Living Single

Though I wish this post's title was an homage to Khadijah, Synclaire, Max and Kyle (thumbs up if you caught that joke), it is unfortunately a reference to a major life change that has occurred for me in the past week. I am now divorced and 'living single'. The following is a few random thoughts and observations on divorce and my life going forward as a single father. It may not be completely coherent and fluid, but let's face it, neither is my brain right now so it's fairly representative of how I feel.

Divorce is a strange, convoluted process. Fortunately, ours was very easy compared to how it could have been and can be for some couples. And of course, I say that with the precursor that divorce is never easy for anybody. Because although the decision was a mutual and cordial one for me and my ex, divorce is a stressful, draining and emotional process no matter how quickly or efficiently you are able to get it done.

All of that being said, I feel incredibly fortunate that my ex and I are remaining friends and I know we will do an incredible job of co-parenting. She's a great mother and I'd like to think that I'm a great father. And even in separate households, I have complete faith that the two of us will work together and do everything in our power to create a wonderful life for our daughter.

I think one of the odd things about divorce is trying to share the news with other people. Let's face it, divorce is a major life event. But, it's not treated like other major life events. Engagements, weddings and child births are all approached with mass announcements. Proactive e-mails, phone calls, letters, etc. are made to spread the big news to everyone far and wide. Heck, even when someone passes away, friends and family will get together to celebrate the life of the person that has left. But divorce is treated as such a taboo and 'hush hush' subject, that it's difficult knowing just how to let people know. You feel like people should be aware. But how do you casually bring that up? Honestly, nobody knows how to react. And though some may not come right out and say it, you can always tell when someone puts on their judging eyes after they hear the news.

The divorce makes me feel like a wobbly drunk. One moment I feel like I'm taking one step forward, the next I feel like I'm taking two steps back. My attitude and mind is in a constant tip-toeing state of flux, where I'm optimistic at the prospect of doing what's right, but disappointed that I feel like I've moved my life in reverse.

I'm a worrier by nature. It's rare for a day to go by where my head isn't filled with anxiety about something, whether it's related to money, work, etc. Well, naturally my new role as a divorced single dad has added a whole new set of worries to my life.

I worry that I'll miss out. We're getting to a point where there's going to be a lot of major events in my daughter's life. Before, working full-time, my time with my daughter was limited already. And now, even with joint custody, it's going to be limited even more. I am so frightened at the idea of not being there for significant events in her life. For example, last night she used the 'big girl potty' for the first time. To non-parents, this might seem insignificant or something strange to be excited about. But really, it was disheartening that I couldn't be there for something that is a parental milestone and something worth being proud of. While I loved the news and getting the phone call about it, I couldn't help but feel bummed that I wasn't there. What else will I miss out on? What else will be reduced to just a celebratory phone call?

I worry that I'll be replaced. I know, it might seem like a silly thing to say. But I can't help it. I know that I will always be my daughter's daddy. But I also know that inevitably, my ex will find another man to share her life with, and in the end, part of her life is our daughter. As a new guy begins to spend time and hang out with Ava, I am scared shitless (pardon my French) that a day will come where she wants to hang out with him more than me. Again, it may be a completely baseless and absurd fear to have, but it's just something that's there in my mind.

I worry that I'll be undateable. Let's face it, "26-year-old divorced father" isn't exactly a hot commodity title on paper. I'm at the age where everyone is getting engaged, married or having a baby (trust me, Facebook confirms this fact every day). Of all the women that are still single, I doubt there are many examining the fish left in the sea and going for the one that has a fry (this is the word for a baby fish, apparently..thanks Google). Maybe this is my own self-created delusion, but I feel like divorced parents are looked at as tarnished and well, how do I put this..women can be really picky. Note that I said CAN BE, and that not ALL of you are *ducks flying tomatoes*! But seriously, as confident as I am in what I have to offer somebody in the future, I can't help but feel like I'm walking around with a scarlet letter 'D' emblazoned on my chest.

I worry I just won't be the same. I know that's a vague, generic statement. But right now, I just feel drained in every sense of the word. Emotionally, mentally, some days even physically, I just don't feel like I'm 100% 'me'. I know it will be a process. I know, that like every rough turn in life, there's recovery time needed to get back on the steady, straightened path. I don't want to be pessimistic. I don't want to assume that I'll have no luck in love in the future. I don't want to think that my relationship with my daughter will be scarred. I'm haunted by 'What ifs' and 'mights', but I need to get rid of those mental demons and give myself some clarity as I move forward. Because in the end, that's what I have to remind myself. I AM moving forward. The steps might seem shaky, and sometimes I'll scoot back slightly to keep myself balanced, but the forward progress is there.

