• Time again

    Midnight is a good time for sleeping. It is a good time for the lights to be out and everyone to be tucked securely into a snug cocoon of warmth, the mind occupying itself only with the business of oblivion.

    Of course, that was not to be my lot in life on this night.

    Cheryl and I had been home from the hospital for all of twelve hours, and I had been asleep for a fraction of that, when Cheryl decided she could hold out no longer. “Back into the breech, my dear husband!” So it was that we found ourselves repeating the events of the night prior. By coincidence, the hospital assigned us to the same room, thereby completing my sense of deja vu all over again.

    Two key differences separated last night’s experience: we had packed Cheryl’s stuff ahead of time, and I remembered to bring my trusty PowerBook. This morning, as we await Adam or Sarah’s first appearance in this world, we are enjoying epidurals and portable computing.

  • Reality bites back

    Realizing you have done more before 6 a.m. than you usually do all day is a sobering thought. Army recruiting adds not withstanding, it kind of makes me want to go out and fix the sobriety problem. Ah, but I’m a stimulant kind of guy. What use would I have for America’s Favorite Depressant?

    Earlier this morning,

    It was a mere five hours after I laid my head down to sleep when I had the urge to pee. I went into the bathroom and turned on the lights. What I saw there was troubling, blood.

    “Cheryl, are you awake?”

    “Huh?”

    “Cheryl, are you awake?”

    “Yeah.”

    “Are you bleeding?”

    “WHAT?”

    Just like that we were off to the hospital. Cheryl got checked in, Cheryl’s mom arrived to bring Beth back home, and Super Dad sat down with his trusty clipboard and filled out forms for insurance purposes. After the clock shed several hours, and my body shed several degrees of core body temperature, we returned home with a mother and a (still unborn) child with a newly certified clean bill of health.

    Now if dad could just find a few spare hours to make up some sleep we’d be back in business. Ah, but this adventure is just beginning and the brochure doesn’t say anything about sleep.

  • Advanced driving techniques

    Good afternoon boys and girls, my name is Mr. Kauffman and I’ll be your instructor in Advanced Driving Techniques. We’re going to jump right in this afternoon, but first I wanted to start you off with a little primer.

    The most important, least understood, and most rewarding concept in advanced driving techniques is watching where you are going. That’s right – I’m talking about pointing the little windows to your soul in the direction of travel. Sound simple? You’d be surprised. I’ve seen a lot of things in my seventeen years of advanced driving, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that being a watchful driver is a lonely experience. Slowly pulling out of a parking space, watching another driver pull out across from you without looking (after you are already half way out), stopping short to give the nincompoop plenty of room, and seeing that driver come within a hair’s breath of delivering you unto insurance purgatory before looking up with shock and blowing their horn AT YOU, is just one of the many trials awaiting you in the asphalt jungle. Even Job would be tempted to throw a little rage around, yet you are going to be expected to turn the other cheek. Still think it will be easy? Call me when you pop your first blood vessel and we’ll talk.