Bad Santa

I was just sent this picture from a friend. He warned me that Santa wasn't behaving himself in the picture, but in no way was I prepared for this--nor was I prepared to soil myself. My kids are never sitting on Santa's lap.

I Must Know

Through my first two days of school, there was one in every class: Dude. This is the kid who is wearing faded jeans with a pink belt, sparklingly white shoes (untied), a bright pink shirt with some ridiculous phrase like "Girls Rule" or "I need a date really bad--that's why I'm wearing this ridiculous shirt," a pink wristband (yes, the same thing that sweaty people who play sports wipe the sweat off their faces with), and bleached hair so spiky that at one time I actually thought that his head was on fire. And now, females, I have to know: is this attractive?

I don't mean to sound like some old curmudgeon (see codger, fogy), because I do remember a time where everything I did was to get the attention of members of the opposite sex. However, I did desire good attention, which is why I asked the above question. This can't possibly be getting Dude dates with quality girls. I see this as maybe the male counterpart of the Dallas Roberts "student" (that I hear so much about on other blogs) with hair that's half black and half blond, low-rider jeans that show her buttcrack, and a surgically-implanted cell phone with pink-sequins on her ear. How do these people get dates?

Philosophies on how to get people to look at them in class (because once a girl looks at him it is, so obviously, in the bag) may actually differ. One Dude sits in the back corner and doesn't say anything. I'm actually convinced that this Dude is the one that has a healthier self-esteem, and wouldn't seriously consider jumping from his Helaman Halls window if the girl in front of him doesn't turn around and compliment him on his hair. The other Dude, however, I worry about. He raises his hand more than anyone else and makes comments that only he (and perhaps Dallas Roberts Chick) could possibly think are brilliant. These comments might include:

"How 'required' are these books? Like, I mean, will I be tested and stuff on them?"

"When you said that you're pretty 'liberal' with grading, did you mean, like, politically?"

"If anyone wants to make a study group to go over this syllabus, I'll give you my phone number."

Disclaimer: I don't mean to judge, although I'm doing it. If you are Dude, or if you are attracted to Dude, I don't mean to offend. I only mean to know what the heck you're thinking.

Code Names

It was mentioned in one of Daltongirl's posts that Pretty Pregger needs a new code name, as the name Pregger is no longer appropriate (Pretty, however, still fits). My baby daughter also needs one. So, because of my complete lack of creativity, I am taking suggestions on code names for both. Whether or not I use any of your suggestions may be another story, but it will be fun to hear them nonetheless! So fire away--and if I use your suggestion, you may get a prize! But probably not.

Back[ing] [In]to School

Despite my best efforts to fake sick, my wife is making me go to school today. Boo. However, as she keeps telling me, the end is in sight: I have three semesters left. So if I have to work again full time next summer, then I'll be all through at the end of Fall Semester 2006. If I school straight through Summer 2006, we'll finally be out of Utah by this time next year (in theory)! So I guess I can study with that in mind--though it's making me trunky.

One good thing that will come out of schooling again is that I will have more to blog about. I always have stupid things to say while I'm actually reading... and... learning... and... stuff.

Anyway, I'm taking three Communications classes and one Political Science class. So expect a lot of rants this term about the history of American politics and how my fellow Communications majors and our instructors can't communicate.

So that's your Fall Semester 2005 Preview! Game on! Or off, to make time for school. Great.

More Pictures!

This morning I fulfill my promise of pictures. Here she is!



I swear she did that herself.



West siiiiiide!

Dang Honor

I went and bought my books for fall term yesterday, and was assaulted at the top of the stairs by a man making sure that I had a hot pink flyer. The flyer turned out to be the University's new return policy (I guess I don't know if it's new, it just seems like it couldn't have been around for long). This is an excerpt from the University Bookstore return policy.

"NO REFUNDS will be given at any time on textbooks being returned because they have been or will be replaced by books from other sources."

1) This may be the only business in the world that will not allow you to return a product because you found a better price. Many businesses, realizing that some money is better than no money, even match the price that you find at another source. Try that, Bookstore.

2) This may be the only business in the world that feels that it is necessary to ask, specifically, "are you returning this because you found someone else that is selling this book without requiring your left leg and firstborn child?"

3) This may be the only business in the world that can ask this question and actually feel that it will get an honest answer! The use of the Honor Code to make more money has to be against some other Honor Code, somewhere.

Then again, maybe I'm just bitter because two of my books, written and printed by the instructors themselves, were over $70--used!