I can't live my life worried about being negatively judged on the labels of "divorced" or "single dad". Because ultimately, it's just me. And I'll be the best me I can be, regardless of arbitrary titles.

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It's A Mom's Mom's Mom's World

Look Moms, I'm not trying to start anything. In fact, my beef isn't even with you. I love all of you. Well, almost all of you (the ones regularly featured on Nancy Grace are an exception). Without Moms, us Dads would be nothing. In fact, we wouldn't even exist as fathers if it wasn't for your intense physical and emotional labor. But as an involved parent who actively seeks out information, advice and community engagement on the topic of parenting, I've found one truth to be self-evident:

Dads are getting the short end of the stick.

Whether it's online (both websites and social media), in print ads or on television, fathers just seem to get no respect (feel free to repeat this sentence in a Rodney Dangerfield voice). As I continue to dive deeper and deeper into the Dad blogiverse, I've found that we are a strong and constantly growing demographic. There are many fantastic Dad blogs and Dad-centric information sites started by fathers who clearly have a passion for fatherhood and family. But part of that is because we've HAD to do it. Nobody else is providing a venue for us, so we've created our own individual sites to encourage participation, speak our minds and let our voice be heard since nobody seems to want to welcome it.

Let's face it: the big-name companies and brands have shafted us. I'm not going to name names, but if you have ever sought out information on parenting or products for babies and children, you know what I mean. Mom this. Mom that. Mom Central. Mom Gear. Mom Chat. Mommy Blogs. Momoirs of a Geisha. Xavier's School for Gifted Momsters. No matter which website you turn to, there's a special area, if not multiple areas, devoted to the livelihood of Moms. And then there's social media. Oh, the Mom-centric social media universe. It's almost sickening how much fathers are blatantly disregarded, when we could instead be encouraged to participate and bring another important perspective to the discussion.

Papa's Got A Brand New Diaper Bag

So what about Dads? Don't we matter? I have a newsflash for all of you parenting and child-product-related companies out there: expecting fathers have questions too. We are scared shitless of what's happening during pregnancy, even though we may not be carrying the child. And once we have the child? Yep, still have questions. Still looking for answers, still looking for a way to identify and learn as we navigate through parenthood. Why does nobody seem capable or prepared to meet this desire? Additionally, believe it or not, Dads do in fact spend money on and research products for our children. In fact, though I can only speak for myself, I do a LOT of online research about products before I buy them. But few major websites have 'Dad Essentials', or 'Dad Product Corner'. But you can sure as hell bet that they are there for Moms.

And then of course, there are the classic television ads with a father nowhere in sight, or the one that does exist is a bumbling idiot who seems to be barely functional. I'd say that I'm boycotting all the brands that over-focus on Moms and neglect Dads, but I don't think there'd be any products left for me to try. Dads change diapers. Dads dress and feed their kids. Dads play with their kids. Dads even clean the house! (I know, jaw-dropper) As hard is might be for you modern-day 'Mad Men' to believe, there are involved fathers out there that would scream for joy to see a commercial geared towards Dads instead of the run-of-the-mill, cheesy Mom-centric ad.

Look, I'm in Marketing. I get it. The Mom (and especially Stay-At-Home-Mom) segment is the Marketing executive's dream target audience. And you know what, I'm not wanting to take anything away from Moms. I recognize that they make significant household decisions, that they play an integral role in family life and are especially inclined to be involved with brands they use and participate in online communities. But companies and brands better start recognizing that Dads play an important role in our childrens' lives as well, and we deserve a bit of attention too.

I brought up my frustrations on Twitter today to one website in particular. They responded by noting that they do have one blog written by a father on their website. Yep, ONE Dad blog. You know how many blogs they host that are written by mothers? TWELVE. Now does that seem like balanced coverage to you? Look, I'm not even asking for a 50-50 split here. If we could hit the 25% mark and have 3 blogs representing fathers on this site, I'd be jumping for joy.

Maybe I'm being overly sensitive. Maybe as an especially involved, proud father, I'm irrationally expecting my needs to be met by parenting websites and child product brands. But then again, is that irrational? Is it so unfair to expect the scales to be slightly tipped so that fatherhood can be given a little bit more recognition and coverage? I would tend to say no. And I believe there's an army of Dad bloggers standing strongly behind me that would agree.

