We're having a baby. Stunning revelation, especially for everyone I've informed of the fact in the last six months. "Hi, I'm Gary. We're having a baby." It's not that I think you are stupid (which I do, but that's beside the point) it's that I'm excited. We're having a baby. And you're not. Blah.

Anyway, that's not my point. When you are a pregnant family, the entire world knows everything and you are but a pathetic rube.

"A baby huh? Well, you better get all your sleep now bucko! You're going to need it."

"I'm not really worried about it. It's kind of expected."

"Well, it's much worse than you'll ever imagine."

Right. Everything about a baby is much worse than I'll ever expect, according to the friendly bastards who want to offer you advice. It makes me wonder why they ever bothered having children in the first place. They focus on every negative aspect of the process, rather than the beauty. Yes, birth hurts. Yes, babies take a lot of work and sacrifice. I knew all of this before I decided to have a child.

"But it's different when they are there 24 hours a day."

I know this. I'm fully aware that the baby will not magically disappear in the middle of the night. I'm also fully aware that I will not be able to clock out and take a coffee break in a silent room. Look, I'm prepared for a life of green poo covering everything from those explosive bowel movements babies have. I'm friggin' prepared. I know what's coming.

It's called a baby. A baby that cries, poops, eats, sleeps, gets sick, grows and is fully dependent upon me for its care and safety. You know what? I know what a baby is. Thanks for your input.

Oh, but it's much worse. My wife and I have decided to have this baby naturally. Meaning: No drugs. Freaks people out. "But it HURTS" they say. "We know," we say. We are prepared. We are aware. There is nothing better than knowledge and preparation for any situation. We‘ve made this decision for the following reasons:
1. The baby's health. Drugging the shit out of a neonate doesn't seem like a good idea. (Drugs don't pass the placenta, you say? Well hell, then why can't women do heroin during the entire nine months?)
2. Mom's health. Yes, the epidural masks the pain. MASKS it. It also doesn't allow the woman to feel what her body is trying to tell her. Maybe she needs to move on her side to push. Maybe she needs to move her leg. How would she know if her muscles below her waist can't friggin' move? Besides, they put a needle in your SPINAL CORD. Last time I checked, this is a bad idea. Plus, have you ever had a spinal headache? Me neither, but it doesn’t sound good and I don't want my wife to have one.
3. Mom's state of mind. If mom is allowed to relax and work with her body to give birth (I'm pretty sure the birth process was invented before the epidural), she will be completely lucid for the birth of her child.
4. She is confident and comfortable with this process. She is not comfortable with the "medical" version. Which makes sense to you? We want the birth to be a positive experience. If you disagree, then don't come.

"She won't make it. She'll crack. Just make sure those drugs are close at hand!"

Right. Thanks for your vote of confidence. I have the highest amount of confidence in my wife that she can handle this. I've seen her handle much harder and painful situations. And you know what? It's positive pain. The pain will end. And you know what else? My wife is an amazing, strong woman. Next time you try to tell me anything different, be prepared to be asked to leave. No one speaks poorly of my wife.

And when we look back and are talking to Baby Elvis, mom and dad can look at him or her and say, "We remember CLEARLY the exact moment you were born. It was a wonderful, beautiful time. And every moment since has been wonderful and beautiful."

Because you know what? This baby is not a pain. This baby is not a pooping machine that will destroy my life, my sleep cycles and my ability to watch movies. No, this baby is my son or daughter. And this son or daughter is nothing short of a wonderful miracle. Infant or fetus, I love this child. So please, keep your opinions to yourself.

(To all our friends and family across the country, and Canada, who have been supportive and helpful, we offer our deepest, heartfelt gratitude. You know who you are, and you know how much your friendship is appreciated. To those who have been negative and came up with every reason why this experience will suck . . . Expect a nice package as soon as the baby starts eating solid food. Before you open it, make sure you go into a room with no ventilation.)

Right . . . so we went to my daugther's curriculum night, which is an evening devoted to a teacher explaining exactly how they will teach your child. All very interesting, to an extent. Sure, I'm very concerned about my child's education. Well I should be. I want her to learn as much as possible. But excrutiating detail was a little much for me. "At 8:19.9384758392848684 we begin self-directed reading. This exists for exactly one nanosecond in the space time continum before we move on to self-directed beatings. Humiliation of the child does not begin unilt 2 pm."

Seriously, our teacher seems to be fantastic. Very sweet young woman who has been teaching first grade for four years. In some countries that would mean her tour of duty would be over. She could go home now. Discharged. Soldiers in Macedonia have it easy compared to her. Yet, she seems to take it with an easy grace. But I wonder . . . is this how she is at home? Is she this agreeable all the time? Even keeled? I'm not sure I can wait in line for the drinking fountain without getting agitated, yet she handles 30 six-year-olds and their parents all day long. I envy her, in one sense. You know, shaping of young minds. But still, how does she treat her boyfriend? "Now Kevin, was going out with your friends and getting shit-faced really the best idea? Why don't you sit at your desk and think about it for a while." Come to think of it, how could any man date a teacher? Every act of affection would seem like a public debasement of a revered figure.

I'm sure I had a point at one time. But I don't think I do anymore. Right now the daugther is crying because grandma is going home for the evening. Somehow this moment always comes as a surpise. I'm not sure why. Though I have no doubt that I was the same way as a child. Still, does she not realize that the evening must come to an end at some point? What is a child's concept of time? As an adult, I don't have the same perspective anymore. I dread each morning and welcome each afternoon. I also realize that, at some point, I will be dead. Children don't see this. They can only see the moment and the unending future. Ah, to be a child again.

Rather, I live with the normal fears of an adult. Or maybe they are abnormal. I fear failure, death, pain, uncomfort, tupperware, invisible assasins and poverty. Still, there's a creeping fear every day that I may not have enough time with my family. That I'll miss out on the most important moments of their lives. There's that crushing fear at three a.m. that they'll be taken from me and I won't know what to do. Or, that I'll die suddenly and they'll have to live without me.

Of course, I'll be dead. What will I care? Maybe I'll have some sort of super powers then. I hope so. Otherwise being dead would really suck.

This is my first blog. More later.

Ack. Ack.