11 August 2010

My new hero

One thing I absolutely love about the Internet is when it delivers pure liquid gold.

Like this video, for instance:

The woman in orange is my new hero. The banner she is standing next to says "Worst Governor Ever." I have a minor complaint: it should say "Worst Half-governer Ever."

What the hell is Sarah Palin wearing on her feet? Are those Caribou Barbie boots? And clearly, Bristol has been working on her sign language, given her use of international symbols when she defends her Grizzly Mama as "defending United States."

24 carat!

07 August 2010

Six months later...

So I took half a year off. And now the layout of this blog is blue.

Speaking of blue, there's about to be another boy in our house. Come Wednesday the size of our clan is doubling. Circumstances beyond our control means our son will be "plucked" instead of going through a natural childbirth, so we know exactly when he's going to be born.

The idea of having two kids? Surreal. More than surreal. It was surreal thinking about having a child when we were waiting for the arrival of our first, a little more than thirty months ago. Thinking about having another is almost beyond the realm of my comprehension.

I may not sound thrilled. I assure you that I am.

We feel like we are ready for this, since we've been through the newborn experience before. The difference this time is that we
know that we aren't going to sleep. The first time, we had no idea how much sleep we would lose with a newborn in the house. It was a lot. Being sleep deprived soon became as normal as breathing and eating, though I will forever be surprised by just how much my intelligence waned during that period. About a month after Desmond was born, if you had asked me how much two plus two was, I would have said fifty-six.

Two kids. When I was a kid, a family with two kids was small. Now it seems huge. I look at our house and deem it too small. I wonder if I will ever have a day when I don't trip over a toy or a laundry basket. How old will I be when I no longer hear the Thomas the Train jingle over and over and over and over...

We aren't going to name this child until we see him. I had the name of my first son picked out ten years before I ever met my wife, so I let her choose names this time, with the caveat that I wouldn't support a name that I really, really disliked. And there were a few of them.

I'm thinking "Rabo", which would only make sense if you've read Kurt Vonnegut.

I do plan on visiting these parts a little more often than I have so far this year.