Someone Listens!

I was recently informed that my Song of the Day option in the right sidebar does not go completley un-listened-to. How exciting! That inspired me to do another! Hopefully I'll have a more exciting post tomorrow.

Today's Song of the Day is by Seven Mary Three, a grunge band from Orlando that gained fame during the Nirvana/Pearl Jam/Soundgarden era. They had a few big hits, but none bigger than "Cumbersome." Today, I will NOT put "Cumbersome" here. I don't like that whole Seattle-based grunge movement. Seven Mary Three, however, is an extremely talented band, as their second CD, Rock Crown, showed. On this CD, they showed a lot of versatility, producing songs ranging from crappy grunge rock to slower, fuller ballads, to stripped down jazzy tunes with latin beats. Their music before or after this CD was never as good, but still sometimes showed flashes of genius.

My favorite song of theirs is called "Lucky," a beautiful mix of heartfelt lyrics, emotional vocals, and quality chord progressions. Enjoy!

J

Just to let everyone know from me directly, the new munchkin in our home is named J. She's absolutely beautiful, and a joy to be around. She doesn't fuss much at all, and Mama is doing a bang-up job with those middle-of-the-night feedings. Anyway, thanks again to everyone for the support! I will hopefully post more pictures by tomorrow, as we've got some pretty good ones. I'm still working on putting some of my thoughts about the whole experience on paper, so wait for that.

As Cicada put it this morning, "You've increased the size of your family by 50%!" Astute observation, my friend.

Whatserface Has Arrived!

After a long 38 hours in the delivery room (but not much of that was active labor--what a blessing), Baby arrived at 9:51 MDT on 8-17-05; 7 lbs. 4 oz., 19", and as healthy as can be. I cannot thank you all enough for your prayers over the last few days--they were answered. Over the next few days, I will gather my thoughts and eventually post something that expresses myself better than I can right now. As for now, let me tide you over with a few post-delivery thoughts and pictures.

1) Note to future daddies: Be well fed. Don't tell your wife you're eating, but DO NOT attempt to view your wife in the state she will be in without being physically prepared. Trust me.

2) Note to all future parents: Involve the Lord as much as you possibly can throughout the entire process.

3) Note to self: The placenta was actually kind of cool looking--looked like something that I've killed a hundred times on Nintendo games.

4) Note to all: My wife is my hero.

Again, thank you for all of your prayers, concern, and love. Mother and baby are healthy and beautiful, hungry and happy.

By the way, the name will be decided on soon. It will neither be Mia nor Isaac (rest easy, Cicada); right now we are deciding between J and Aleah, leaning toward J. I will let you know when I can. Bless you all.

Play ball!

We're going to the hospital at this very moment for my wife to be induced! Pray for her and the baby! I promise to include pictures (not of the delivery, Nemesis) once there's Baby.

If you ever have a daughter that gets pre-maritally pregnant (knock on wood)...

While I was in the waiting room at Pregger's doctor today, an obviously young pregnant woman came to the desk with her mom. Her mom went to the other side of the desk to say "hi" to one of the nurses. Here's how the conversation went:

Mother: I just wanted to say "hi." You were here with me a long time ago when I was getting ready to deliver my baby.

Nurse: "Oh, how nice! Hi!"

Mother: "Now I'm here with my baby" [pointing at her pregnant daughter].

Nurse: "Wow, congratulations!"

Mother: "Yeah, well, sort of. She's only sixteen."

Nurse: [awkwardly] "Oh...."

Can I just make a request of whoever is reading this? If you ever have a daughter that gets knocked up, don't tell people! I wanted to smack this lady! Why in the name of bouncing babies would this woman need to include that little detail about her daughter? Her poor daughter is undoubtedly embarrassed enough about being sixteen and pregnant in Provo without her mother having to keep telling new people.

Pretty Pregger, always trying to save me from my judgmental self, said "at least she's here." Good point, PP.

Baby Update

Just got back from our very last pre-baby doctor's appointment. Pretty Pregger was a little further along in all of the vital categories, but not too much. If nothing happens before Monday night, we'll go to the hospital and they will put some sort of funky gel on her that gets her ready and stuff (I'm trying hard to avoid all of the words that nobody wants to hear), and then we'll come back early Tuesday morning to induce. So at the very latest we'll for sure have a baby Tuesday! Either way, Kid's comin' quick! Yahoo! And no crying!