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My Dad Kryptonite, Revealed

I still remember the day I developed my aversion to snakes. I was in Tennessee, or Kentucky or some state in that general region. My parents had taken us on a God-forsaken trip to the South to see such attractions as Dollywood (yes, that would be an amusement park started by Dolly Parton) and stay in a cabin in the woods. That particular day, we were hiking up a mountain, when we stumbled across a large crowd stalled at one point on the path. There was a large rattlesnake coiled up in the middle of the trail, and everyone was frozen as the reptile shook its tail in warning.

Now, while this creature didn't bite me or anyone else in the group, it was still a moment that resonates with me today. As a kid, seeing a single animal put the brakes on a group of 20+ adults is a pretty significant sight. Clearly, they were afraid of this thing, so why shouldn't I be?

To this day, I still hate snakes. My encounters with them have been few and far between, but I still am repulsed at the idea of coming across one. Strangely, this fear doesn't translate to other 'creepy crawlies', so to speak. I take no issue with bugs or spiders (in fact, you can ask some of my old college friends about the day I ate a live spider after snatching it  mid-air), and even the small lizards that bound around my parents yard instill more fascination than fear inside of me.

My aversion was brought back full force the other day when I received a picture message from Amanda that showed a dead snake she found a mere 50 yards or so from our apartment. Oh crap. Just looking at a picture on my phone raised my heart rate and caused a string of curses to run through my mind. What if there were more? Is there a nest I need to set fire to? What if they sneak their way into the sewer system and bite my ass while I'm on the toilet?

The picture message that immediately weakened my powers.

This overly dramatic fear of snakes presents one big problem for me, though: I'm a dad. I'm not supposed to be afraid of anything.

All of us dads recognize the fact that, to our kids, we are veritable Supermen. We are there to protect, serve, and show courage in all perilous and scary situations. So what am I supposed to do if I'm ever with me daughter and happen to stumble across a snake? Well, I'll admit. I'm still going to act like a little pansy. Because snakes are my "Dad Kryptonite". And we all have our "Dad Kryptonite", that one major thing (or in some cases, many little things) that make us immediately drop our tough guy facade and show our weakness. I know I'm not alone. I took to Twitter in order to receive some support, and learned I'm not the only one. Other Dads noted their own forms of Kryptonite, including tornadoes and bugs.

As a comic book dweeb, I'm very much in tune to the fact that even the most powerful heroes and villains have their weaknesses. Heck, incarnations of the Green Lantern have had weaknesses to wood and the color yellow (a fear of snakes doesn't look so stupid now, huh?). As much as I never want to crack in front of my daughter, I know it's going to happen at some point. And since I know it's coming, all I can do is plan for it, and do my best to turn it into a teaching opportunity.

After all, fear is a funny thing. We aren't born with it. Hell, Ava has proven time and time again, through her daredevil climbing and diving escapades, that she came out of the womb with no fear or trepidation whatsoever. But as she's grown older, she's developed fears of her own, and lately I've been trying to help her overcome them. But as many times as I might tell her the vacuum cleaner is "nice" and give it kisses, or touch the doorstopper to show her that it's not going to pull my arms off, those fears still linger. They may be around for a long time, and that's okay. Being afraid of things is normal, regardless of how silly or meaningless other people might think it is. If, in 20 years, she still has a fear of doorstoppers, then so be it. She may earn herself a spot on some TLC reality show, but I won't judge her.

Dads, we may not want them to, but our kids will ultimately benefit from learning about our Dad Kryptonite. They need to know that even the toughest of heroes have things that they are afraid of and make their defenses come crashing down. While my daughter will be exposed to the 'human' side of my character, I know my powers of (almost) fearlessness, courage and super strength will remain intact. She'll just know to never dangle a snake in front of my face, or the consequences will be dire. And of course by dire, I mean I'll produce a deafening, high-pitched shriek and run for my life. Hey, but maybe then I can add super speed to my list of powers?

Chime in below, Dads; what is YOUR Dad Kryptonite?

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7 Lessons Learned From My Dad

In the dad blogiverse, it seems to be a requisite to write a post about Father's Day. I've seen guides to the best Father's Day gifts, guides to the WORST Father's Day gifts, explanations of what fathers REALLY want on the holiday and much, much more. I'm hopping on the bandwagon and putting up a Father's Day post, but instead of focusing solely on my role as a father (Which I do most of the time on the blog anyway), I want to dedicate this post as an open letter to my dad. He's an amazing man, and all of my parenting methods (which I like to think are very good) are derived from the way he raised me.

