Archive for February, 2009


Footballternatives

The Big Game (R) is on tonight, and I’ve never been less motivated to watch it. I used to at least enjoy the commercials. Now, thanks to the magic/nightmare of the Internets, I can watch the good ones on YouTube tomorrow morning. Thus, I’ve got three or four hours of my life to do something more enjoyable.

This year, I’m going to make some fancy popcorn, and my wife and I are going to find a movie from Netflix watch on demand that we would like to see, but wouldn’t be horrified to fall asleep in the middle of.

Fancy popcorn is popped normally, but then instead of adding butter, I do all kinds of Secret Things to it. Which means I shake on about a teaspoon of olive oil, and some salt, garlic, cayenne pepper and rosemary. It’s delicious, and the oil spreads a lot more evenly than melted butter, so you don’t have that layer of soggy bits where the butter pours on.

What are YOU doing in lieu of watching the orgy of consumerism masquerading as sportsmanship Super Bowl? If you’re watching the game, that’s okay too. What are your plans?


I Wish I Was Surprised

When I saw the “breaking news” items on the story of the California woman who gave birth to a litter of octuplets with in vitro fertilization, I said it out loud. “She just wants to get on television.” I was immediately remonstrated by my Lovely Wife, who asserted that the mother had been very careful to keep her identity secret. She was, my Lovely Wife insisted, trying hard to protect her own privacy, and just wanted to be left alone to raise her private army family in peace.

Because I have the utmost respect for my Lovely Wife (who is smart and intuitive, as well as beautiful), I accepted her assessment of the situation without argument. I am, after all, a cranky, suspicious bastard, with a cynical streak that is visible from space. Quite often, my Lovely Wife’s perspective is more considered than my knee-jerk negativity. Inside, however, I was skeptical. (I was also hungry, as I recall, but I was mostly skeptical.)

It turns out, my knee-jerk negativity wasn’t so knee-jerky after all.

Nadya Suleman, the mother at the center of the controversy, is trying to raise two million dollars from media interviews in order to defray the cost of raising her brood, which includes six additional siblings already waiting at home. After she’s done making the talk-show rounds, Ms. Suleman is planning a career as a “television childcare expert.” Her qualifications include: 1. an undergraduate degree in child and adolescent development, 2. being so (in her mother’s words) “obsessed with children” that she sought an unusual fertility treatment despite having six children under the age of eight, and 3. being persuasive/persistent enough to obtain the treatment, despite the fact that it conflicts with every ethical guideline in reproductive medicine.

I’m not sure which is worse. If she’s genuinely got a psychiatric disorder, and this is the unfortunate result, or if she’s just a publicity hound who watched too many shows about parents of multiples, and saw a way to get her own series on TLC. But either way, choosing to raise 14 children as an unemployed single mother, and then exploiting those children in order to get yourself a television career, is deplorable.

I don’t like to second guess other people’s parenting decisions. You’ve got to be doing something really dangerous or absurd (see anti-vaccinationists) before I’ll jump up on the soapbox and tell you that you’re raising your kids wrong.  I’m going to go out on a limb and say that this isn’t quite as bad as undermining individual and group resistance to preventable diseases, but it’s still pretty awful.

The dilemma that arises is, what to do about it? Should these children be removed from their home, to the uncertainty of adoption or foster care? Should Ms. Suleman be left to her own devices, or be subjected to some sort of state monitoring? And what happens if she decides her small village current family is no longer cute enough, and she decides to have another half-dozen? Thoughts?


Who’s Your Daddy?

If your name is Emery Aurora, then the answer is “this guy.” My daughter was born via c-section at 2:52 pm on Saturday, February 7th. She weighed 8.5 pounds, and was 20.5 inches long. Both baby and Lovely Wife are resting comfortably. If you’d like to see some pictures, you’ll have to sign this release stating that you accept the consequences of brain-melting adorableness.

Apologies to those of you receiving a duplicate message from Livejournal, Facebook or Twitter. My networks overlap like mad.


The Details, As Promised

Lovely Wife was having contractions off and on all day on Friday, but they started getting rhythmic and regular around 5 pm. They stayed regular, and increased in intensity, so I rounded up our stuff and we went to the hospital just after Midnight.

As the contractions got more powerful, Lovely Wife started having severe back pain. We talked it over, consulted with our midwife, and decided on an epidural to knock down the worst of the pain. The epidural was administered around 3:30 am, and we were both able to get about four hours of (frequently interrupted) sleep.

Lovely Wife’s contractions continued apace, gradually getting more powerful and more frequent. Around Noon on Saturday, they reached the level of intensity that indicated it was pushing time.

I am convinced that my wife is a Cylon [Terminator, other fictional cyborg]. She pushed for two solid hours, with only a few moments of rest between contractions.

By 2 pm, it was apparent that the baby’s size and the orientation of her head were conspiring against us. The baby just wasn’t going to squeeze through Lovely Wife’s pelvis. I was not surprised, since I’m well aware that cyborg skeletons are made of titanium.

They prepped Lovely Wife for a Caesarean section, and at 2:52 pm, Emery Aurora was brought (very reluctantly) into the world. She weighed 8 1/2 pounds, and measured 20 1/2 inches, and was the most adorable, beautiful baby that has ever existed in the entirety of the multiverse.

Mom and baby were both exhausted, so Lovely Wife was taken to recovery, while Emery went to the nursery for her initial assessment and first bath.  I can report that she hated bathing, and she is almost supernaturally cute when she’s sleeping.

A few hours later, we were all reunited in a post-partum room. Lovely Wife held and fed the baby, and we began our new lives as sleep-deprived caregivers. Thanks to everybody for the good wishes. I assure you that I’ll be posting new pictures in short order.


Up To The Minute Updates

Because I’m sure you were wondering. Emery Aurora, Lovely Wife and I are finally at home in our little house. The dog is slightly freaked out by the wriggly little snack-sized person we’ve brought into the house, but he’s coping pretty well. The cats are feigning disinterest, but I occasionally catch them sneaking sideways glances, assessing the baby for a) warmth and b) potential snuggling.

I’m very proud and happy to be home with my little family. Everything seems to be going well. I should be back to posting more regularly after finals are over for the quarter. Thanks for your good wishes, and your patience.