I apologize for the mass emailing/cross-posting/blog-clogging content of this message, but because I felt it needed to get posted and sent out in a timely manner, this information is being uploaded at various places simultaneously.
Some of you have already gotten a call from me or Ashley about this. Some of you may, in fact, need to read this at several places in order for the reality of it all to sink in.
The news is this: basically – sometime between now and mid-March, I will need to learn how to change diapers.
(Wait for it…let it sink in…and suddenly, all across the country eyes begin widen…sharp intakes of breath begin to occur…jaws start to drop from sea to shining sea…and…the screams commence…)
Yes. Ashley is pregnant, and we are expecting the arrival of the little pooper sometime in March. Mid-to-late March, depending. We wanted to wait until we were past week 12 (or 13) before we let EVERYONE know in order to make sure that it was much more – well – not really “safer,” but more sure that the pregnancy might come to full term. And you have NO clue how hard it’s been to not just tell people, or to try and not confirm the suspicions of SOME people (who, if they will think about it – I never outright stated that Ashley was NOT pregnant; I just did everything I could to try and convince them they were crazy for thinking so).
Now. Before anyone asks: (1) no, we don’t know the sex yet; we just past the first trimester mark, and for those of you who either have your own bundle of liability or have a friend who’s had one, you know that we won’t know the sex for several more weeks. Patience. We will post when we know; (2) was this planned? Well…sorta. I’m going to avoid the crass statement that could easily follow this question (we’re married; do the math), but in a way the answer is “yes” in that we had promised one another that we wouldn’t even mention the word “baby” for one solid year after we got married. Having passed that milestone back in May, we decided to enter into negotiations about having a kid. But the answer to the “was this planned” question is also “no” in that while it was planned, the timetable of the plan has happened a LOT faster than either of us expected; (3) no, if it’s a male, “Sonny, Jr.” will not be the name given it. I’ve lived under that private torment for a lifetime now. I shan’t pass the burden to my offspring; (4) no, the nursery will not be coffee, comic book, Lord of the Rings, Dr. Who, MST3K, Lost, 24, Star Trek, Star Wars, Buffy, Angel, or Firefly themed. It will, in fact, be all of the above (just kidding); and (5) yes. We are insanely excited and simultaneously frightened to death.
So. There ya have it. I’m gonna be a daddy. BIOLOGICAL this time, and not just to four-legged critters and/or various and sundry teenagers I work with (hi, 706), students (THAT THING @ 8), or other constituents.
Thankfully, I have had – oh – about fifteen years of experience working with high school and college students. Not that this easily or readily translates to teaching a wobbly little infant to walk or to not set daddy’s comic books on fire, but for those of you who have had the benefit (*snicker*) of being under my tutelage as a mentor, guide, and/or proxy big brother or father figure…thank you for helping to teach me how to love unconditionally. Ashley is teaching me how to love fully and without restrictions. While I worry about me and my ability to raise a kid, I at least know that I have a good foundation.
Now. Discuss amongst yourselves the ramifications of me having a kid. Feel free to drink if needed. :)
(NOTE: this has been cross posted at my blog (http://chase-the-kangaroo.blogspot.com), MySpace, Facebook, the IMN, the THS Alum page, and at Comic Bloc. Just so you know you’re not going crazy if you see it in multiple locations.)