1350 miles, 10 states, 0 tickets

This is our new machine, pretty rad. I flew down solo to Plant City, FLA, on Saturday to pick her up. Oddly, we used to have this same car back in Lewisville NC. She's a tank, but drives like a dream. Notice the tinted windows. Interior is somewhere between orange and orange, cloaked as burgundy.

Anyways, made it to Charleston night one. Rolled in at 9PM, pork chops at the ready. Hunter's place is gorgeous. Moments later, we were partying on a porch:


That's TK, eating a Lee Bros. roasted oyster. Whole gang in the house, real good times, Low Country style.

This was our host, Will. He's practically the mayor of the place.


HK almost looks as good as his house. I miss Mr. Kennedy terribly. I split on Sunday, and powered on to DC to see my friends Ron and Jess. Hilariously, Jess gave birth pretty much that morning. So, I arrived just in time to meet the one day old. Lily Day. She's gorgeous. And reminds mom of the Pope. She was all business:



I can't get over how big they are when they arrive. I got to hold her too.

Wow. Note how happy she is, and how oily I am. Really amazing opportunity. Pretty amazing trip.

Made it home this afternoon. I think my lady missed me. She looks great, pics coming, promise.

Grand Peoples Part One

I love this picture. Cannot wait to join the red vest club. Having in-laws that party is a must. You can't really party like this in New York, which is why hitting the grandparents HQ after delivery is going to be critical: naps and joyrides. And in the case of my folks, mountain hoofing and grapefuit squeezing. Can't wait to hit the booty trail with the Baby Bjorn.

Lots of visits on the horizon, we have my folks coming end of the month for Easter / packing, and then the Beavers arrive in early April for unpacking. I keep losing a month in my calculations, which is troubling. The only thing I've been able to numerically manage is the number of Saturdays between now and June 15th - been logging, on average, 13 hour stints comatose in preparation.

Flying to FLA to rendezvous with Mrs. Beaver on Saturday. New wheels being picked up. Pumped to be a trunk owner again. Last time I spent 22 hours behind the wheel, I was aramadillo spotting for Bostic. That ended with me sleeping through the state of Wyoming. Thank heavens for trucker speed and Bill Hicks.

Somebody gave up their train seat to Beav the other day, might be a first. Lady claimed she didn't look pregnant in the face, hence the delayed offer. These are good things, both.

The Mullygrubs

Been pretty slammed at work of late, hence the absence of new content. Ready for a steam blowing, the above kind of sums up my weekend plans, need to bat for the full cycle. No time for picture taking either, but promise to capture the Beav with her nose strip on for you guys over the weekend. Funny how the tables have turned.

I have , however, been learning to play bridge with the dudes. It's kind of like filling out your taxes for the first time with a permanent marker, by yourself, hopped up on cold meds, the night before they're due to the guv'ner. No room for error, kind of mathy, and with great potential for audit when all's said and done. Involves card counting, always easy on beer #9. Super good times though.

We also signed our new lease, move end of next month. We have stuff. Tons of it. Manifest involves such notables as:

56 banged up AD&D dungeon modules and play manuals
10 pounds of Hatch chili powders
76 SK wedding paintings of the Beaver family stead, front and back
8 gallon pickling jar w/lid
100 cubic feet of cooler space
1/2 monogrammed Union Suit
7 dozen potholders
6 packages of Hunter Bacon by three chimneys

Total eBay value: $0

Thinking we may cull the potholder collection this weekend.

Ode to the Klambaker

Normally I wouldn't have posted this poem
I'd have been too mortified;
But your pending fatherhood and your blogging
have made me put aside my pride...

We decided it was time for the NYC McKennas
to become more than just two;
And next thing you know I’m peeing on a stick
and waking you up with big news.

Then the worry and stress and nausea begin,
not to mention expanding waistlines;
And we realize the life we have known these few years
is something we’re leaving behind.

So here we are at 23 weeks-
that’s almost 6 months along;
We know she’s a she and what her name will be—
unless those 2 technicians were wrong.

