An inspiring quote from a book I'm reading...

"Jesus came among us to show and teach the life for which we were made. He came very gently, opened access to the governance of God with him, and set afoot a conspiracy of freedom in truth among human beings. Having overcome death he remains among us. By relying on his word and presence we are enabled to reintegrate the little realm that makes up our life into the infinite rule of God. And that is the eternal kind of life. Caught up in his active rule, our deeds become an element in God's history. They are what God and we do together, making us part of his life and him part of ours." (from The Divine Conspiracy, by Dallas Willard)

2 MORE DAYS!!

...if the due date is correct, that is
but i think it will be just one more day
she's ripe as a plum, says the doctor
and that sounds just peachy

i am ready and steady, gonna catch that baby girl before she hits the ground,
cut that cord,
and take her home

and if we're lucky, there she'll stay till about age 18

3 cm dilated and 80% effaced and the doctor could feel the head- even asked if i wanted to take a feel

i told her i wasn't quite prepared to go reaching up there on the spur of the moment like that, but thank you for asking.

so she stripped Megan's membranes and sent us home with a belly dancing video for pregnancy

which couldn't be any more boring,
but the moves Megan learned may have caused the mucus plug to fall

(don't ask me what that is- you can look it up if you want)

i'm learning how steady and patient our little baby is- no rush to come, but rather nonchalantly progressing towards the birth canal

loving her little home in the womb,
but sensing there is something else out there,
something that she can barely yet perceive or imagine,
and the possibilities are exciting,
and somewhat frightening

like easing into a cool stream on a hot day
it's shocking at first,
but ultimately delightful

we can't wait to see you, little one
and share this life with you

...just as soon as you are good and ready, and not a moment sooner

home on the range

alas, vacation is over. Back to the "real world".. uh, i mean, back to something other than vacation.

it was a great little trip, full of fun and sun, family, friends, and lots of gifts for the yet unborn.

we went to Santa Cruz, Capitola, Half Moon Bay, Burlingame, San Francisco, Oakland, Tahoe, and Sacramento; and I shopped, ate out, swam at the lake, fished for crawdads, and helped rebuild a roof in Alta.

our car now is official soccer-mom status, complete with suction-cup window shades and a baby seat. the countdown has really begun. it's crunch time. it kind of feels like i'm cramming for a test or a deadline for a paper is coming up. suddenly, there are all these things that need to be ready, and in a hurry. why didn't anyone say we needed to do all this stuff?
pre-register at the hospital, choose a pediatrician, get insurance papers ready, tour the delivery room, take prenatal classes, and pack pillows, diapers, baby clothes, mommy clothes, daddy clothes, music, magazines, a "focal object", food, etc. etc.

i feel really uneducated about this whole process- the three stages of labor, timing contractions, when the water breaks, when to go to the hospital, what i'm supposed to do there. (am i the coach, the punching bag, the masseuse, the gopher, the photographer, or just a figurehead?)

but really, i think you can never fully know what you're supposed to do until it happens because there are so many scenarios, and it's all going to work out fine. by this time, i've heard about 100 different situations, from women laboring for days, to someone being fully dilated by the time they get to the hospital, it's all across the board

there are natural births, water births, home births, c-sections, epidurals, episiotomies, doulas, midwifes, birthing coaches, breach babies- it's just a huge blur to me.

and i'm sure our experience will be as unique and as typical as all the rest.

so, really, i'm brimming with anticipation and wonder when the day will be.

somewhere around sept. 23rd i will hold my little baby girl,

and my life will never be the same.

to all dentists or friends of dentists out there:

SORRY.

sorry that i sounded so darn nasty on my last entry. i think i was just reliving some childhood trauma that i had stuffed way down low and hoped i would never experience again. i was living in this dream world, telling myself that if i took care of my teeth and didn't eat too much sugar, in some miraculous way i would never need any more work done on my teeth.

but my fabulously constructed facade shattered all around me in the dentist's office, and i wanted to throw a temper tantrum. "but doctor, my wife has never had a cavity, it's just not FAIR. take it back. tell me my teeth look beautiful and i don't need anything done. in fact, tell me i should go eat some pixy stics just to give you something to clean."

why are my teeth so corroded? and why do i have to endure that stuff that i hate soo much? my mouth is like my temple. i don't like people probing and injecting and having funny flavors and sensations and tooth chips in there. it grosses me out. i can't even enjoy food for like DAYS. one of my favorite pleasures, taste. and it taints my taste buds and frankly, i feel violated. you can cut me open, stitch me up- heck, even beat me up. just don't mess with my mouth--PLEASE.

But alas, this is one of life's necessities, and i need to grin and bear it or my teeth will become very problematic.

