I will admit without shame that I’m clueless about current events. I’m aware that there is a war going on in Iraq, and that some countries our country doesn’t like already have or are trying to have nuclear weapons. I’m aware that the city of San Diego has a bunch of problems with its local government. I’m aware that oil companies are colluding with each other to gouge consumers. There’s probably some other major issue that the reader is anticipating I’m about to mention¹. I just don’t care to know the details, and I’m beginning to get over feeling guilty about not caring to know.

I’ve had TiVo since 1998, and I’ve probably skipped 100 commercials for every one I’ve watched since then. I don’t read the newspaper. I have a subscription to Wired magazine, but I haven’t read it in months. There’s one radio show I listen to, and it’s not found on NPR, and I record it and skip the commercials. I haven’t heard about the new car, movie, or politician that just came out.

Moreover, I find that I’m simply offended by reality. I used to record and watch The Daily Show, and I love to hate our government as much as the next guy, but there’s just too much news in there for me. I’d rather not know than to point and laugh. My head is comfortably in the sand.

There was a time when I thought there was virtue in knowing what was going on in our world, and there was a time when I thought there was virtue in not knowing what was going on in our world, and at this time I just don’t care.

¹ I just remembered what the other thing was… immigration.

Grandma D. watched the kids tonight while Jennifer and I went out on a date. For a change, we abandoned our regular places and went downtown to the Gaslamp District. Originally,we intended to go to Blue Point, but Jennifer was less than impressed with their menu so we ended up dinner shopping up and down Fifth Avenue and ended up at Olé Madrid. I wasn’t really very hungry to begin with, so tapas were a perfect fit. Speaking of a perfect fit, they also had martinis, and I’m seriously more outraged over the price of cocktails than over the price of gas. $3.45 per gallon is a bargain compared to the $11.00 I paid per martini. I forget which tapas we ended up eating but they were all good, and it was really nice to get out of the house by ourselves as always. When you live in the suburbs it’s easy to forget how cool things are down in the city. After dinner, we talked and walked off our cocktails before deciding we were, in fact, old people who need to get home and go to sleep.

I knew the May-June timeframe was going to be crazy busy. Things are really rolling at work; I’m really sinking my teeth into it, and boy there is a lot of work to be done in a short period of time. Yesterday I worked an 11-hour day, which is not a big deal by itself, but it does make it hard to do anything useful at home. Grandma D. and Grandpa T. are visiting; Anna is delighted, and I’m glad that there’s more attention to go around for the moment. On the down side, we had a shower-related plumbing emergency which took some dealing with; water started coming through the can lights in my office and I had to cut out some drywall, but it seems to be handled for now.

Though yesterday was stressful, it was really nice to come home and see Tara wriggling out of Mom’s arms to come see me. She toddled over and said “Hi Baby,” which is one of the ways I occasionally greet her.

On the Tiredness Mitigation Front, I’ve purchased a chest freezer and filled it with easy to prepare meals from Costco. I’ve bought stuff from Schwan’s as well, which I will be cooking up tonight. We have a lead on a nanny, who I hope to interview soon. Hopefully we can get someone in place before I have to travel, which may be coming up soon after our planned trip to the midwest.

Now I’m off to prep my steaks for grilling. Actually I’m going to broil them, as the grill is yet another thing that crapped out on us recently.

This morning the weather was looking pretty ugly and both girls were showing signs of wear from lack of sleep, so we punted on going into the park, opting for breakfast and the drive home. Tara slept in the car on the way, while Anna watched a video and Jen and I listened to our favorite podcast. Though things started out well on Saturday and early Sunday, it became clear that as far as Anna is concerned, the whole Disney empire amounts to the necessary evils of the princess lifestyle. She’d much rather cut to the chase. This is similar to my own view, only I have less appreciation for the princess lifestyle. Rather than try to put together something cohesive–I’m far too tired–I’ll merely sum up in a thumb-oriented manner:

• Thumbs up for the Princesses. They were all lovely and charming and Anna absolutely ate them up.

• Thumbs down for all else Disney.

• Thumbs up for the Hyatt Regency Orange County. The room was quite nice and not unreasonably priced.

• Thumbs down for the California Grill at the Hyatt. Breakfast was way more expensive considering the quality of the food.

• Thumbs up for Outback Steakhouse’s curbside take-away.

• Thumbs down for the parking attendant who took my two-day self-parking ticket, and after deciding the scanner couldn’t read it, tossed it into a garbage can with hundreds of other parking tickets. I made him sort through the whole can to fish it back out.