So Dad, without a lengthy introduction, here's a list of 7 of the top moments/memories I shared with you that helped shape who I am today. Some are fun, some are sentimental, but they are all incredibly important and whether you know it or not, make me who I am today and have helped to mold me into the father I strive to be.

1) The success/hard work talk

This is the day in high school when you sat me down with the binder that contained the financial information for my college fund. You essentially summarized the fact that if I worked hard and busted my butt in high school and college, that I would earn scholarship to pay for my education and the money in my college fund would ultimately be mine after I graduated. At the time, it was probably the most sensible way for you to get the message across that hard work reaps its benefits. I was an egotistical teenager, though, so using the money as an 'ultimate reward' was an excellent way to illustrate the point. I'm proud to say I did earn a share of that college fund after graduation, and the overall message sticks with me today. I bust my ass at my job every day, knowing that even if I don't see an immediate reward, it will pay off in the long run.

2) Letting me taste your beer

What kid isn't curious about what their parents' beer tastes like? Heck, Ava already points and grabs at my beer glass, curious about this mysterious 'grown up drink'. But when I was a kid, and would have those random, occassional sips of MGD or Rolling Rock, I was repulsed. Why would anyone want this? Forget being a grown up, I'll stick with my Ecto Cooler and cream soda. Really, there was a lesson to be learned even in this small action: Don't be too eager to grow up. There's a reason that certain things are held exclusive to those older than you; it takes some aging, maturing and growing to be ready for them. From beer to relationships to money and everything in between, some things are just better after you've had some years of experience on this planet. And what do you know? Now I'm a beer fanatic, and I drink beers that you are taken aback by. Funny how that all came full circle..

3) Telling us you lost your job
I didn't believe you at first. I was a kid, and didn't really understand. I'm sorry for that. When you're a kid, you see your parents as invincible (especially a son towards his dad), and it was hard to grasp the idea of something so horrible happening to someone so seemingly strong and indestructible. But it happened. And when you told us that night at dinner, you handled it with tact and a respectable air of calmness. I don't doubt that you were screaming, crying and frustrated inside. But you didn't let it show. You knew that you couldn't upset us, and that to us, everything needed to be "alright", even if it really wasn't. At that moment in time, you were a shining example of humbleness and positivity while staring in the face of loss and disappointment. While I certainly don't hope I ever have to endure getting laid off, I hope that if it does happen, I handle it in the manner you did.

4) Steak N "Shake"

I know it's dumb. But I'll never forget your Steak N Shake joke. In case you forgot (which I doubt you have), it was nothing more than you saying the name of the restaurant, then dancing and gyrating your body as you said the word 'shake'. I have every intention of taking Ava to Steak N Shake at least once in her life so I can repeat this joke. Every corny joke I tell or silly thing I do when with my daughter, there's always going to be a shred of inspiration drawn from your Steak N "Shake".

5) Seeing you cry

The specific moment that has always stuck out in my mind is when we had to bury Sophie, the family dog. Dad, we were in a house full of emotionally-driven, sensitive women. I don't fault them for that by any means, but given the circumstances, I understood why you might have felt a need to be the 'strong' one during sadness or tragedy. But when Sophie passed away and we opted to bury her in the backyard, you broke down like I had never seen before. The vision of you lowering her down, then starting to sob as you scooped dirt back into the hole, will always stay with me. To some, the passing of a family pet might not mean much, but to our family, it was a big deal. Seeing you react the way you did and watching the tears run down your face implanted a permanent reminder in my brain that it's okay to cry, even when others might not think it's necessary or approriate. Nothing is wrong with showing emotion, even in situations when you may be the only one showing it. A constant tough guy facade is overrated and unhealthy.

6) Playing 'What's on the ceiling?'

How could I ever forget this game? You played this with Jill, me AND Libby. We are talking a 'homemade' game that stood up to over a decade's worth of use. You should be proud of yourself! But even more so, laying there and imagining what was on the ceiling was an incredible way to develop our imaginations and sense of creativity. Let's face it, nobody ever wanted to see the same thing on the ceiling twice. Dinosaurs, food, spaceships and more; nothing was off limits in 'What's on the ceiling?', and that's what made it so great. If I didn't have 'What's on the ceiling?', would I be as creative as I am today? I doubt it. To be especially corny, the world is my ceiling and I can create whatever I want.

