Baby Shape

Drinking for two is hard work. Especially around the holidays. As soon as 2008 arrives, the klam plans on adhering to a strict regimen of juice salad and wheatabix, lest we get bloaty.

In the meantime, we're carbing up for new years.

Mama's belly and my belly are roughly equal in size at this juncture. I tell folks I'm "pregnant with joy". This means I don't have to button my pants so long as I stay indoors. Though the American Apparel catalog just arrived, so we'll look to put in place counter measures immediately. As in sweat pants. If you monogram them, they aren't as tacky.


Merry Xmas everyone. We're firing this thing up New Year's - late night. Brace yourselves for a real Martinelli.

The Blue Beaver

I take pretty decent pictures typically. Some less decent than others, but on average, fridge quality results.

However, my muse - the lady Beaver - is convinced that the snaps I take of her are reliably unflattering and generally, not for circulation. Whereas I encourage my subjects to ham it up, and promote the "crazy" shot, Beav is a "make me look good" kind of subject. This isn't a difficult brief, she's preposterously photogenic, but for whatever reason, I seem to catch her with her 40% of both eyes shut and fish mouth in effect. Of course I think these are winners, but the goal is to make the lady happy, and this means we burn a lot of film.

Redoubled the efforts, and finally hit paydirt. Here she is pre-NC Society ball, radiant with legit golden tresses.

I've requested a one piece pant suit made from this same fabric, hopefully Santa got the message.

If you look closely, baby bump.

And if you look really closely, on the table in the back there is the Gus Jennings Memorial plant - still with us. Grandpa would be pretty juiced by all this hub bub.

Goodnight,

A

The Chooch

Hello from mission headquarters.

Beav's tiny hint of a belly has inspired me to apply myself and spend a few minutes each week musing on the subject of my pending fatherdom. Given mass dissemination of particulars is much easier than person-to-person outreach, I've acquiesced. I can never keep up with who knows what yet, perhaps this will even the quality of content.

Welcome to the klambake. We're cooking up a little chooch, 14 weeks and counting.

Terrifying prospect, real responsibility. Good thing I watch Friday Night Lights, where I learned about the "pump and dump". Quality stuff.

Here's the ultrasound from week 12. You can clearly see a lit cigar and vampire cuspids. It appears the little beanser is also flashing gang signs. I'm convinced it's a he, but the scientists tell me the anatomy scan happens late January. Taking bets if you want to get in on the action. Wish I could tell you how to reply to a post, but this blog business is terribly new to me.

Truth be told, we couldn't be more excited, more blessed, or simply thrilled to be parents. Plus, we managed to sneak in an entry before our siblings could, which means at least a year or so of getting to sit near the head of the table at family gatherings.

More to follow. Sitting on a trove of *hot mom* pics that I need to get permission to post, and plans afoot to notarize my sympathetic symptoms. Gads.

XO

Austin