It’s all about the baby stuff

OK, so I’ve announced I’m going to be a dad. It’s pretty exciting to tell people and hear their reactions. They’ve ranged from joy and excitement to the occasional burst of laughter followed by, “Dude, you are NOT ready for diapers. Can you even change a garbage bag?” Yes, I can. But now that most have found out about my news and I return to the much-less exciting real world, I’m quickly learning that the real world revolves around preparing for Baby T. I’m sure there was a time when pregnancy was easier. Don’t lynch me: I’m not implying childbirth IS or ever WAS easy. (That’s my legal disclaimer to avoid lawsuits.) I know it’s tough, incredibly painful and frankly dangerous. I got an oversized jaw breaker stuck in my mouth once as a kid and it took a lot of heavy breathing, screaming, pushing and finally a crow bar to “birth” it back out the way it went in. I lost three teeth in the process and got a small sampling of what childbirth must be like. So when I say it must have been easier, I’m only referring to the fact that it couldn’t have always involved so much, you know, baby stuff — cribs, bassinets, strollers, car seats, changing tables and “How Your Baby Can Score 1,500 on the SATs” books. It’s not fun stuff like toys. That’s what I’m looking forward to getting. But this is functional and necessary stuff. And there’s a lot to learn. […]

Continue Reading

Oh My God, I’m a Dad to Be

I don’t know how else to say it except to come right out and put it down on paper — I’m going to be a dad. Yeah, that’s right. The world shall receive another Thompson, quirks and all. The due date is Dec. 23, and a masterstroke of planning for two people who like to think out everything, but could mis-schedule French toast. This should be one heck of a holiday season. I want to tell you everything, but these writing waters are treacherous. Why? The woman is pregnant, man! You don’t make her mad in a column. I might die. Careful, I must be. So where to begin? Not the beginning, I’ll tell you that. How about this … It all began with a scream. It did. I thought there was a mouse loose in the bathroom, or that she had dropped something important (like the title to our house) in the toilet again. Little did I know the pregnancy test stork, the modern day harbinger of good news, had arrived. I ran into the bathroom, with tongs ready for the fishing expedition, only to find I’m going to be a dad. What a pleasant surprise. The eloquent stick made a proclamation worthy of Shakespeare — “Pregnant,” it said. Glorious! I wish they sold tape recorders that can capture emotions, the feelings of a moment. I want forever that joy, that excitement, the overwhelming sense of pride, the crumb-size bit of fear, the surge of energy through the room […]

Continue Reading