Opinions at the Bottom of the Year

[December 31, 2009]

Well, it's official. It's a boy. How do I know this with such certainty at such an early date in the pregnancy, you ask? Why, from Carey's superstitious mother's side of the family of course. We just got back from the holiday octo-athalon - eight family/friend party/get-togethers in five days. At party no. 5 the speculations were flying. Buzzed on a white Russian I complied to the threaded needle test. I didn't even know what was going on. Carey's aunt ordered me to show my palm. Then she wagged a threaded needle three times back and forth into my thumb pit. Then she held it over my palm to watch whether it would swing back and forth or in a circle. It went back and forth and therefore, she proclaimed with utmost certainty, a boy. Carey's mom confirmed this by noting that if it was a girl it would have stolen Carey's beauty (which it hasn't, was the point). I get that there's a compliment in there, but come on! Throughout the parties I received lots of congratulations. For the new house, for graduating with my Masters of Library and Information Science degree and most often for the baby.

Started reading The Hobbit to the baby last night. Monday will be 12 weeks and we'll have made it over the first trimester. The real dangerous period will be in the 20 weeks range, or so they tell us.

Carey's really starting to fill out. Her breasts are expanding at an alarming rate. Big and full. She has a slight bump in her lower tummy. I know these things not from personal exploration of the sexy kind, but because she examines herself everyday in the mirror and makes me look and occasionally cop a feel. The other day when we got back from our Christmas in Connecticut trip I took my pants and boxers off to put in the washer. Standing there in nothing but my t shirt and black socks I approached her. "What do you think of this?" She gave a pitiful look and said, "Awww. It looks sad." I corrected her and explained the word was not sad but neglected. She didn't take the hint so I put some clean clothes on instead. Just this morning I offhandedly suggested she give me the oral pleasure (not in those words) and she said, "Okay probably later."Yes! This was the first time in six years when we visited her family where we didn't do it (or anything like it) even one time. But the good news is that she really is for sure this time having less morning sickness. Even last night she grilled meat without gagging or freaking out too bad about the smell. The night before that she even made us mac 'n cheese. She seriously hasn't cooked in like two months. It's good to have her back. I'm such a lousy cook.

Here we are at the bottom of the year. And it certainly feels like it. Like the way Sunday evenings feel at the end of the week when you are just plain worn out. I woke up bored this morning with little desire to do anything. I forced myself to write this entry inspired by Adrian Mole's dedication to writing in his journal just about everyday. This should be a really big year for us. For both Carey and my profession (I would get a job as a librarian, she would expand hers by hiring employees) for the band's next album and of course for having a baby in July. 2010 coming right up!