'Til Someone Sexier Comes Along

I was following a blog trail (clicking on a blog-friend's link to another blog-friend, to another blog-friend, to another...) to take a break from all of this intense editing work I have on my plate, when I came across quite an... I don't know... interesting(?) story (in a blog whose author I have no way of knowing anything about: http://www.crashtext.blogspot.com/).

Fox News--'Til Death do Us Part

It appears as though people are using the express lanes to get to shrinks after they get divorced because they're so torn up by the fact that their marriage has ended after saying "'til death do us part" in a church. A "wedding expert" (By the way, what makes her a wedding expert? Let us hope it's not an excessive number of weddings she's been a bride at.) said that getting a divorce after pronouncing those words "can give you a stigma of personal failure."

So what's the expert's solution? She suggests using the phrase "for as long as our marriage serves the greatest good," or "for as long as our love shall last."

Brilliant! It makes so much sense! Rather than avoiding the "stigma of personal failure" by doing something healthy like, say, work at making your love last (Revolutionary! Heretic!), let's just remove the phrase that could cause you pain in the future because, inevitably, you will get divorced. That's just good, solid planning.

Here's a sample ceremony, in the improved, zero-responsibility age:

Priest: "Do you, [insert immature and insecure individual's name here], take [insert individual fooled into marrying immature and insecure individual's name here] to be your lawfully wedded roommate, for no worse than better, in no sicker than healthy, for no poorer than rich, for as long as you both still don't notice each other's faults?

Immature and Insecure Individual: "I guess."

Fool: "Sure."

Priest: "I now pronounce you to be in close proximity to each other, free to have sex without feeling guilty anymore."

I figure marriage is just like the universe: it's all about me, right?

A Shutout = 0

Some of you may know (but probably not) that I have recently developed a love for indoor soccer--specifically, goalkeeping. For those of you who aren't familiar with indoor soccer, I have included a picture above of a field (although the field in this picture is a smaller field than the one we play on). Notice the small size, the walls, etc. It's a very different game than outdoor soccer (which I've played all of my life)--a lot faster paced. Now, I have always been the guy up front scoring the goals, but in order to play on this indoor team I was forced to play goalie for the first time in my life. I was extremely worried about this and not really looking forward to it, but I have actually developed a real love for goalkeeping over the past few months.

Anyway, to make a long story short (ever notice how someone only says that once it's too late), last night we finally won 3-0. Yes, you saw the magic number: zero!!! This was my first shutout, and was one of the sports highlights of my life. My team was amazing, and many of the saves I had were thanks to my face, which was in the right place at the right time (and we got lucky--four of their shots should have gone in, but were just lucky breaks for us).

Sorry, I know you don't care, but it was a wonderful experience for me to get a shutout.

My face still hurts.

Baby Voodoo

Pretty Pregger has decided to go to a reflexology clinic today (thank goodness Mother-in Law is here to pay for it!) to try to induce labor. Reflexology is, apparently, a practice based on pressure points in the hands and the feet. These pressure points create or release tension in other parts of the body. Click on the picture to the left to see a chart detailing which parts of the feet do what--it looks like there's a button on your foot that makes you poop your pants!

Father-in Law says that this is one step above Voodoo. I agree. In fact, any of you know any good Voodoo doctors?

Song/Story of the Day

Judging by the overwhelming response to my "Song of the Day" feature (a total of zero related comments), you, readers, want another! Hopefully this is one you've all heard, but we could all listen to it a few hundred more times. The new link to Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" is in the sidebar.

"Wonderful Tonight" is perhaps the greatest song ever written. However, it has some personal significance to me as well--other than its achievement of true fame by appearing in Cooped Up--which I will now share. The reason for my telling of this story, you ask? Listening to this song reminded me of the experience, and it gives me something to blog about.

My high school (that year I was in Spokane) was holding its senior talent show. For the life of me I can't figure out why, but I decided to participate in it. So I wrote an arrangement (very different than the Song of the Day) of "Wonderful Tonight" for a piano and a guitar and enlisted the help of my friend (okay, she was my girlfriend--but we don't talk about past sins here) to play the piano. I sang and played the guitar, and had one of the greatest experiences of my life. We received a standing ovation from a pretty large group of folks, and won a hundred bucks. That was the first (and one of the last) times I ever played/sang in front of anyone.

For the sake of your sanity, that's the watered-down version. Just thought I'd explain why this song is so great to me and fulfill my blog quota in one swell foop! Sorry to share such a personal experience and not even attempt to be humorous. It shouldn't happen again... until the baby's born... then it'll probably happen a lot. But for this week, it shouldn't happen again... too often.

