Thursday, March 30, 2006

Daylight Savings Time begins this Sunday, April 2. If you're going to remind anyone, however, be sure to do it before April 1, since if you tell them that day, they will be less likely to believe you.
So we're at the end of the first week since the Bug arrived and things seem to be coming along swimmingly. Yes, that's right -- I said "swimmingly." That's the way I talk. Our language is blessed with countless synonyms, so it seems like a waste to not use as many of them as possible.

But I digress, or in other words, I've strayed off the point. The point is that the Bug seems like a good candidate for the title of Easy Baby. She eats well, burps well and when properly swaddled into a baby burrito (or Babyrito™), sleeps well. I've heard second babies (yes, this is my third, but it's been thirteen years since Young Master Fugate was a baby) tend to be easier. I suppose it's because the parents are more relaxed and pragmatic about the whole thing.

It's not until you're chasing a toddler around that you realize just how low-maintenance a newborn actually can be. You rarely have to struggle to get them to eat. They sleep 20 hours a day (just not quite as many in a row as you might like). They stay where you put them. And, they're extremely light and portable. Hell, they fit into just about anything.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Last week, the Peanut and I made a snowman. He lingers to this day, but the outlook is not good. I'm not going to pull the plug on him or anything. I'm just going to let nature take it's course. Ah, the great circle of life.

Friday, March 24, 2006

The last three contestants on Deal or No Deal went away with small amounts of money. I'm just saying, the show really is addictive, but like most addictive things, it's ultimately unsatisfying. I've just watched the show two nights in a row and my brain already feels like one of the "after" pictures of those crystal meth people.

***

Incidentally, as I was looking for a link to those "before and after" pictures of the meth users, I looked first where I thought I saw them first -- The Smoking Gun. Here were my search results:


You may not be able to see it, but this was in the lower right-hand corner:


I clicked on the link, but the hospital's filter wouldn't let the site go through. Not because it was about crystal meth, but because it was eBay.
As it turns out, the epidemic of sleep deprivation is a myth perpetuated by the pharmaceutical industry to sell sleeping pills like Ambien, and too much sleep is actually better for you.

I think it's truly, truly sad that I'm not shocked by this. Aren't these people in the business of helping us?

Oh, wait. I just used the words "business" and "helping" in the same sentence. What was I thinking?
Staying at a hospital is like staying at an incredibly cheap motel that charges you hundreds of dollars a night. The blankets are thin and threadbare, the sheets are scratchy, the soap for your shower comes out of a pump, everything is in half-portions, and while you do have cable, the channels only go in one direction.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

We have baby! 6 lbs 2 oz, which is about a pound heavier than expected. Mom and baby are doing great.

All right -- I'm going to bend my "no pictures of the kids" rule this one time, but only because in two days, she's going to look completely different. I'm not putting her name on here though -- for now, let's call her the Bug.

About 90 minutes ago, my wife grabbed my hand as the contraction hit her. This one was different. Tears welled up in her eyes. I asked her if she wanted the epidural. She said she wanted to wait to see if the next couple were like that one. They were.

Here's the cart they wheeled in. I find its low-tech handmade quality amusing and strangely reassuring. I don't know if you can tell, but the words handwritten on the three cross-bars are "ANESTHESIA" "EPIDURAL" and "CART."



The medication has finally taken effect and she's now resting in her bed, comfortably numb, as her uterus continues on auto-pilot. We should have our baby in just a few hours.
Still no baby, but here are some pictures of the gear they're using.


The total array, for context.



Here's the dealie that administers the pitosen (once they go back to administering it, that is). "Dealie?" What am I, fifty?



The nurses and midwives look at this monitor, as well as the report it generates and declare that the baby is "happy."

I think they are making a large assumption.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

It's official -- I'm drunk with Blogger power. This is so much easier than "manually" updating the home page/blog in my Web editor. Now if only anyone was coming here.

Anyway, they had put my wife on pitosen several hours ago in the hopes that the cervix was ripe enough to induce. As it turns out, it was not. Now she's off the pitosen and on a 12-hour cervix ripening medication. If that doesn't work, they're going to bring us a paper bag and a pear in the morning and see what that does.
Deal or No Deal

I can tell my wife, hooked up to the Labor-O-Matic machine, is getting a little bit of cabin fever because:

1. She's willing to watch Deal or No Deal

2. She's rooting for the contestants to lose.

It's looking less likely that we'll be seeing the new addition tonight. They're going to give it until 8:30 and if there hasn't been significant movement, she'll get the green light to eat and we'll start it back up tomorrow. I expect the banker to call any minute now.
So, I'm in the hospital, waiting for my wife's cervix to ripen. Yes, that's the term they use. They also use the term "persuade." Gynocological terminology is very picturesque.

Forty years ago, I'd be pacing a waiting room, a cigarette butt dangling from my lips, and countless others filling the ashtray, one eye on the door from which the nurse will emerge and declare that it's a boy or girl, the other on the pay phone I'll use to notify the handful of people who constitute the beginning of the telephone chain that will inform the world that my family has increased by one. I'd be disconnected from the details of the event, but it will be all I'm thinking about.

Today, I'm sitting next to my wife, no cigarettes in sight (not even in my coat), and I've got a wi-fi connection that lets me tell you all of this now, rather than reconstructing these thoughts in a few days, and replaces the telephone chain to boot. I'm completely connected to the details (hello ripening cervix), unlike my 1966 doppelganger, but on the other hand, I booked my flight to Boise just minutes before I started typing this.

EDIT: I forgot to mention, I'm also wearing a silver jumpsuit and a jet-pack. I love the future.

Monday, March 20, 2006

Welcome to mattfugate.com, Mach III. I decided to remove the family pictures I had on the old site. I know there has always been a contingent of visitors to my site that fall under the "friends and family" category, and I regret that this distancing is necessary, but don't fret -- I'm too freaking narcissistic to not keep you up to date. There just won't be any pictures of my family, just stories. Want pictures of my wife & kids? Send me an email and if I know you, I'll be more than happy to send you more than you could possibly want.

As I looked at the task of de-familifying the site, I realized that the family pictures were pretty well entwined with the rest of the stuff in the old site, like dandelion roots in the earth. So, rather than attempt to ease the references out individually, I decided to give it all one good yank and toss it all, dirt clods and all. If you've ever seen nastiness that is the root structure of a dandelion, you'll realize that this is not the most charitable description of my old site.

Regardless, for better or for worse, the old site is gone gone gone. mattfugate.com Mach III is smoother and simpler. It puts the standup on equal footing with the blogging, where it belongs. The old site was great if you wanted to read about me and my kids and about once a month see a new logo incorporating some seasonal image (I always enjoyed that), but if you were a booker or potential corporate client, it had unprofessional written all over it.

Don't fret, I'll still be blogging. As a matter of fact, I've taken this opportunity to finally employ a Web-based blog editor. Theoretically, this will result in more posting.

Keep your fingers crossed on that.