• Thumbs up for Allyn’s helpful tips which were much aid to the planning process.

• Thumbs down for the massive crowds at Disneyland.

• Thumbs up for my kickass cell phone and ShoZu, which allowed me to easily upload photos to Flickr.

I will relate one story about the video on the right: as we were waiting in line to visit Ariel in her grotto, Anna asked why she had legs when we saw her on Saturday, but a day later, she had a fish tail. I had just been thinking the day before about how Ariel didn’t speak at the restaurant, and since I hadn’t seen the movie since shortly after it came out, it took me a while to make the connection on the whole legs-for-voice trade with the sea witch¹. Anyway, I explained the situation as I new it, and Anna immediately gasped and turned white. “That means the sea witch is alive! Mom said all the witches were dead!” Oh boy. I tried to stammer out some other possible explanations, but ultimately told her to ask Ariel. Thankfully, Ariel didn’t miss a beat and explain that her father uses his magic trident to change her back and forth, apparently it helps with the commute from California Adventure.

• Thumbs up for being home, the true happiest place on earth.

¹ Note to Disney: this is taking things too far; unless the girl playing Ariel has laryngitis, she should abandon technical accuracy and talk to the princess-seekers. This is not a Star Trek convention.

Anna had a blast at California Adventure on Saturday. Actually, as soon as we got into the hotel, she was so enthralled by the idea of being on vacation, and being in a hotel room that she didn’t want to go into the park at first. Tara was all ready to go, grabbing her shoes and standing by the door. By the time we finally had everyone ready to move out, we could tell it was going to be a short day. Tara slept 20 minutes in the car and would not nap in the room, and Anna went without a nap entirely, but our one objective was dinner with the Princesses. We had time for one short ride before dinner. Anna was very excited about seeing all the princesses at dinner; as we sat down she could see them roaming around and talking to people.

Our first visit was from Ariel, who didn’t talk (in character) and only stopped for a short while, but left Tara with a lipstick smooch on her forehead. Snow White was very friendly and chatty, and got Anna to open up a little bit. Cinderella was very charmed by Tara, who started waving to her immediately, and when asked if she was having a good time, started nodding emphatically. Dinner was good, so for the entertainment value I consider it money well spent.

Today, Anna and Jennifer are at Disneyland, and Tara just woke up from her morning nap, so I’ll be going over to meet them shortly.

Update: Shortly after I arrived at the park and met up with Jennifer and Anna, they went off to hear storytime while Tara and I walked around in a zigzag-like manner for many minutes before a ride in the stroller followed. We met up again, and Anna started to feel a little nauseous, probably as a result of her diet of juice and goldfish crackers. We all went back to the hotel for lunch and Tara’s nap. Anna still doesn’t seem to be inclined to nap, and one of us will likely head back to the park shortly.

The hotel seems to have T-Mo wireless broadband, which is working pretty well, so I’ll start processing and uploading the rest of the photos from this morning.

I’m too cheap to pay $10 for broadband tonight, but am uploading photos from today (and writing this post) on my cell phone. We didn’t get into California Adventure until almost 4 today, but Anna loved seeing the princesses at the restaurant. I just have to stop thinking about how much that one meal cost. Note Anna’s choice of dresses to match Sleeping Beauty.

Today we’re taking Anna to Disneyland. She has never been, which is quite amazing considering the fact that Anna at this points considers being a princess as a legitimate career path. Tara picked up a cold this week just in time for the trip, but we’re going to brave it anyway because the timing is only going to get worse from here on out. Anna already has her bags all packed up. She’s terribly excited. If you’re in the Anaheim area, listen very closely around dinnertime, as there’s a good chance Anna’s just going to explode with delight when the princesses start coming around to our table at Ariel’s Grotto. We will certainly have camphone/blog updates over the weekend.

My new job is really kicking into gear, as I’m finding myself owning risk mitigation among a group of people who starting throwing caution to the wind at least a year ago. Thus, I’ll be bringing in my laptop and making the Happiest Code Check-ins on Earth. Yay.