Baby Update

We just got back from our due-date doctor's appointment, and here's the story.

Baby hasn't lowered at all this past week, and Pretty Pregger hasn't dialated. They stripped her membranes again, and the doctor said that he's confident that labor should start within 24-48 hours. If it doesn't, we have another appointment Friday. If nothing happens by Tuesday (one week from today), he'll induce her.

So there you go! Pray for labor!

Van Hecksing

Yesterday evening I was enjoying some tasty spaghetti and bread that my wife and her mother had cooked when something made my food go sour: Van Helsing. No, Hugh Jackman didn't burst through the door of our apartment and pour lemon juice all over my spaghetti. He and his cohorts did, however, make the movie Van Helsing and are, therefore, condemned.

I generally put movies into two categories: good movies and entertaining movies. I had to mentally create the latter so that I could still enjoy the horrible ones. An example of what I'm talking about is The Mummy: the story stinks and the acting is lame, but at least those aren't as bad as the writing. Even with these weaknesses, The Mummy is entertaining--and with that new category of movies I can still enjoy that movie, bad though it was. Van Helsing didn't even make it into the same class as The Mummy--sad.

In fact, here are more details from the night to illustrate just how bad the movie was. Most of you know that I love sports. All sports. I will even watch the dart-throwing championships on Fox Sports at 2 in the morning--I'm a sports addict. However, I will not watch figure skating. I don't know why, but it has the same effect on me that three-week old curry has on Cicada (think of Puss-in-Boots coughing up a hairball). That being said, my wife convinced me to watch Cutting Edge, a movie about figure skating, after we watched Van Helsing. The figure skating sequences were like watching Braveheart when compared with Van Helsing. I'm telling you, it was horrible (although Cutting Edge wasn't that bad). The lone bright spots were when Dracula's offspring would pop. They would just explode randomly. That was funny.

There was one interesting thing I noticed in Van Helsing. Every time Igor spoke I got the feeling that he should be serving beer in a small, underground bar in Boston. I think I finally figured out why.

The Joys of Aging

I apologize for the random nature of this story. It happened last night, when I was at home with my wife. We sure thought it was pretty funny, but I hadn't thought about it since it happened. Until a coworker said something today that reminded me of it. In relating the story to him (typing on Instant Messenger, mind you) I couldn't even finish typing because I was laughing so hard. After nearly ruining my computer with insane amounts of peach juice earlier today I had another close call with my laughter-induced tears. I even caught the coworker sitting next to me shooting a sideways glance at me, probably wondering if I was crying.

WARNING: This will not be as funny to you as it is to me.

Earlier in the day, I made my way through our massive 850 square-foot apartment to the bedroom where I was going to change clothes. Because my sweet mother-in-law and my wife's little sister are here waiting for the baby to come, I threw the door shut on my way into the bedroom. My wife was sitting at the computer desk playing Minesweeper (and getting a new low time, I might add), and astutely observed that the door didn't shut--it's a light door that you have to push closed to actually shut. Anyway, upon making this observation, she quipped "turns out you actually have to shut the door to shut it" in an attempt at making fun of me for saying the same exact sentence earlier in the day when I failed to shut the door. I, however, didn't catch on that she was commenting on the door that was swinging back open. Instead, I thought she was saying something completely different. The conversation went as follows:

Me: "What about Baron Von Norbett?"

Pregger: "What? Who's Baron Von Norbett?"

Me: "How should I know? You're the one who's talking about him going into orbit."

Pregger: [blank stare]

Me: "Didn't you just say 'Baron Von Norbett is going into orbit'?"

Pregger: [blank stare turning slowly into a "you're a moron" look]

Me: "I'll go change in the bathroom."

Ah, the joys of aging. Imagine what I'll hear when I get past my 20s!

Juan Dixon

Although most of you don't care about basketball--and if you do you certainly don't care about my Blazers, but there was a column written by John Canzano about new Blazers guard Juan Dixon in today's Oregonian (Oregon's big newspaper). This is no ordinary guy. You would be hard pressed to find a guy who has made more of a horrible situation than Dixon has. Although the column would be better if you knew more about other Blazers players (Canzano alludes to them), it would be worth your time to read about this amazing story.

Maybe now the sun shines for Dixon

Song of the Day (8-5-05)

In case you didn't listen to the previous Song of the Day ("White Crosses" by Edwin McCain), I'm leaving the link in the sidebar.

