Look below...

There's a new post... but it shows up out of order because I started writing it before my "commentary on comments"

A Commentary on Comments...

Yesterday evening, Libby and I sat on the couch, mesmerized by the screensaver on our computer... it wasn't anything all that incredible or anything. Just a slideshow from one of our Central American excursions, but it was fun to relive, anyhow. That prompted me to open up the blog I had written from that trip (http://EglesInCentralAmerica.blogspot.com) and read/re-read all the comments people had left. Then I did the same thing for the other blogs I've written (http://JandLinCR.blogspot.com, http://EglesInAfrica.blogspot.com, and http://EglesInIreland.blogspot.com). It was good times. I appreciated the feedback people left. Some was quite humorous. Some was encouraging. Some was random.

Anyhow, I just thought I'd throw that out there, in case anyone actually still reads this blog. I like comments. I read them. They make me feel warm and fuzzy inside (since I don't have an inherent source of heat like my better half does. Even if it takes mentioning people in order to spur on some comments (Alison), I'll do what it takes to encourage the feedback....

Bringing home the loot...

A tradition of mothers-to-be is to have baby showers. I must admit, I've been to very, very few in my life. (Read: one.) It was for the wife of one of my fellow residents. They're from Pakistan, and they aren't too familiar with the tradition of baby showers. It was thrown by a few of the other residents, from India, who also were unfamiliar with baby showers. We, however, were in experienced hands. This baby shower was thrown by the "Aunts," who collectively, have 15 children (if I counted correctly). I also must admit that I use the term "we" rather loosely, as I was stuck at work and was not able to participate first-hand. Though, I did get a bag full of dirty diapers brought home to me so that I could have the full experience...

The guests of honor with one of the host aunts

Now, as I understand is customary for such events, there were lots of fun times... games, delicious food, yummy desserts, gifts, and the passage of wisdom from the experienced to the newbies. (I know you're still wondering about that dirty diapers comment I made before. Don't worry, all will be clear in due time.)

Each of the fetuses got a cake!
(Of course, since they have not even attempted the art of breastfeeding yet, it was decided that the cakes should be left for those with more established histories in terms of the whole eating thing.)

People's generosity was quite amazing. Lots of people put lots of time into the event. Obviously, the aunts put in lots of time planning. The Grandma-to-Be planned all of the games. But don't be mistaken. This was not a ladies-only affair. Uncles and male cousins turned out in droves and gave great gifts, provided their technical assistance assembling things, entertained the masses, and even helped in naming the babies!

A beautiful cake... not edible, though. Baked by none other than Uncle Dale

Now, I'm not one to have favorites or anything, but that cake pictured above is a pretty unique gift. It's a whole bunch of diapers and bibs and onsies and all sorts of baby paraphenelia all wrapped up to look like a fancy cake. Now, how cool is that? Good work, Dale! And thanks! Speaking of favorites, it's important to have a balanced account of the event, so let's talk a little about least favorites. Now, when you think about baby clothes, you probably picture cute little socks and adorable little slogans on tiny pajamas and all sorts of other things that make you feel warm and fuzzy inside... assuming that you're like most people, that is. So, again, assuming that you're normal, I must warn you. Brace yourself for the picture that's about to be displayed. If there are young children around, you may ask them to leave the room. If you're not sitting down, have a seat. And most importantly, if you have recently eaten, you may want to wait a little while before viewing the following image.

Ok....

Ready?

AHHHHHHHHGGGG!!!! EWWWW!!!!

Every story has a happy ending, right? This story is no exception. You see, even though my beautiful wife is pictured with... well, I can hardly even speak the words. The picture, though, is misleading. As a cruel joke, the picture was taken to scare me. And scare me it did. BUT do not fear! The gift/curse did not come home with Libby. The above pictured article was one of four outfits wrapped up and chosen at random by Libby and Laura. I have never loved Libby more than when I found out that she DID NOT chose that package. Laura did. May her pride rest in peace.