I’m officially turning in my apron. I used to poke fun at my coworkers over the amount they ate carry-out, but after my solo stint a couple weeks back, I’ve decided I just don’t have time to cook anymore. Cooking takes a crazy long time. I just don’t have that extra hour every day to make dinner. Yesterday (Mother’s Day, I know, but it was also Anna’s birthday, and for a whole bunch of other reasons, Mother’s Day is postponed this year) I bought a chest freezer, which I intend to fill with premade dinners, which will be delivered to our house by someone in a uniform. From now on, “making dinner” will consist of removing something from the defrosting drawer and putting in the over, then removing something from the deep freeze and putting it in the defrosting drawer. For the record, I’ve been making dinner for, uhm, EVER. Jennifer could cook if she was pressed to do it, but it’s just not a good idea on a regular basis.

Also, I talked with a nanny placing service today, so we could soon be interviewing nannies. This is a big jump for me, as I was very against the idea of spending more money for someone else to spend more time with my kids, rather than me doing it myself. However, the couple weeks I spent alone with the kids has really opened my eyes to how much work there is to be done around here, and how much more we could be enjoying the time we spend with our kids if we weren’t constantly occupied with the logistics and cleaning that seem to occupy most of our time.

Yesterday wasn’t much to speak of, either in terms of Mother’s Days nor Birthdays… and that fact is as probably as good an indicator as any of how stretched we are. I never have been an especially good planner of surprises, or even of non-surprise celebrations, but every now and then I do come up with a winner. The ladies that cut Jen’s hair still tell (and embellish) the story of how I made an album of Anna’s first year for Jennifer’s first Mother’s Day. In truth, I took advantage of my insomnia to do something useful for a couple months, and sought the advice of a coworker to make a simple album. According to the ladies at the salon, I took scrapbooking classes and popped No-Doz every night of Anna’s life in order to create a veritable monument to babyhood that will one day reside in the Louvre alongside Michelangelo’s Pietá[1].

Anyway, this Mother’s Day was supposed to be one of those grand occasions which would reveal another work that would further The Legend of Dave, that parable of hairdresser culture. So, it’s not done yet. And at the rate it’s going, it’s would likely be next Mother’s Day before it’s unveiled, if it weren’t for the fact that I plan to turn in my apron and hire a nanny. I’m hoping that I can free up some time for the thing that seems to be in highest demand around here: attention.

¹ Yes, I know Pietá is in the Vatican.

This is an edited repost of The Birth, which I could have simply linked to, but I think it’s worth a copy and paste (and edit). Mother’s Day post coming later.

Jennifer had concluded her last day of work on Friday, without much fanfare. She was looking forward to a few weeks off to tie up loose ends around the house, easing her way through the final weeks of pregnancy and into motherhood. The following morning, we were on our way to a parenting class (_Sleep Strategies_, if I remember right) when Jen felt so uncomfortable on the drive down, that she had me turn around and go home because there was no way she was going to be able to bear sitting on folding chairs all morning. Discomfort had become a fact of life in the third trimester, but this was extra special discomfort.

Back home, she laid down, drank some water, and relaxed and was soon feeling better. As sort of a “mother’s day” outing, Jennifer decided she wanted to see a Padres game. The Padres were on a home stand, and we know there wouldn’t be much more baseball in our future for a while. A. J. Burnett was pitching for the Florida Marlins, and the Padres lost 0-3. How do I remember this detail, five years later, you ask? Because during tha game Jennifer was again feeling uncomfortable, and wanted to leave around the sixth inning, but Burnett was throwing a no-hitter. With the sensitivity and caring that only a proud first-time father-to-be can muster, I told Jen, “Honey, we can have other children, but when are we ever going to see a NO-HITTER?” Burnett finished the game with no hits, seven strikeouts, and nine walks. We stayed.

The next morning, Jennifer went swimming and had continued bouts of discomfort during the day. Around dinner time, she asked me to put together a bag for the hospital. I grudgingly began to oblige, and quickly lost interest. In my defense, let me say that Jennifer’s list of things to bring to the hospital was a proper superset of every list of things to bring to the hospital ever published. It would have been easier to bring the hospital to us.

It was after ten o’clock when Jennifer, who was resting on [piece of furniture will remain anonymous, since many of you have since used it] announced that her water had broke. Actually, “announced” is the wrong word, as it neither indicates the urgency with which she made her declaration, nor evokes the sheer panic with which I reacted. The next few minutes I remember as being something of a blur, as I realized how little of the uber-list I had packed. I rushed around the house stuffing everything in sight into a duffel bag: pillows, towels, slippers, house plants. Finally, Jen said it was time to go, and I took the bag, the list, and mama-to-be down to the hospital. On the way, we called our good friends J. and D., who went to our house and played scavenger hunt with the copy we had left of the uber-list, and Jennifer’s mom, who seemed pretty nonplussed–it was 2am her time, and she expected we were only at the beginning of many hours of labor.