Today's Song of the Day is by Jonny Lang, the most soulful skinny white boy I've ever heard. I saw this kid play (he's 22 or so now) when he opened for Aerosmith--he was 17! He mainly played blues back then, but recently he released his album Long Time Coming which is a lot more mainstream rock. He is an amazing guitarist and he has one of the most full and emotional voices in rock. This song, "The One I Got," is an obvious tribute to his wife of a few years. Enjoy!

Juicy Fruit!

I just had the juiciest peach in all of my peach eating days. I took my first bite while sitting at my desk, but immediately had to go to the break room to avoid certain distaster. One of which would be being completely ostracized by my coworkers because of the rather disgusting sucking noises that the peach required. Another possible disaster would have been causing the crashing of my computer and those that surround me because of excessive amounts of peach juice flooding the room.

For the good of humanity, I was forced to the break room where I would be left alone to stand ankle deep in peach juice. I have to go to the bathroom right now, but I can't move--I'm stuck to my chair.

Political Compass? Mine points forward.

I just took this survey called the "Political Compass" (thanks, Ambrosia). I'm always up for political surveys and analysis, so I thought "Why not? I'm not doing anything... at work.... Anyway, I took the survey and encourage you to also; however, be warned--it takes a while.

http://www.politicalcompass.org/

It turns out I'm pretty moderate, which shouldn't be surprising. I am an equal opportunity Fed-Uppist. According to this survey, however, if I'm anything I'm left of center. Interesting? Not really. The questionnaire is poorly designed. Some examples:

1) Many of the questions were worded terribly. For example, one statement (to which there were only "Strongly Disagree," "Disagree," "Agree," or "Strongly Agree" options) read "No one can feel naturally homosexual." Okay, I understand what the point of the question is. The writers of the survey were probably trying to say "I believe that people can be born as homosexuals--it is not a choice." However, they did not say that. They asked about someone's personal feelings--and I have no doubt that there are many who feel that they are naturally homosexual; whether one can actually be born as a homosexual is a completely different issue. This is just one example of many poorly worded questions that skew results.

2) There were only four options (see #1): one could only agree or disagree, with varying levels. How about a middle option of "Undecided" or "It depends on the situation." When surveys don't have a middle option it is because the survey's creators don't want a cop-out option, which people probably use far too much. They want to force people into making a decision. Unfortunately, that decision doesn't necessarily reflect the person's views.

Solution: A more productive practice would be to include a question asking what everyone's perceived political persuasion is, rather than trying to tell them. This could get some really cool results back about what people who perceive themselves as liberals, conservatives, libertarians, or authoritarians (the four emphases in the survey) actually feel about specific issues.

Lastly, although I always support organizations that try to help people understand how they truly believe about politics, religion, or sports (don't underestimate the importance of sports opinions), I can never trust a survey with typos. But Im sure they meen well.

This is why the Lord gives us science and technology

I don't know if any of you heard this story, but it's something worth blogging about. My wife told me a little bit about it last night, so I looked up the story this morning.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/08/03/AR2005080301572.html

To summarize, a pregnant woman became braindead after the cancer she was afflicted with spread to her brain. They decided to keep the woman on life support for three months until the baby was strong enough to be born. Tuesday, the baby was born (C-section)--Wednesday, the mother died. The husband decided to finally take her off of life support and let her pass away as the mother of two children. Amazing.

Something I hadn't thought of, but my beautiful wife did, is the unheralded husband. We often hear of husbands kidnapping and killing their pregnant wives (Scott Peterson, the Hacking guy), and in the Media Age that we live in it seems like it happens more often than it probably does. But that's a blog for another time. The husband in this incredible story actually chose to keep his wife alive just long enough so that she could give birth to another child that he would have to take care of without her! Alone! May our prayers be with this family and may the two children grow up to know, like their parents, what is really important in this life. Thanks to them for their inspiring story, and thanks to my wife for her different perspective!

Song of the Day/Week/HoweveroftenIgettoit

If you're a particularly astute observer (or you're on this site too much--in which case you have bigger problems than how much time you spend at my blog) you'll notice a new link in the sidebar on the right. It is a new feature that I am implementing called the "Song of the Day" (whether it will be the song of the day or the song of the week or month remains to be seen). All thanks be to Red for his html expertise.

Anyway, I will post some of my favorite songs here frequently. Not only does this give my ever-growing readership (it is implied that the number of readers is growing, not the readers themselves) some listening pleasure, but it gives me a chance to proselytize. If you know me well you know that I am quite arrogant about my taste in music; therefore, I will give everyone who cares to listen tastes of some great music.

