Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Sonograms: what the hell are we looking at here anyway?

(Looking at sonograms is like looking at clouds. I see a frog.)

Sonograms are weird. The whole process is weird. The people who perform the sonogram are weird, the doctor who analyzes the sonogram is weird and the ten other people in the room are weird. Matter of fact, I think I am kinda weird during the sonogram.
I am a little put out by the extreme amount of goo that they squirt on Sylvia's belly. It looks like she has been busting ghosts. I also find it strange how comfortable the doctors are with poking the belly. Don't babies have soft head to allow the fetus to cross through the pelvis? Is poking the head a good idea?
Man, speaking of mailable heads, we watched a video at the baby training and the baby they were featuring came out looking like a slimy baby pope. He had a tiny miter on. The doctors slapped him and lit a fire in the fireplace. Lets hope baby Thurmond doesn't have such a piked noggen.

Anyway, here is a picture of the first sonogram:

As you can see, the tiny fetus was very dapper in its first few days of life. This is no doubt due to superlative genetic componentry. The "peanut" as we called it could do a mean Charleston but due to its size, it went unnoticed. The peanut did not stay this size, however. It began to grow rapidly. Sylvia often complained of cramps that I surmised could only be caused by tiny one-armed push-ups. There was not a question in my mind that our baby was training. Training for the big event. The GBE. The infant had plans of shooting out of the womb like a russet out of a potato gun. Here is a photo of the fetus at about 10 weeks:

(Impressive, I know.)

At our next sonogram, I noticed that our child was showing a affinity for the arts. Here you can see Baby Thurmond playing a lovely Baroque piece, I believe Orazio Vecchi's L'Amfiparnaso , on the clavichord:
By 25 weeks, Baby Thurmond was showing that there was no field out of reach for this child. Check out this special glimpse we got one afternoon:

Baby Thurmond is demonstrating the formula for velocity and calculating his/her trajectory by which he/she will engage in the GBE. Maybe that's why he has to have a cone shaped head. Maybe Baby Thurmond is going to try and shoot across the room like so many spuds fueled by Aquanet.

Well, even through the miracle of modern science that is the sonogram, we have seen Baby Thurmond as a very advanced fetus, I guess we won't know how talented he/she will be until he or she pops out. I think parents can only hope that their children will be very special. I can only imagine how proud the parents of the child below felt when they had a baby with a full beard:

One can only pray for such a special child. Chuck Norris's parents must have been very excited.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

A Note on Hyperlinks

For those of you who aren't sure why some of the words or phrases in the blog are a different color or underlined, let me take a few moments to explain. These are called hyperlinks. Hyperlinks are a great way to communicate important information that may or may not directly pertain to the information you are reading. Hyperlinks also can convey a concept or image sometimes in subtle manner. For the blogger, the hyperlink is an important tool in his or her toolbox and offers the reader an added dimension of enjoyment.

Here is the boilerplate definition of a hyperlink. Please note that the definition includes many hyperlinks which, contrary to what your 8th grade English teacher told you about using the word in the definition, is OK:

In computing , a hyperlink is a reference in a document to an internal or external piece of information. The most common usage is in the Internet to browse through web pages: some text in the current document is highlighted so that when it is clicked, the browser automatically displays another page or changes the current page to show the referenced content.

To make these magical texts come alive, simply click on them. Some will take you to exciting videos while others will show you photographs. You will also find that I will refer to an old post by utilizing a hyperlink. Hyperlinks are very fun and I encourage you to click on them when you see them. Thank you. The Management

Sleepy: the drowsy life of a pregnant lady

Recently I have noticed more and more that Sylvia cannot keep her eyes open. Her spry, generally alert state has been subsumed by a tired eyed, hazy automaton. Not to say that she isn't still fun to play with. Of course, her lethargy is not the result of a drunken night at the boutique tequila bar or extreme exercise but due to her increased girth and fetal movements! As you saw in the last post, Sylvia's belly has indeed increased in size and mass indicating the growth of the uber-fetus that is my progeny. Said fetus is preparing to enter the world shortly and therefore Sylvia's body must ready itself for the Great Baby Eruption (GBE).

Many changes are occurring simultaneously. Sylvia's pelvic joints are now loosening themselves like so many snakes unlock their jaws to consume their meals. Also, increased hormone levels, especially progesterone have interesting effects on mom. At first, I thought this meant she would grow a mustache or a unibrow but the internet cleared up that misconception for me. Lucky for me and unlucky for the county fair, progesterone only serves to make Sylvia sleepy (among other things like strange effects on the esophageal sphincter--not what you think) and is a signal to the body that the GBE is happening soon.

