denyingphoenix (logo)

If You Thought I Wrote About The Dog In A Disproportionate Amount…

Originally posted on December 10, 2007

Seven months from now, my life will change. Forever.

So remember that one time, way back in April when I posed the question to myself, “Who wakes up one day and says, ‘Yup, I’m ready to irrevocably alter the course of my life today by having a child!’”? Remember that? Well, there were no gnomes or fairies or magical moments of awakening in the middle of the night to signal that we were ready. It was simply a conscious decision, a leap of faith the size of which I’ve never known before. I realized I was ready when I heard an enormous crash that made the entire house shake down to it’s foundation.

One Friday afternoon in October during History Channel & Beer Time™, while I was mouth agape at learning how much of a Grade-A badass Al Capone was, I was yanked back to reality by this deafening thud and went to investigate. What I found was The Wife™ holding a pregnancy test and His Dogness™ grinning ear-to-ear and wearing a t-shirt that said, “I’m the big brother.” Apparently the sound of the dog falling face-first down a flight of stairs was the sound of my life changing forever, the sound of my life irrevocably shifting paths. Snapped out of distraction into reality. It was the sound of me instantaneously being ready to be a father.

I grabbed another beer. And blinked a few times.

I’m stoked. I’m scared sh*tless. I’m ecstatic and unsure. I pass hours at night worrying instead of sleeping, something that I’ll likely regret deeply seven months from now when I’m dying for some shut-eye. And beyond all that, I’m ready, because I have to be. As it turns out, decisions that large aren’t really a function of the shift from theoretical to practical, the space of time that exists between pondering and acting. Waiting for the stars to align is merely an exercise in perfectionistic futility. There will always be a gap between the two, and bridging them apparently involves just closing your eyes and jumping.

So we’ve jumped. And the next seven months will be preparing myself for the landing, mentally practicing for how to get up after the impact. I’m ready. And I’m elated.



Comments

Hey Brian, congratulations! I had to listen in on my 16th 5 hour long woman phone conversation this weekend and heard you're pregnant!

All I can say is: survival of the species. It's instinctual, feels right, and should work itself out in the end because that's the way it's supposed to be! And if you ever get nervous, just think how cave people managed somehow with no Similac, swaddles, or how-to books, and you'll both get on just fine.

What I want to know is what service mark will the baby get?


© 2008 Baby Faust?
Baby Faust™?
Reg U.S. Pat & TM Baby Faust?
Baby Faust®?
Baby Faust℠?

Seriously, i think you need to figure this out before it's too late.

by the way, i really like the google ads that come up with your post:

Exorcist Bed
Sleeping Booty
Sleep Newborns
Baby Pillow

Exorcist bed? haa haa.

Anyway, congrats and welcome to a new life of wonderfulness.

said Eric Bort

Well that is huge news for the holiday season. Congratulations to you both!

said christen

Comments are currently closed.

Did You Know?

Green Thumb

I'm second-generation Irish, I think. My grandfather on my mother's side was from Breaghwy in Co. Mayo. I'm now working on getting my Irish citizenship, to prove that my fire hydrant-shaped body is genetic. I swear.

Use Firefox. See columns.