Today's selection is off of Edwin McCain's latest CD: Scream and Whisper. The song is called "White Crosses," and although it addresses a pretty politically divisive issue it stays clear of any partisanship. One more piece about Edwin--he's my favorite songwriter. His talent for matching lyrics with instruments in both beat and mood is tough to find these days.

Enjoy!

P.S. To set everyone's minds at ease, let me assure you all that I did go up and down every stair with the beautiful Pregger yesterday--out of shape and everything.

Who brought the nearsighted kid?

Please... whoever is reading this. If you think any sort of positive thoughts about me, my looks, my character, or perhaps a family member, see Red's post with the same title as this one. www.christeredwards.com. You win this round, Red.

Contract Already!

Although I made it a goal to not be on campus more than once a week during my classless summer (I'm not taking classes--I still have class), I find myself here for the second time this week. The wife is walking up and down the longest staircase we can find hoping to trip whatever wire that sets the contractions off. I, however, will not join her in this back-and-forth trek. I am trying not to induce labor for myself.

Pet Peeves

Although I notice the continuing trend of bloggers abusing the privilege to blog by using it only to complain about the world and am irritated by the pattern (which is, in itself, a complaint), I will now join the ranks.

Because I was, again, nearly made late to work (and would therefore have had my perfect punctuality ruined) by an overly cautious driver who refused to turn right until the light turned green despite there being no vehicles between that car and St. Louis, I find it entirely appropriate to voice my frustration right now over some entirely preventable weaknesses that my brothers and sisters of the human family cannot seem to overcome (wow . . . what a sentence!). In doing so, I hope that both of you who read this will understand that I wish no harm on those who perpetrate these gross errors, nor do I cuss (it means swear) at them under my breath. Nope. That never happens. I only wish to bring these issues to the forefront of the minds of my countless readers so that if you are thinking of committing these really-close-to-unpardonable sins you may reconsider.

1) Driving in Utah. This may not be entirely preventable--I only ask that everyone do it as little as possible. Every time I leave the parking lot of my complex I regret the fact that I won't graduate (and therefore flee these motorists--a term used loosely) for another year.

2) Mass e-mails from coworkers in a building located fifteen minutes north advising all within walking distance of the delicious, free, twelve-course leftovers in the break room--hypothetically speaking, of course. I just mention it because if it ever happened it seems like it would be really annoying. Also hypothetically, TAKE ME OFF THE MAILING LIST!!! . . . If that ever happens. Yeah.

3) The use of the word (again, a loosely used term) "anyways." Please, in the name of everything grammatically correct, stop. Use "anyway." Use "anyhoo." Use "I can't think of what to say here because I can't say 'anyways.'" I don't care. You know, I'm not sure the word "anyhoo" could ever be used in intelligent conversation. As I hear a voice saying it in my head right now . . . yep (see #4).

4) The use of the word "anyhoo."

5) The "blessing" of the ice cream and cookies at church functions. Saying a prayer of thanks for the tasty treats is entirely appropriate. Asking for the sugar-laden comestibles (thanks for the word, Ambrosia) to "nourish and strengthen" the bodies they enter seems, at the very least, asinine. (Man, that's a great word.)

6) The Yankees. I hate them.

Although I recognize the fact that a list of six items aesthetically disagreeable, I can feel my mood worsening as I think of all of the worst things in the world (yes, the Yankees are included). So I will return to thinking about how my wife almost went into labor last night! I hope none of you have lists of pet peeves that include people who can only seem to talk about spouses or children. I have a suspicion that there will be more of that from me.

My New Coworker

My beautiful wife nailed the interview and is now employed! She tests the courses (takes them as if she were a student to find errors) that I edit before they get published! That sure will help with the littlun on the way--I hear kids are expensive. Way to go, Leesh!

Babyless in Provo

Okay, so we understand that it's good to plan for a late arrival, but we not-so-secretly hope for an early one. As grateful as she is for being pregnant, my wife would just as soon not be pregnant anymore. Personally, I would love it if she could sleep. Plus, I get five days off from work when the baby comes, so the sooner the better. Alas, we are still a two-member family. We're just anxious for the littlun to come! Above is me, anxious (pre-haircut).

Another fun thing is that the Wifee will be here (at my workplace) momentarily to interview for a job! If she gets it, she will be able to work from home (on deadline but at her leisure), making some extra scratch for the kid! Wish her luck!