I realize now that Jennifer’s mom had a very different perspective on labor, having been through it twice, than did we. I had already been instructed, on a previous hospital trip, on the proper procedures for dropping off, parking, checking in, and the progression through different areas of the hospital at different stages of labor and delivery. In practice what happened was more like an episode of COPS, when a suspect on the run jumps out of a moving vehicle, hits the ground running, and flees cross-country while ducking gunfire. I may be wrong about the gunfire, but it was a long time ago, so my memory may be spotty.

In triage, we mostly waited around, occasionally toting our duffel bag and pillows from place to place, until a nurse brought a portable ultrasound cart. The ultrasound determined that… well, I don’t remember that it determined anything, but I remember that it was there. Eventually we were moved to the labor and delivery room, where we waited around some more, while Jennifer was being fitted with all sorts of instrumentation, until the OBGYN finally showed up. She used another portable ultrasound to determine what Jen had known for weeks, which was that the baby was breech. Apparently, having a baby who is breech after the water breaks is the magic combination for a c-section. It was around this time that J. and D. showed up with the results of the uber-list scavenger hunt, just in time for Jennifer and I to be prepped for surgery. My surgery prep mainly consisted of reading and signing pages of liability forms, until Jennifer reminded me that I was supposed to be coaching her labor, which had reached the point that it needed some coaching right now. I multitasked by reading the forms to Jennifer while simultaneously coaching her breathing. I think it went something like, “the undersigned party of the first part (breathe in) hereby relinquishes all rights (breath out) of litigation with respect to the (breath out) party of the second part…”

After it was decided that a c-section was in order, things began to happen very quickly. Jennifer was moved to a wheelchair, then out of the room. I was still signing papers, and gathering up our stuff. The doctor and nurse were moving around with purpose. I went down the hall, and had only a few seconds to talk to Jen before she went in to be prepared for the surgery and I went to a different area to put on scrubs. Jennifer was shaking. She was being wheeled down the hall and was shaking so hard I don’t think she could have a held a glass of water if she wanted to. I could see she was scared, and she was cold, and things were not happening the way she expected. I took her chilly hand and held it in mine. “Everything is going to be okay.” I said, but I was as uncertain as she was.

By the time I was dressed and allowed into the operating room, Jennifer was laid down on a table with a curtain separating her head from the rest of her body. I sat down to talk to her head. We talked for a little bit and she seemed in much better spirits. She couldn’t feel anything that was going on. “Have they started yet? It’s ok if you look.” she asked. I peered over the curtain. The doctor had opened the incision and was installing some very large stainless steel spreaders to keep it open, and using and unsettling amount of force to do it. “Oh yeah, they’ve started.”

Jennifer encouraged me to keep looking. I could see where the doctor cut into the uterus; there was a little spash of fluid, then almost immediately, two little feet came poking out, making little alternating kicks. The doctor grabbed the feet and quickly pulled Anna out, holding her upside down as the cord was clamped and cut. As Anna was handed to a nurse, still upside down, her little baby hand reached out and grasped some tubing that was hanging next to the table where Jennifer lay. Comically, the nurse kept walking until she realized Anna was putting up some resistance, then turned around and pried her little hand off the tube.

I remembered that I had my camera with me, and snapped a picture of Anna being cleaned up. In a few moments, the nurse brought her over to Jen, who gently touched and stroked her face. The nurse handed Anna to me, then reached for my camera and asked if she could take a picture of the three of us.

It had all happened so fast. Just a few hours previous, we were a young, married, childless couple hanging around the house. Three frantic hours separated two lifestyles that could not have been more different. We were a family. A frantic, tired, happy family.

The nurse stood in front of us and held up the camera.

“Just point and shoot, right?”

Anna has lately started using the word “crap.” A lot–even more than Jennifer does. Jennifer is fully aware of the fact that she uses the word and that Anna uses the word because Jennifer uses the word, but for some reason I only got to raise my eyebrows once at Jennifer with impunity. Since then, I can’t so much as take note of Anna’s crap crappity-crap without Jen glaring at me like I set her head on fire for the 800th time. I think that if Jennifer is demonstrably culpable for Anna’s bad behavior I should be able to gloat for at least a couple days.