December 23, 2004
10 Days Early
Well, I can honestly say that when a baby wants to come, that baby is going to come.
I know because my 2nd son, Nicholas James McTighe, entered our world and our lives 10 days early (hence the title above) at 12:42 a.m. on Tuesday, December 21.
I'm not kidding, it was a whirlwind. It breaks down like this:
MONDAY 12/20
8:17 p.m
My wife gets home from water aerobics (that's right, water aerobics at 9+ months prego) and tells me that "Something might be going on down there."
"Pah," I say.
8:30 p.m.
She decides to call the doctor. She says she's feeling some "pressure."
"Double-pah," but this time, I think it.
8:40 p.m.
She tells me that she's having contractions and that she's going to pack her things.
"Hmmm," I ponder. "This might be the real deal. But certainly not, I mean we're 10 days early."
9:30 p.m.
After a series of contractions that are separated by the thin veneer of just 5 minutes, she decides to call her girlfriend to ask her to come over and watch our other boy while we go deliver the baby.
Finally realizing she's serious, I jump on board.
9:45 p.m.
We head to the hospital.
10:15 p.m.
In the hospital her doctor utters this simplistic phrase: "Yep, the baby's coming." Hey, I didn't need a medical degree to sort that one out. "Thanks Doc, here's a check for eleventy-billion dollars!"
10:15 - 12:00 a.m.
Things progress just as they should. At the stroke of midnight, Sarah starts pushing.
12:42 a.m.
Nick is born.
A miracle wrapped in a miracle wrapped in a miracle, people. Seriously.
Walt Whitman wrote that "a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels."
Man, he should've seen a baby.
Happy holidays. ¶ 2:34 PM 1 comments
I know because my 2nd son, Nicholas James McTighe, entered our world and our lives 10 days early (hence the title above) at 12:42 a.m. on Tuesday, December 21.
I'm not kidding, it was a whirlwind. It breaks down like this:
MONDAY 12/20
8:17 p.m
My wife gets home from water aerobics (that's right, water aerobics at 9+ months prego) and tells me that "Something might be going on down there."
"Pah," I say.
8:30 p.m.
She decides to call the doctor. She says she's feeling some "pressure."
"Double-pah," but this time, I think it.
8:40 p.m.
She tells me that she's having contractions and that she's going to pack her things.
"Hmmm," I ponder. "This might be the real deal. But certainly not, I mean we're 10 days early."
9:30 p.m.
After a series of contractions that are separated by the thin veneer of just 5 minutes, she decides to call her girlfriend to ask her to come over and watch our other boy while we go deliver the baby.
Finally realizing she's serious, I jump on board.
9:45 p.m.
We head to the hospital.
10:15 p.m.
In the hospital her doctor utters this simplistic phrase: "Yep, the baby's coming." Hey, I didn't need a medical degree to sort that one out. "Thanks Doc, here's a check for eleventy-billion dollars!"
10:15 - 12:00 a.m.
Things progress just as they should. At the stroke of midnight, Sarah starts pushing.
12:42 a.m.
Nick is born.
A miracle wrapped in a miracle wrapped in a miracle, people. Seriously.
Walt Whitman wrote that "a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels."
Man, he should've seen a baby.
Happy holidays. ¶ 2:34 PM 1 comments
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Flu? Oh pooh.
Every year I forego the flu shot that my wife and my son always get. For him sure, I mean he's 3. And her, well, let's just say she's a rule follower. They say get a flu shot, she gets a flu shot. Me, never had one, never will. At least that's what I thought until 1:41 AM on Monday morning.
That was when I awoke with the knowledge that if the pain in my entire body didn't stop soon, I would rather die. Then I was on the can, off the can etc. ad nauseum. You're picking up what I'm putting down.
Seriously, I had a 24-hour bug that ripped through my soul leaving behind nothing more than tattered remnants of days gone by. Days when I didn't have the flu.
And then, at 2:23 this morning, just like Keyser Soze –
POOF! the flu was gone.
The moral of this story: Get your flu shots kiddies.
Moral #2: When that SuperFlu comes (like in Stephen King's "The Stand") we got trouble, baby. Trouble. ¶ 12:40 PM 0 comments
That was when I awoke with the knowledge that if the pain in my entire body didn't stop soon, I would rather die. Then I was on the can, off the can etc. ad nauseum. You're picking up what I'm putting down.
Seriously, I had a 24-hour bug that ripped through my soul leaving behind nothing more than tattered remnants of days gone by. Days when I didn't have the flu.
And then, at 2:23 this morning, just like Keyser Soze –
POOF! the flu was gone.
The moral of this story: Get your flu shots kiddies.
Moral #2: When that SuperFlu comes (like in Stephen King's "The Stand") we got trouble, baby. Trouble. ¶ 12:40 PM 0 comments
Friday, December 03, 2004
Just Learning
I'm new to this Blog thing. It seems pretty self-indulgent if you ask me.
But I noticed you didn't ask me.
Look to this space for my musings on whatever the hell I happen to be musing about. ¶ 11:21 PM 0 comments
But I noticed you didn't ask me.
Look to this space for my musings on whatever the hell I happen to be musing about. ¶ 11:21 PM 0 comments
La La Land
Los Angeles is strange. I saw two semi-famous people out here at the Loews Santa Monica today. First, I saw that long-haired Tony guy from the Gazelle Infomercial. Then I saw the girl that plays Nessa on NBC's "Las Vegas." Not a bad show, you should check it out.
The thing is that she was tiny, tiny skinny and he was fatter than you'd expect a guy who shills exercise equipment to be.
Hmmm.
Plus, this Pacific Time Zone is for the birds. La La land indeed. ¶ 11:13 PM 1 comments
The thing is that she was tiny, tiny skinny and he was fatter than you'd expect a guy who shills exercise equipment to be.
Hmmm.
Plus, this Pacific Time Zone is for the birds. La La land indeed. ¶ 11:13 PM 1 comments