7) When you told me I'm a great dad

There's not much else to say about this, other than it was a defining moment in my life. To hear you tell me that I'M a great dad is like Daniel-San having Mr. Miyagi tell him he's a karate master. I learned from the best, and to get a compliment on my parenting from my mentor is about as meaningful as it can get. I can only hope that as I grow as a father, that I live up to your example.

I hope to pass on the lessons I learned from you to Ava as she grows up: work hard and you will reap the benefits; don't be in a hurry to grow up; stay humble and hopeful in the face of adversity; always stay silly; don't be afraid to cry, even if others may not; always let your creativity and imagination grow; and when she has children, I'll remind her to always encourage and compliment them on the amazing job they are doing.

I love you, Dad. Happy Father's Day, thank you for all of the lessons you've taught me, both directly and indirectly. And thank you for being such a great Grandpa. Now, I just have to hope that you read this!

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THE FINAL COUNTDOWN

Europe - The Final Countdown
Uploaded by DARKBENZIN. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.

Okay I had to put that video there..but now that it's out of the way, let's get down to business.

We are less than a month away from Ava's due date, but the fact is, she could be coming at any time now and it's simply a matter of us being as ready as we can be. Last night was a strong reminder of the fact that we are playing a guessing game here, and ultimately our lives are under Ava's control at this point. It might sound incredibly dramatic, but it's true. To make a long story short, Amanda and I were sitting there at 10:30 last night with our packed up, ready to make the trek to the hospital if the contractions she was feeling continued. They ended up subsiding (obviously, otherwise this post would be titled a bit differently), but it was just another reminder of just how close we are. And today, Ava is probably sitting in there laughing because Mom and Dad are now frantically putting together a to-do list for this week of all the things that are yet to be done. Congratulations Ava, you are 1/30th my size and you can send me into a anxiety-fueled frenzy. Reeeeeal cool!

So since I've gone far too long between posts YET AGAIN, where do I start?

Probably the biggest event that has happened since the last post was our pre-admission appointment at the hospital. We got a chance to meet with the Maternity Care Coordinator, fill out some good old paperwork (what else is new) and get a glimpse of the maternity ward at St. Luke's South. It was great to see everything, and was yet again one of those 'Holy crap' moments that makes everything seem that much more real. It might sound strange that I keep saying that; obviously the baby is real and I can feel her moving every day, and we are constantly talking about her and getting ready. But there's still this certain air of unreality (yep its a word, look it up) about it all that gets broken by certain moments. Getting a chance to see one of the room's was definitely one of those moments in this situation. Getting to look into an empty room might not seem like much, but for somebody who has been preparing and waiting for this event, it's like being presented with this halfway-completed canvas; my mind immediately started filling in the blanks and envisioning scenarios in my head. Seeing Amanda hold her for the first time, ME getting to hold her for the first time, all of us asleep at night in the room, our families coming and visiting. They all played out in my head like a movie preview and came accompanied with a strange mix of anxiety, anticipation and excitement.

Random thought: Amanda gave me a piece of information last week that completely broke my heart. Were you aware that babies can actually cry while they are inside of the womb? How terrible is that? Now every time there is a loud noise or some movement I'm sitting there praying that she isn't crying, because there is literally NOTHING I can do and I don't even like the thought of her in there crying with nobody to comfort her.

Another random thought: Amanda reminded me of the fact that babies are obviously going to fart audibly in public. Why is there a part of me that is tempted to fart in public sometime and blame the baby?

One new thing I find myself doing as I get closer and closer to Ava's arrival is making rules for myself as a father. The rules vary and pertain not only to how I'll act as a parent but also just my life in general. Here are some of the ones I've come up with thus far..some serious, some not as serious.

-I will never dress like a complete dweeb. For example, I saw a dad at Jimmy John's the other day wearing some high water, 80s-looking Levis with his long sleeve t-shirt tucked in and no belt. I mean come on now..I know you have kids, but did the kids break all the mirrors in your house or what?

-If Ava is ever involved in athletics or anything of a competitive nature, I'll always support her to the fullest and cheer her on, but I'll never let it get to an extreme where I am disparaging or talking garbage about the other team/opponent/etc. They are all kids who are working their butts off and doing something they enjoy, and should be treated as such.