Oblivious to the torture occurring around her, the future grandma is happy

I know that I mentioned that I wasn't able to attend the festivities. What I meant to say was that I wasn't able to attend MOST of the festivities. When I heard that one of the gifts was customized scrubs for Libby and myself, I figured I could take a little time off to make my way to Ohio and model them. After all, if I got paged while I was away, I'd still be dressed for duty, right? So, here's the only pic of me at the party since I had to pop in and out so quickly:

I look pretty good, don't I? I mean, I know it looks like I'm shorter, but I'm just slouching a little, having put in so many hours at the hospital already, and having to rush back.... that's enough to make anyone tired!

I know, I know. You're smarter than I think. I can't fool you. That picture isn't really me. Despite my absolutely phenomenal editing in Paintbrush, you can probably sense there's something askew about the picture, so here's the real version (any excuse to post a Grandma picture!)

She's not really the Daddy... just filling in for him

Hope you didn't expect just one Grandma pic

Just a few more pictures of gifts, and a few more accompanying thoughts. What do you think the primary purpose of about 85% of all baby products is (if I've done my calculations correctly, that is)? Encaging the baby. I don't even know if encage is a word, but that doesn't diminish the importance of confining your baby to a limited space. Think about it: Pack 'N Plays, cribs, gates, bouncers, car seats, booster seats... everything with walls and straps and seats and anything other clever device they can think of to trap the baby. I'll assume for the moment that I've convinced you, if by nothing other than public opinion, of the need to incarcerate new babies into small spaces. With that thought in mind, what could be a better gift than a portable jail that you simply throw into the air and it assembles itself?

Whoosh! A (mostly) self-assembling portable bed/trap...

And of course, there's diapers. I often like to pretend they don't exist. In fact, I sometimes daydream about having a pre-potty-trained baby. But some day I will wake up to the fact that it'll probably take a week or two to potty-train our child. So for those 10-14 days, we'll probably need a few diapers. Good thing other people realize that fact, as well.

Bum genius: fit for a baby who will be potty-trained in less than one month!

Wait a second... you're still wondering about that comment I made at the beginning. I said I got a bag full of dirty diapers. But that picture looks like nice fresh cloth diapers in their original packaging... not exactly soiled.

Allow me to walk you through a little mental exercise. Close your eyes. Picture a diaper. (I'm glad you opened your eyes again... otherwise this would have been a long exercise.) A dirty diaper. A dirty diaper overflowing with brown stuff. What's the last thing you would want to do.

Is Katrina actually smelling that dirty diaper?

Smelling dirty diapers... ewww!!! And yet that was the point of one of the games. A table full of dirty diapers all splayed out, ready for people to come... sniff... examine. Why would anyone be so crazy? It turns out the brown stuff overflowing from the diapers wasn't the typical brown stuff in diapers... it was melted candy bars. Each diaper had a different candy bar, and the obect of the game was to identify the candy. And so that I could fully apprectiate the game, Libby brought the little "treasures" home with me so that I could try my nose, as well. I think she was just trying to use some behavioral therapy strategy to help rid me of my fear of diapers. We'll see if it worked.

All in all, it was a delightful afternoon. Libby had tons of fun. We got wonderful gifts. I wish I could've gone... but there's rumors that there might be another opportunity for me to participate in a shower that's more local... so another post for you to look forward to!

Getting bigger!

Meet the World's Cutest Pregnant Lady

When we were dating and when we first got married, I always thought Libby would look pretty cute when she was pregnant. I was, of course, quite right. Now, I know what you're thinking: either, "Of course you think that! You're biased," or you're thinking, "Agggghhhkk! Gag me!"

Either way, I just felt inclined to share with you a brief story to support my argument. In our residency programs, we go through various rotations in different specialties. Libby's rotations are more varied as her overall specialty (family medicine) is more broad. Anyhow, as she was rotating in a new office last month, one of the office workers where she was rotating came up to her. "Are you pregnant?" she asked. "Because... you're the cutest pregnant lady I've ever seen!"

And that was coming from a medical professional, ladies and gentlemen. I rest my case.