So, I apologize for anyone who may have been a bit offended by that last rant-- heck, i was offended after i read it. and i promise to start writing kinder, gentler pieces. you know, the ones that make you say, "oooohhh. That's so SWEET!"

the dentist's office

It all came flooding back to me after ten years away from the dentist's office- like a nightmare. This is why i hate this place. a nurse strapping a bib on you like a baby and then jamming strange objects into your mouth until you gag, and then saying condescendingly, "you just have to breath deeply". then you sit there feebly, without any dignity left, while these hard disks are stuffed at strange angles into your mouth, and you follow the line of successive commands like a private first class: "Bite down!" "Chin up!" "Smile big.. BIGGER!" "Hold Still!" "Release!" Xray after Xray until she finally says, "Okay, I'll send those through and the dentist will be in to see you in a minute". (ya, right. a minute. why not give me a beeper and let me go out for a latte). Meanwhile you sit in that chair and look around the room at all those "inspirational" pictures of a tiger or an eagle with words like "courage" underneath them, followed by some silly definition of courage that's supposed to help you make it through the next hour of agony. Then, from the next room, the dentist's voice as she prepares to stick some strange instrument in a helpless woman's mouth, "I like to call dis one, 'meester bumber'. it's going to get a leetle bumpy." from the voice i'm picturing an east german olympic trainer, a middle-aged woman from the iron curtain with her hair in a tight bun. Moments later, some squeals of pain and then, "why did that hurt so much?"
"vell," Dr. Von Trap answers, "there are just many nerve cells around that area. now i'm going to put some chimicals on your tooth"

if i could help it, i would never have another human being put metal instruments, needles, suction thingees, objects they've given pet names to, or chemicals into my mouth, ever again. it is one of my least favorite things in the world. and you are sitting there so helplessly and unable to talk. you don't even have anywhere to look. there's just this annoying bright light, or the doctor's wide eyes, staring intently into your mouth. mostly, i like to look into the reflection of his glasses at what he's doing to my teeth. And the whole time he's so close to you, you can feel his breath on your face. and these guys usually have two left hands or something the way they have such little sensitivity when yanking on your tongue or scraping the nerves of your gums like chinese torturers. i can understand how male OBGYN's could be insensitive to the female anatomy, considering they don't have those same body parts. but unless they've totally anesthetized themselves with their own supply of novacaine, all dentists still have live nerve endings in their mouths. so you wonder why they use that drill like they're tearing up a New York city sidewalk with a jackhammer.

well, after an hour of staring at my own toe-nails, Dr. Von Trap finally enters, and turns out to be a MAN, with a very soft voice, and i'm too startled to ask the origin of his strange accent. (But i'm guessing romania- and if you're wondering, his name doesn't give it away- it's Wilson or something) after looking at my xrays, he starts prodding each tooth with a metal hook, noting all of my problem teeth to his nurse. "#5, #13, #2, #21..." the list seemed to go on and on. Plus, i have mild gingivitis, need two wisdom teeth pulled, and i've brushed away some of my gums. and, according to him, i chew on my cheecks and grind my teeth, both surprises to me. Maybe that's during the times when i turn green and rip my clothes off, avenging acts of brutality and injustice.

so the upshot is, i need to come in for at least four appointments to drill out my cavities, and another sometime down the road for my wisdom teeth to be pulled. i definitely didn't leave that office whistlin' "dixie". But at least i could've if i wanted to. after next visit, i won't even be able to whistle at all for a few hours. that's when the real fun starts.

"Say hello to meester thirsty..."

and i just wanted to get my teeth cleaned.

as numerous as the stars in the sky...

i've had many people say that i should have my moles checked out. usually i ignore their suggestion, because i have so many moles and almost all of them are "dangerous" looking. i think i would come out of the dermatologist looking like swiss cheese, so i figure, what's the point? But now that i'm married, i can't ignore my wife's plea to take care of myself. when she reminds me that she and the baby need me around for a while, my machismo attitude of, "i'll be fine" sort of melts away. i need to start being more responsible.
so I agreed to have her doctor take a look at me.
Megan's doctor saw a mole on her belly that gave him concern, so he sent her to a specialist. meanwhile, i'm thinking, that scary mole on Megan's about the size of my smallest mole. if they thought that little crumb was scary, wait till they see my tollhouse morsels.
Some people remark that they'd like to play connect the dots on my chest and see what picture comes up. i've got big ones, small ones, red ones, brown ones-even multicolored ones. mis-shapen ones, lumpy ones, you name it. even so, it was still a little disturbing to see a professional react with horror upon viewing my shirtless figure. "oh, now that's BAD," are not the words you really care to hear in a doctor's office. "I don't kow what we're gonna do"
So i'll have to go back so they can take cutout samples of several of my "worst" ones (i get to choose) and see what the lab results are. then i have to start "mapping" my moles, taking pictures of them and charting their growth. Maybe i could even give some of them names, and create constellations from patterns i see, just like the night sky.

Next up, my first trip to the dentist in about ten years. Sure hope he doesn't shriek when i open my mouth.

one for the gipper

why is that such a catchy phrase - "win one for the gipper"? i'm sure the "gipper" probably didn't win too many with a name like that, so his boys needed a lot of pep talks.

there's a lot in a name, actually.

i had friends with cool last names and nicknames growing up- Murph, Kuhar, Keely, Spence, etc. I think they come from our identities. when you have a strong identity, a character that is unique and well-liked, you get given catchy and likeable names.

like sports heroes- "the babe", "the rocket", "the mailman", "air jordan"

or if you're really respected, you get all three of your names used when spoken of:
Martin Luther King, Franklin Delanore Roosevelt, William Randolph Hearst

or they might just use one name, like Ghandi, or Madonna, or Gilligan

in any event, i'm thinking of all this because pretty soon i will get to co-labor in the naming of a human being. and that's pretty exciting. it's not like adam, where he got to name every creature, but it still is fun. and i think we've selected a really beautiful name, although it does not officially belong to her yet.

i don't know what nicknames will stem from it, whether it will rhyme well with silly words for her grade-school friends to tease her with...

but i do know that it's beautiful and graceful and fits her to a tee... and nothing at all like "Gipper"