-I will never purchase Heelys for Ava. She may temporarily hate me for it, but those are the most obnoxious, unnecessary 'shoes' I've ever seen. And there very well may be a 'No Heely' rule in my house if her friends have them.

-On a similar note, I will do everything in my power to keep her from watching Hannah Montana, High School Musical, The Suite Life, etc. (or whatever show is equivalent in a few years) I know I'll have limited control on this one, but those shows make kids grow up way too fast, and gives them the message that being a smartass/sarcastic/bitchy/dumb girl is something to take pride in. Sorry Disney, that's not the message I feel like passing onto my child; I'll stick to having her watch the classic animated movies, and maybe you should consider sticking to making those.

-I will very gradually, and very carefully, ease Ava into using a computer, especially the Internet. There's a lot of scary/disturbing/inappropriate stuff out there, and its way too easy to find.

-I will do my best to prevent her from being too technology-dependent for entertainment. Recently I've seen commercials for a new toy that is an electronic bike that plugs into the TV and plays games on the screen while they pedal. Here's a brilliant idea: get your kid a bike with some training wheels, and have them ride outside. It's exercise and constant visual stimulation that isn't constrained by what can fit on a cartridge or TV screen.

-I'll never get so wrapped up and involved in my job that I neglect spending time with my family. A lot of new dads probably make this claim, and there are probably plenty that end up failing to honor it, but I think its one of the most important principles that can exist for a parent.

-After the big first words like momma, dadda, grandma, grandpa, etc., Ava will be able to say TOUCHDOWN, KAAAANSAS CITY! (hopefully by then they will actually be scoring them)

-As much as it pains me to say it, I will cut down on my rap music listening (in other words, eliminate it when she is around). There is way too much material in rap music that could potentially bring about questions that I am not prepared to answer AT ALL. Maybe just a little Tech N9ne would be okay though..(Amanda will smack me later for this one)

-I swear to never 'let myself go' to the point where Ava says 'Daddy, why are you so fat?'

-I will do everything in my power to teach and constantly remind Ava that having an imagination and creative mind is one of the most beautiful and powerful things in this world.

-I will make sure to teach Ava how important and respectable the ability to laugh at yourself is. I'm guessing this lesson will come about the first time I make an ass out of myself in front of her.

-Five words: Public tantrums get you nothing.

This is all just a sampling. I could really go on and on, because new ones seem to pop into my head every day. One of the most exciting prospects of being a parent is getting a chance to teach. I may not be the most learned or knowledgeable person in the world, but I absolutely cannot wait to help guide my daughter and help her understand what is truly important in life, but also how to live it to the fullest and enjoy it as much as possible. As much as becoming a parent makes me feel old in a way, this feeling is completely countered by the anticipation to look at the world through youthful eyes again and go back to a time where so many things are new and being learned. All the little routines that I don't think twice about each day are going to become lessons and explanations for a little girl doing her best to understand the world that is happening around her.

So what will the next 29 days see?

-Final touches on the nursery. We are so close to the finish line on this one. A glider is on the way, laundry is complete, and we just have some decorative work to do. Ava, your room is almost ready!

-The start of weekly doctor's appointments. Another big indication that you are in the home stretch of pregnancy. I'm happy that I've been able to go to all of the doctor's appointments throughout the pregnancy. It's been a great chance for me and Amanda to learn about Ava's progression together. Any guys out there reading this, I suggest you do everything possible to attend as many of the doctor's appointments as you can.

-Babyproofing. We don't have a ton to do just yet, but we will be plugging up the outlets, getting rid of loose cords, and things of that nature. Ava won't be crawling right away, but she will be before we know it so we might as well be prepared now.

-Reading. This one is especially true in my case. Amanda has taken care of babies before with babysitting and nannying. I, on the other hand, have not, and anyone who is close to me knows that I do not like lacking knowledge in something. So, I have begun tearing through, and will continue to tear through, What To Expect the First Year. My mind is like a steel trap for baby information. Feeding...SNAP! Bathtime..SNAP! Public Baby Farts...SNAP!

-Getting hospital-ready. Installing car seat bases, making sure our hospital bag is packed with what we need, etc. I think we realized after last night that its better to be prepared early than be scrambling around trying to get everything together. If I hadn't quit the Boy Scouts, I would reference the 'Be Prepared' motto, but let's face it, Boy Scouts sucks.

That's all I have for now. Hopefully I get my ass into gear and this isn't the last post before Ava is born. But, even if it is, there's nothing to worry about because this blog will continue on FOR-EV-ER.

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