Babies and Brisket

The weekend went well for the most part. We had a good time playing with the kids. I’d say the highlight was playing in the back yard and eating “cool cups.” The low point is a tie between Reagan getting sick and throwing up all over the couch and trying to go on a picnic at the San Jacinto Monument and being swarmed by mosquitoes while the kids stood there and argued with me about why they should run back to the car.

Father’s Day was interesting and just a little surreal. Technically I am a father now, but I don’t actually have a baby yet so it kind of seemed like I was cheating. Kristi got me a “Best Dad” t-shirt and Kayci gave me a “Daddy’s Girl” onesie. We had the kids make cards for craft time on Saturday and I took the chance to make cards also. I instructed the kids to draw a picture on the front of their card with a fun time they had with their daddy, then with Grandpa. On my cards I chose to draw my dad and I camping when I was a Boy Scout. Good times… And I drew the entire thing with my right hand, so it looked as if an eight-year-old had drawn it. From Kayci, I drew a picture of my dad putting her changing table together. They haven’t had a lot of time together yet- mainly because she’s still in the womb- but I know they’ll spend plenty of time together later. For Kristi’s dad’s card I chose to draw a picture of the two of us running my remote control car in the dirt on a trip we took to Round Rock. Getting a hand-drawn card from an adult who’s a cartoonist may seem like a goofy thing or may seem to get old, but it made me happy and I enjoyed doing it. It made me stop and remember some really good times I’ve had with my father figures. I don’t care what Hallmark says- that’s what Father’s Day is all about.

Sunday evening we got a little excitement. I happened to look over at Kristi sitting on the couch and she had a contemplative look on her face. I asked what was wrong and she said that she though she might be having a contraction. Of course, I became very excited and wanted to know everything she could tell me about what was going on. The contraction wasn’t very long- about 30 seconds- but she said it felt like a cramp. It also turned out that it wasn’t the first one she had had either. She had had one about ten minutes before and hadn’t bothered to tell me. I was pretty mad at her at this point. First of all, this is the one thing I’m able to help with and really be a part of during the actual birthing process and there she was, sitting on the couch, stealing all action for herself. Second, since Kayci is now breech if Kristi starts having regular contractions we have to get her to the hospital.

So we timed the contractions, but they weren’t consistent at all. She had another one after twenty minutes, then nothing else (that she told me about.) In any case, that spurred us to go ahead and finish packing the hospital bag (Kristi packed already, but I still needed to put some stuff together.) We did that and watched a video on breastfeeding. I got my camera and video camera ready to go. I’ve got eight blank tapes ready. At about 90 minutes per tape, I figure I can accurately chronicle the entire three days we’ll be in the hospital. 

Kayci was active and seems to be moving her head around in there, so I have no idea what she’s up to. As I write this on Monday evening, Kayci’s head is down low and off to Kristi’s left side. I bet she’s trying to turn back around. It figures she would since we already dismantled the labor bag we had prepared.

Tomorrow we interview a pediatrician. I know, I know. We waited until the last second. This is James & Kristi style, and we’re okay with that. 

In any case, it’s a little weird to know that by the end of the week we’ll have a Baby Kayci. We’re both very anxious and excited. It’s going to be a long week, but luckily I’ve got a project to work on so hopefully that will help pass the time more quickly. I’m already betting that sleep will be hard to come by on Thursday night. 

It’ll be like Christmas Eve- the anticipation of finally getting to that special day when you get that one little thing you’ve been wanting for what seems like forever, and all you have to do is wait until morning. To this day, I still rarely sleep on Christmas Eve and I’ve never in my life slept past 5:30am on Christmas morning. This has definitely been the hardest present ever to wait for. There’s no peeking (unless you count the ultrasounds- which if followed through with the current analogy- would be like trying to figure out if you’re getting a He-Man or a Skeletor action figure based soley on the size of the package and an X-ray of the box that shows SOMETHING inside with moveable parts.) There’s also no opening the present early. If I had my way, God would have designed a pregnant woman’s belly with a flip hatch so that Daddy could take the baby out, play with her a little bit, then put her back in to cook. Waiting for nine – almost ten – whole months to play with this baby has been like a kid with Attention Deficit Disorder trying to cook a brisket in an EZ Bake Oven. It’s taking an excruciatingly long time, especially at the end.

Then there’s the whole “no return” policy. Not that I already have one in this size, shape or color. Santa doesn’t accept returns and neither does the stork. There are some kids in the world –I happen to know some – that would be prime candidates for return. They’re obviously broken. Some are just plain evil. Unfortunately, putting them back in isn’t an option. They’d just mess up that room, too, within five minutes of getting there and blame it on someone else.

I don’t really know where I was going with that. I’m getting a little loopy here at the end waiting for my brisket…