Post from a month ago, that I will publish now.
Finding out that Jessica and I are going to have our first child wasn’t exactly the “Arms Wide Open” experience I thought it was going to be. Outside of the first 5 seconds or realization, it’s been less of a rush of emotion and more of a slow trickle. I told Jessica that my lack of running around the house screaming wasn’t from a lack of excitement, it was more to the fact that it just hadn’t sunk in yet. And over the last few days, it’s slowly dawning on me that fatherhood lies ahead. Even writing these few sentences have made it all the more real, to the point that I’ve had to stop a few times and just stare at the words.
I think the first week of knowledge is a strange time, I’ve had 3 modes that my mind sits in: 1. The wonder and amazement filled with euphoric excitement stage. 2. The anxiety ridden stage in which prenatal health, childbirth, and money worries flood the brain to almost shutdown. 3. The stage where you shut all that out to be able to keep living your life.
It’s made all the more strange by an inability to tell anyone. We’ve decided to wait until after this critical time is over, just to be sure (hence me not posting this blog until a month from now). And so basically the only people that know are Jessica, me, the receptionist that we made our doctor’s appointment with, and now the check out guy at Barnes and Noble. The check out guy at Snyder Drug that we bought the pregnancy test from has his suspicions, but we haven’t gone back and let him know the results yet.
Anyway, it’s a strange group to have in on one of the most important bits of information in your life. Especially the Barnes and Noble guy. One of the first things I realized is that I needed to go buy a pregnancy book as I had no idea what was going on, so getting information about pregnancy was tops on the list. At the same time, I needed to take back a Poker Strategy book that I got for a gift but already had a copy of. So after putting these two things together, I had a huge scenario mapped out in my head and I entered B&N with a definite smirk on my face. See, I was trading in the whimsical fun of my youth (poker book) for the responsibility and seriousness of adulthood (baby book). I could have taken the poker book back another time, but it was the perfect metaphor. I had seen the big picture of my transaction and wanted the sales clerk to pick up on the cleverness of it all. I’d place the two books down and say “I’d like to trade this in, for this.” And the clerk would look at the two, then to me, and then we’d all have a good smile and wink fest.
But the clerk was a total dick. Not interested in my life or what I was purchasing. He looked at me with annoyed glazed over look when I approached the counter and interrupted his internet surfing. I put the two books down, said my line “I’d like to trade this in, for this” and put my smirk on. He said nothing, picked up the phone and forced out the bored words “I have an exchange at register 3,” then stared into space as he waited for a manager to come. In my head, I thought, “Dude, you are totally ruining my metaphor!” I stomped out of the store and cursed the big box stores, don’t know a funny situation when it comes up and slaps them in the face.
I think the first week of knowledge is a strange time, I’ve had 3 modes that my mind sits in: 1. The wonder and amazement filled with euphoric excitement stage. 2. The anxiety ridden stage in which prenatal health, childbirth, and money worries flood the brain to almost shutdown. 3. The stage where you shut all that out to be able to keep living your life.
It’s made all the more strange by an inability to tell anyone. We’ve decided to wait until after this critical time is over, just to be sure (hence me not posting this blog until a month from now). And so basically the only people that know are Jessica, me, the receptionist that we made our doctor’s appointment with, and now the check out guy at Barnes and Noble. The check out guy at Snyder Drug that we bought the pregnancy test from has his suspicions, but we haven’t gone back and let him know the results yet.
Anyway, it’s a strange group to have in on one of the most important bits of information in your life. Especially the Barnes and Noble guy. One of the first things I realized is that I needed to go buy a pregnancy book as I had no idea what was going on, so getting information about pregnancy was tops on the list. At the same time, I needed to take back a Poker Strategy book that I got for a gift but already had a copy of. So after putting these two things together, I had a huge scenario mapped out in my head and I entered B&N with a definite smirk on my face. See, I was trading in the whimsical fun of my youth (poker book) for the responsibility and seriousness of adulthood (baby book). I could have taken the poker book back another time, but it was the perfect metaphor. I had seen the big picture of my transaction and wanted the sales clerk to pick up on the cleverness of it all. I’d place the two books down and say “I’d like to trade this in, for this.” And the clerk would look at the two, then to me, and then we’d all have a good smile and wink fest.
But the clerk was a total dick. Not interested in my life or what I was purchasing. He looked at me with annoyed glazed over look when I approached the counter and interrupted his internet surfing. I put the two books down, said my line “I’d like to trade this in, for this” and put my smirk on. He said nothing, picked up the phone and forced out the bored words “I have an exchange at register 3,” then stared into space as he waited for a manager to come. In my head, I thought, “Dude, you are totally ruining my metaphor!” I stomped out of the store and cursed the big box stores, don’t know a funny situation when it comes up and slaps them in the face.
posted by Roark_8 at 2:24 PM
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Write a new blog!
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