It's not only hormones making her tired. She is being bothered. Unbeknowst to me, babies can have hiccups. Hiccups! The baby hasn't been drinking anything nor eating too fast. Apparently, the hiccups are so striking that Sylvia can be awaken even in the deepest of sleeps. Therefore, I have devised a plan to combat the fetal synchronous diaphragmatic flutter. First, I will hide in
the closet dressed as Rush Limbaugh and pop out exclaiming, "where is my precious grandbaby and Vicodin?!?" If that doesn't work, I will help Sylvia perform some of the inverted maneuvers we saw at Cirque De Soleil hoping for a diaphragm restart.

After all this has been said, I have to admit that I am the main reason Sylvia is not getting enough sleep. Because of my shoulder surgery, I cannot get comfortable and move around more that the baby ever does. We have tried to position so that I don't wake up and disrupt Sylvia but it is to no avail. We have stripped down the bed to allow for freedom of movement and we have built up a tower of buttress pillows to prop the shoulder. Nothing works (except Vicodin). I toss, she tosses. I turn, she turns. Unfortunately, after a visit to the doctor today, I found out that I am far away from being healed. In fact, four months from being a super pater familias. But don't worry grandmothers, I will be able to hold the baby, help Sylvia with everything and be able to lift the bottle of Jack so I (and Sylvia) can sleep. I wonder if Jack Daniels is good for hiccups?

Sunday, September 20, 2009

baby to be: porro ago ova

Sylvia is now approximately 42 days away from babydom and she is finally looking pregnant. For many weeks now, the general public has questioned her pregnancy due to her size and many mothers-to-be have been upset with her sculpted abs and all-around pleasant outlook on carrying a baby to term. But now, there is no doubt in her progress in gestation - see these helpful illustrations:

As we were creating these informative photographs we began to feel obligated to include some more sensitive examples of belly.

Here is the famous heart photo popularized by Anne Geddes etal. :
Here is a funny one of me thumping her belly to check for ripeness:

Here she is looking like a beautiful pregnant flower:

Hopefully this will quench your belly lust. I suppose I take for granted the belly since I see it everyday.


Hello family, friends, countrymen and countrywomen!

Welcome to our new family oriented blog. Some of you might have been wondering why we haven't created a family-themed blog until now (or not). Well, we felt like we didn't really have a family to necessitate a blog but that's all going to change soon, as many of you know. In just a few weeks (or sooner) Sylvia will give birth to our new ubermensch named either Roby Marie or Cannon James (CJ). Yes, we understand that these are not main stream names. However, we think that our progeny will be held to a extraordinary standard due to his or her extraordinary name. No pressure, though. I am sure the baby will be a normal, well-adjusted child, even though destined to be a super squirt. We plan to post photographs and cute quips about the baby's progress. We wouldn't want any of you miss some of the "firsts" like the meconium or the first time I get peed on. But the new baby is not the only thing we will blog about in this forum.

For the family, we will review the going-ons of our day-to-day lives-- which I am sure you will all find riveting. I know I will be on pins and needles. Sylvia or I will update you on things like job changes, home alterations or every time I go to the emergency room. But that's not all. We will also provide exciting Gov'na coverage like what happened this morning:
Last night, we (S, J and K) went to our friends house to watch the Arkansas vs. Georgia game. Because I dislike watching football, I decided to drink bountiful amounts of flavored beers and mango-grapefruit greyhounds. I think you can guess what happened. After the game was over, we came home and went to bed. Then something strange occurred.

At 5:34am, I heard Govy urinating in the prison we keep him in at night. I shot out of bed, ran to the cage, and forced him out by swatting wildly at him with a t-shirt. He was visibly and audibly upset and peed all over the room. It was like backing over a fire hydrant filled with Mountain Dew. He yelped and ran towards the stairs to escape to the backyard. I let him out and he continued to leak for the entirety of his journey. Poor Gov'na. I consoled him and his leaky bladder on the steps of the patio. After he was restored to his jovial self, we returned to the scene of the “accident.” When I got upstairs I realized I had made a staid error, perhaps spurred by my alcoholic haze from the night before. I went to the cage where I believed the urinating had prematurely commenced and found no urine. I checked his bedding, his little sheets, the surround wall and found no evidence to support that a wee-wee crime had been committed! Yes, in fact, I had dreamed the whole thing and, because of the impulsive nature of my actions, had scared the whiz out of Gov! What a bad dog owner! I now owe the Gov many walks and perhaps a pig ear. Anyway, this is the kind of content that you can expect in this blog. If you enjoy pee stories then please return and, if not, respectfully piss off (to be read in a Gordon Ramsey accent)

For friends, we will provide an account of the misadventures of our social lives and public humiliation—which, for me, there are many. We will tell tales of epic sporting exploitations, broken bones, miscalculated home improvement projects, giant paper mache creations, stoopid pet tricks, insane commitment to outlandish goals, Bacchanalian meals and parties and of course, stories of great love for life. It will be good, so stick around.

So, that is all for now.

I personally apologize for the urine themed welcome. It is not indicative of the blogging to come nor is it something that Sylvia would approve of with any regularity. Welcome and see you soon. Thank you for reading.