The Final Countdown

We now have a date. Sort of.

Juice and I went to the doctor's office together last Friday, sans Peanut. My parents had come to town for her birthday, so they watched her for us while we ran our errands for the day.

At the end of the doctor's appointment, Juice asked him to nail down a date for the c-section, since we were trying to help my parents plan when they were going to come back down from the midwest.

We hemmed and hawed a bit, and Juice really wanted it to be the week of July 20, but the doc was going to be out of town the first part of that week, and the latter part of that week would be too close to her 40th week, so we had to go the week before.

Originally, the doctor asked about the 16th, but I am planning to work through July 16. We asked about the 17th and he said that looked good for him.

So we settled on the 17th, and as we were checking out, I heard one of the nurse's on the phone saying my wife's name and booking an O.R. for the 16th. When I turned around, I saw a big yellow note on her chart that said July 16.

He'd written it down wrong.

Since he was already in with another patient, we couldn't get him to confirm, and the nurse was adamant that she had to go with what was written down.

So the little chunk will be born on July 16. Or 17.

We also got a chance to see her on Friday, as we had a 3D sonogram. Chubby little cheeks, this one has. But the same nose as Peanut.


I can't wait to meet her.

Tres

Three years ago today, my baby girl entered this world. It's been one heck of a journey, and I can't wait to see our newest addition, who is due in about 6 weeks. I know I haven't written a lot on this blog about my child, because I do a lot of that on the blog I share with family, but becoming a father has been the most wonderful thing that's ever happened in my life.

It's a hard job at times, but the rewards are never-ending. Hearing Peanut yell, "DADDY!" when I walk through the door at the end of the day makes my heart melt. When she comes up and hugs me for no reason and all, and tells me, "I love you, Daddy," it makes my day.

I don't know how I'll find room in my heart to love another child as much as I love Peanut, but I hear from parents all the time that it just grows to make room.

One of my co-workers had her baby yesterday. She was very excited for her little girl to come, but as it turned out, even with all of science and technology we have, they got it wrong. She had a little boy. I told Juice last night that we'd better have a boy's name is reserve.

We've only had one sonogram because that's what they do when the pregnancy is progressing normally, but Juice and I are going to get a "4-D" sonogram on Friday. That's the one where you can see, in great detail, the features of your unborn child. We still have the pictures from Peanut's 4D hanging in her room. One of the things they do during this sonogram is confirm the sex. I hope they can see it clearly.

Three years. Holy crap.

A week later...

What...you didn't believe me that it looks like we beat her?

But in all seriousness, before you call the authorities on us, that big bump in the middle is what's causing the black eyes. The bruise is following gravity and pooling in the lowest spot it can get to.

Peanut is doing just fine, though. She's jumping, running, and playing just like she always had. There aren't any ill effects from the fall other than the bump and bruises.

In other news, we had Peanut's third birthday party today. It wasn't much of a party...just our closest friends and Juice's family. And not even all of them showed up. How shitty of a family member do you have to be to not show up to a relative's birthday party?

Peanut still had a great time, and if you ask me, a dozen or so people, mostly adults, is a way better party than having a house full of kids and trying to keep everything somewhat clean.

I still can't believe it's been 3 years since she was born, and almost 4 since Juice and I got married.

It all goes by too fast.

Shiner

Unfortunately, not the good kind.

Peanut had a tumble at the end of last week, at the sitter's house. She emailed me pictures at work, and it looked like my child had a silly putty egg growing out of her forehead.

This child has my coordination, which is to say she has none. She trips and falls all the time. She's had more scrapes and cuts and bruises in her 3 short years than most people have had in a lifetime. Luckily, she hasn't broken any bones...yet.

It's bad enough when she falls and hurts herself like that, but with this last spill, the effects have lasted into this week. The bruise is turning these wonderful shades of purple and black, and it's also stared to drain out of her forehead and pool in her eye sockets and cheeks, giving her this wonderful "I'm a brawler" look. OK...it looks like we beat the living shit out of her.

Juice took her to the grocery store with her yesterday, and she said she got some pretty hard stares from people.

I just hope our next one is a little more careful.