Chooch “Thumper” McKenna is coming in June,
and I don’t think that we have a clue;
But I still can’t wait to kiss her face,
and I can’t wait to see her with you.

You’ll make her rock mixes and play tunes on your guitars
(electric, acoustic and air);
You’ll take her for walks in the Baby Bjorn,
enjoying all the ladies’ stares.

You’ll learn to function without much sleep
and may even cut down on the beers;
And you’ll figure out how to calm her down
when its nothing but screaming and tears.

You’ll become a pro at the diaper change,
the late-night feeding, the bath;
You’ll learn when to take her off my hands
and when to stay clear of my path.

I imagine she’ll have you totally whipped
within just a few days if not hours;
Unlike her mom, for whom it took years
and all of my feminine powers.

But at least I've got the rhyming skills
for our Valentines day tradition
My guess is that posting it on the site
was not part of your vision.

But for all the shit you give me lately
about my creative maternity outfits
You deserve to get some too
for how often you check your blog hits.

Mostly though, I can't complain
you've been pretty much a doll
The emotions, the hunger, the heartburn
You've had to put up with it all.

In just a few months we'll celebrate
and I can finally drink some real wine;
But tonight you'll cook a meal for me
and be my valentine.

I'll fall asleep embarassingly early
after watching Friday Night Lights
Later you'll come to bed and we'll both sleep easy,
thanks to our trusty Breathe-Rights.

In conclusion, all that I wanted to say
to you on this occasion:
With you as her dad, our daughter will be
the luckiest little girl in Brooklyn.

xoxox

Baby goes to 11

Everything I've read from my extensive library of parenting journals suggests our baby benefits from a powerful cocktail of tube screamers and double kick drum. Mom doesn't go for the weak shit either, so family is in harmony. Though we do like that Umbrella song.

Breakfast on brief this morning:

• Boss Kitty - Oxxxes
  
• Mouthbreather / Dancing Naked Ladies - Jesus Lizard
  
• FBLA - Helmet
  
• Lament for the Aurochs - The Sword
  
• 4 Day weekend - Bandway
  
• Our Work Fills the Pews - Hot Snakes
  
• Mac's Oranges - Breadwinner
  
• Circle of Sysquatch - Mastodon
  
• Sailin' On - Bad Brains
  
• Godzilla - B.O.C.
  

And a little Teddy P. to wash down the BPMs.

Finally, dad makes contact with little lady

One thump for hello, two thumps for a rolaid... Dad FINALLY felt these "kicks". Our little namesake has been very active of late, powerfully so.

Figure it has something to do with the magic markers, matchbox cars, flashcards and ju ju beans I've been encouraging Beav to swallow so our little girl has both company and stimulus.

She double thumped when she clearly overheard me talking about "flat screen tvs and a hot dog dinner". That's two votes Beav!

Baby bump starting to turn heads. Good for getting seats on crowded trains, not so good for the pants budget. Mom looks smashing these days though. We're researching strollers. More complicated than a conversation with a mortgage broker. As long as I can put blue flames and a pirate flag on the sidecar, I'm staying out of the purchase decision.

Closing on six months. Three months of soggy / foggy Saturdays to go.

Ballot Result

Very pleased to report, the 7th Annual Brooklyn Chili Battle was one for the ages, as these things casually go.

Winner Brett P. (dear wife and co-engineer Henny not pictured) to my left. Congratulations Tuz, rare that we see this kind of intensity from camp HBS! The ladies love a yard bird in their stew pots. Well done, welcome to the league of champions.

Data unconfirmed, but I counted a dozen or so little people in attendance last night. Child rearing no joke my friends. And I'm high maintenance. Seven years ago, I was totally the biggest baby in the house. Tough to cede that particular title.

10? Chilis entered, keg dominated, booby prizes courtesy of the Buster Black. Beav reports chooch was digging hard on the chili in the green pot, rooked, again.

Our sympathies extended to HH, who yet again, lost a heart breaker. Hang in there chief, I'd eat that chili from my pockets if the opportunity presented itself. It's a closer.

Sad that this will be the last blow-out at 179. Forgot to launch the keg into the neighboring apt.