What's one more...

My boss informed me of an interesting Portuguese expression: O que È um peido para quem est· cagado. It translates into "What is another fart when you've already shit your pants".

I laughed and laughed... such an awesome visual when dealing with yet another problem on something that's just full of them. Much better than talking about the broken windows theory.

Home stretch

It's less than 1 month to the due date. Laura's been doing wonderful, most of the things have been taken care of that we need to be done (other than the car seat). My level of terror is dropping off, which I hope is a good thing. I don't feel "ready", but I figure that I'm feeling about as ready as I'm going to be. I'm actually getting a bit excited about meeting our new addition. When I think of that excitement, the terror speaks up with a "I've not left yet!", but it's a quite voice at this point.

The thought of me being a father is still surreal, but I think that I'll grow into it. ;-)

Person first adds perspective

It's all about putting things into perspective. I've said things like "disabled child", but was corrected to "child with a disability". I didn't understand how the ordering of the words mattered, but Laura helped me understand it a bit better. Apparently it's person first, disease / condition second because the person is the most important part. They are not the disease. They are not the label. They have their own identity.

It's all about perspective. Talking to a guy at work with a disability, he says that the disabled community refers to people without a disability as the "currently abled". That has a strong tinge of this too shall pass.

Along this train of thought I'd like to post Invictus which I find an extremely powerful poem.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

"Are you happy that it's a girl?"

It's funny the questions that ask you when they find out that you're going to have a girl. Probably the most common is "Are you happy that it's going to be a girl?". Such a dumb ass question. I usually response with "No, not really. I was really hoping for a boy" just to see how they react. Of course I'm ecstatic that we're having a baby. It seems like such a useless question to me, like "Do you like breathing air?".

On the weekend I had a funny reaction where a woman thought that I was serious and said something like "well then..." and got up and walked away. I'm not my fault that when they asked an idiotic question and I replied likewise but with a straight face and they didn't get it. Should I feel bad about the interaction? Maybe. But I'm just so tired of the question.

Busy September

It's been a busy month. We've gotten new windows, 2 exterior doors, siding, exterior lights, ripped up the baby's room carpet to expose the hardwood underneath, my father-in-law has painted that room, got plumbing in the basement changed including removal of the 1958 concrete sink, had the exterior drain cleaned out, gone out west to Banff, Jasper, Yoho, Kootenay and Calgary, had the microwave die and replaced, worked on closing my business totally down, and probably a couple of more things that I'm forgetting.

Today Laura is 31 weeks, 4 days and I'm just wondering how we're going to be able to take care of another person. Doing all the above stuff, it goes through my head "how would any of this be possible with a baby? I have a hard enough time taking care of myself"

Now Laura wants to rip up the carpet on the other 2 rooms and repaint them. Oh, and we'll have to look into getting more things like a car seat and a crib. I missed the honeymoon trimester in which I was supposed to get everything done. Oie.

I really don't know how other people do it, but pretty soon I think that I'm going to find out.

Prestidigitator

I always like the titles people choose in IM at work. Mine is "prestidigitator", mostly because it's a pretty obscure word from some forgotten novel that I read in highschool. I'm blogging this because there isn't any way that I can remember how to spell it, and at best the key word that I can figure out is "magician".

Perspective

When speaking to Laura's 90 year old grandmother the other day she was talking about this young person that had just died and how sad it was. How early. I didn't realize at first she was talking about someone who was 71. I guess so much depends on your certain point of view.