I’m currently trying to write something for a work function. The words just ain’t a coming. I’m staring at the notes I have and I stare at the computer screen thinking, “Can’t these damn notes just jump on the screen?” That technology doesn’t exist yet.

But I’m working on it. You can bet your sweet bippee. What the hell is a bippee?

So, why haven’t I been adding anything to this wonderful free website I’ve set up for my amusement (and dissemination of my lunatic ramblings)? Well, I’ve been busy. Working my butt off for ‘da man.

Life at home is fantastic. Wife and daughter are fantastic. Better than fantastic.

Hell, next month I get to watch a child begin its journey towards knowledge. Tasting, seeing, hearing, smelling, feeling. All of that will be a new experience. Hell, the kid doesn’t even know what his feet look like. Life is an enormous discovery. Imagine if you suddenly discovered you could feel music. Every day in a baby’s life is like that.

Anyhow, I’ll go back to my proposal. The words still won’t come. Ugh.

I think I’ll go get more Biscotti and throw it at people as they walk by. Biscotti is dangerous. Right? What the hell is Biscotti anyway? It tastes like petrified cake. Which, if you think of it, explains why they expect you to dip it in coffee. To kill the mold.

Of course they are much like those cookies you give babies when they are teething. Maybe I’m teething, which would explain why I’m so cranky.

Don’t believe me? *$#* you then.

Monday nights are our Bradley classes. Bradley, by the way, is the concept of completely natural childbirth, where the parents are in charge and the doctor is there to assist. The further I get in the process, the more understanding I gain, I realize, "This really does make sense." Granted, it will be difficult for me to keep Chris' wishes in mind, instead of slamming a doctor against the wall demanding that he make her pain stop.

But, last night, I realized that I really think we can do this. Yes, it will hurt. But it stops. There is a purpose for the pain and understanding the messages your body is sending you can control the pain. I realized that Chris could do it. She can focus on this and really get this little one born safe and healthy. And, for the record, I will not be dumb enough to tell Chris that I understand what she’s feeling. If I’m that stupid then I deserve what I get in return.

So anyway, we were watching the infamous birth movies. Being a veteran of the Discovery Channel, I’ve seen plenty on television, including a C-Section. So, I wasn’t as phased by our classmates by what was going on. However, I did notice that because the mothers weren’t medicated unnecessarily they were completely lucid and able to ENJOY the birth. Amazing. When one of the mothers burst into tears of joy, exclaiming “My baby! Oh, my baby!” I almost lost it. How could I not? She was thrilled, not to be through with the pain, but with the little being she was the product of all her work over the last hours, and last nine months. Her joy was something that must be seen, but it may never be understood. Considering the bad reputation the pregnancy and birth entire process seems to garner from a wide majority of people (both men and women), I think humanity has managed to lose sight of the beautiful moments that are involved in the entire process.

It’s impossible to put into words. How do you describe the moment that you realize you and your partner have created life? LIFE. Not a plant from a seed, but a child that will grow. A child with an entire unwritten story ahead. A child who only asks that you treat it with respect and kindness, nothing more. How do you describe the moment when you first hear that heartbeat? The moment you realize that these random cells, equal parts you and the person you love, have found some sort of order in the chaos and created a beating heart. A HEART. What words could describe the ultrasound when you see your child. Fingers. Toes. A brain. A fully functional person, growing inside the body of a woman. The two working together on a process that has been virtually unchanged in millions of years to produce one perfect being with the mysterious ingredients that eventually form thoughts, ideas, and personality. To be there the moment that this life actually meets his or her parents face to face. Truly mind blowing in its grandeur. Forget Mark McGwire. My wife is growing a friggin human! Top that!

What will make it better for us, I now understand, is that we will be working together in the final stages of the process not to conquer the pain that nature uses to tell you that you should change positions or that your child’s progress to birth is coming to an end, but to understand it and work with it. Better yet, I know that my wife will not only be lucid during this time, but will be able to walk away from it on her own power.

Hard to understand, I know. It’s hard for me to understand. But suddenly, I do.

3-2-1 Penguins! Kids - Penguins Ship Lander

I've been sick for the last few days, hence no updating. Now I'm swampped with work, hence no update.

I have plenty to talk about, with the daugther learning to ride a bike and the fact that Elvis is barely a month away from revealing whether or not he's an alien. I'll get to it, I promise.

Of course, if you know anybody who's willing to pay me to write about silly stuff like this . . . let me know and I'll worship them as needed.

Meanwhile, play this groovy little game. You can't beat a game that involves parabolas and gravity fields.