Nausea

Karin is feeling terrible this morning. We are in Montreal and she had planned on going up north but that may not happen. She's in bad shape. Estrella, on the other hand, thinks it's wonderful (the whole package).

When we arrived in Montreal last night, Estrella greeted us with honey and milk. Each of us had a spoonfull of honey and then washed it down with milk. I have to get the full story but it must symbolize fertility, productivity and such things.

The Things People Say (and my subsequent thoughts)

There are a few things that people have said to me since the incepction of our conception. Here are a couple:

"It's early to tell people."

My understanding of the "wait to tell" theory of pregnancy is that, in case something goes wrong, you won't have to then tell everyone you know of the unfortunate event.

This may not be true for everyone but my untested opinion is tell all and tell early. When we told our parents, they were delirious with happiness. Every extra day of anticipation is an extra day of excitement for them. Why should we deprive them of that? Plus we won't ever have to answer the "When are you guys going to have kids already?" question again.

"Are you excited?"

Well, maybe I should answer this question delicately... Excitement isn't really the correct term for what I'm feeling. I'm certainly looking forward to going flying with my offspring... but that probably isn't going to be for about a decade. So... if you can count looking forward to flying with my progeny, then yes, I'm terribly excited.

On the other hand, the little guy (or gal) is probably going to cut into my flying budget in the short term. And I'm probably not going to be sleeping straight through until my requisite 5:00 AM wake-up time. And crying has never really been attractive to me. And diaper changing... well, let's just say that there are a few things that I'm trepidatious about.

So, am I excited? Yes. I'm excited. Of course I'm excited (to be read as Austin Powers says "Mole? What mole? I don't see any mole.")!

THANK YOU!

Wow! We have been inundated with congratulations and mazal tov and warm wishes and love. I think my dad almost had a heart attack when we told him. He was literally speechless (if you know my dad you know just how unbelievable that is). Thank you for the calls and emails and more.

I think Eric's email (posted right) pretty much sums up what we've been hearing. The wall-climbing reference probably warrants some explanation...

Back when Eric and I were at SAIS our class went on a trip to southern Italy. We had all been on the island of Capri. Somehow Eric and I arrived late for the return trip to Naples. We made our way back to the mainland and, thinking that we had missed the bus to our next destination, each hopped on the back of Vespas and weaved our way through Naples traffic to the restaurant where we were to dine. It was a really fun ride. When we arrived at the restaurant, the rest of our class was nowhere to be seen.

Eventually the bus did turn up. They had been waiting for us somewhere. They didn't know we had hopped on Vespas. They were not happy. We were suddenly not very popular. But at least we had each other to commiserate with... that is, until Eric suddenly turned into a super-hero.

There was a retaining wall near the restaurant. I can't remember how high it was - maybe 6 or 7 feet. A few of our classmates tried climbing it but it was shear and there was really no way to get up. Then along came break-dancing Eric. He surveyed the scene, focused on the obstacle, took a running leap and, inexplicably, ended up on top. The class was riveted. They instantly forgot that Eric had wasted their last 4 hours. I never made it up that wall.

Eric has spent the last 9 years reminding me of that day.

xoxo

Karin and I were tiring of not being able to take advantage of all the great deals on diapers that show up on Fatwallet. We were tiring of missing out on all of the IRS advantages bestowed upon parents. And, most importantly, the longer we wait, the longer our offspring will go without accumulating frequent flyer miles. Now that is just not fair of us.

So, after much deliberation, we decided to have a child. We did significant research into how this is done. The primary requirement is sexual relations. Remarkably, that only has to be done once. However, experts are now unanimous in recommending additional attempts... due to some timing issue that is too technical to discuss here. We researched "sex" and found that we have all the necessary qualifications. And so we "did it".

And that wasn't the only sacrifice we made. Karin stopped her periodic Frangelico nightcaps, for example. She also started taking huge, disgusting horse-pills that are marketed to humans as "prenatal vitamins".

Apparently our hard work, discipline, and ultra-modern 21st century methodology has paid off. As of Friday, Karin is, as Frau Farbissina says, late. This means that at least one of my guys is now spending serious time with one of her gals. If all goes according to plan, they will spend the next 255, or so, days producing what leading contemporary medical practitioners refer to as new life. Karin and I, by virtue of our stellar qualifications, will then be fully responsible for everything about this new life. According to my research, it is also customary for people in our position to take credit for every success that he or she ultimately achieves.

I'll admit that my understanding of children is limited. My sources tell me that when they are born they know absolutely nothing. I mean they can't tell time, they can't tie shoelaces, they can't even count to one! Now that is n-o-t-h-i-n-g. Then, we send them to school, spend copious amounts of money on them, and eventually they decide that we are the idiots and more or less cut off all meaningful communication with us.

I know. I know... there is more to it than that... there is the constant diaper-changing, the apologizing to everyone within 3 rows on airplanes, the funny pee-at-inopportune-moment pictures, and so much more. But it's all a labor of love and I assume that I too will want to share with everyone I see those most intimate details of daily living that all but the most psychotic of humans eventually choose to keep to themselves.

I am a procreator.