A horse a horse

I’m going to be a father. No matter how many times I say that, there’s still a part of me that believes this is just a dream. However unlike my other dreams, which tend to revolve around Adriana Lima, a rustic farmhouse, and a distressed leather saddle, this dream means both joy and responsiblity. Yeats (quoted by fellow bards Haruki Marukami and U2) puts it nicely: "In dreams begins responsibility." I thrill to all aspects of this experience–watching the baby’s heart beating on the ultrasound monitor, test-driving strollers, musing about names–and also see things through the anxious eyes of the first-time parent. Yep, I’m a nervous Nellie.

With the added stress, though, comes a nice little ego boost. Lots of fun new verbs, nouns, and constructions. My progeny. Fruit of my loins. Litter. Offspring. Chip off the old block. Kid. Son. Daughter. Me. I did that. And I’m quite proud of myself. While I’ve been preening, poor K has been dealing with the less glamorous effects of the pregnancy. First trimester is over in a few weeks. Hopefully, things will settle down and she’ll take back her blood oath to take revenge on the "damned, dirty idiot who did this to me."

We have christened the baby BOB for now, short for "Baby on board." Ain’t we clever? We’ve chosen to use male pronouns to refer to BOB, but this does not reflect any knowledge of BOB’s sex or whether we want a boy or a girl–sometimes pronouns are just pronouns. BOB is a mere 10 weeks old, but has already: traveled to four states, played in the pit of a Broadway show, and attended two Broadway shows. Shortly, he’ll visit his fifth state, take his first plane trip, and dance at his first wedding (he has not yet decided whether he’ll be doing a backspin).

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 9th, 2006 at 8:56 pm and is filed under BOB. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.