General Namelessness

Me: Too bad you’re not giving birth to a horse.

C: Why?

Me: Because “horse with no name” is a recognized and accepted phrase within the American lexicon.

C: Well, with you as the dad, he could easily be a jackass. So you’ve got that.

This is clearly gonna be a game-time decision. Maybe we should just go with Sigourney Weaver.

Maybe Sigourney Weaver Would Help

Caroline and Alli, as seen waiting for Go Dot.

I feel guilty because I can tell that more and more of you are stopping by each and every day, very likely with the specific intent of finding out whether or not Grand Finale has begun his reign of planet Earth. And, well, he hasn’t. Which means each time you stop by, instead of some joyous birth announcement, all you’re getting are various snippets of mindless conversations which feature subjects as asinine as Rambo’s bandana, the Bang-Bang train and nipple stimulation as it pertains to NASCAR — all while we wait for the little fellow who’s starting to feel as if he might not ever get here.

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Rambo’s Bandana

Image: danmeth‘s photostream via Creative Commons

“Oh my Gosh,” said Caroline early this morning, her back to me as she stood at the kitchen counter consulting her laptop. “Karen’s totally right.”

“Who’s Karen?” I asked as I wiped the sleep from my eyes.

“The incredibly insightful woman who commented on your wives’ tale post yesterday. The one who said that walking helped bring about labor with her children, both of whom were late.”

“Ah,” I said, immediately knowing who she was talking about. “The woman who walked for hours on end at the Atlanta Olympics.”

“That’s right, honey. So what are you waiting for?” Caroline asked as she turned around and looked me square in the eye with uncommon determination. “Go get your shoes.”

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Insert Your Caption Here

So that’s what the Stork looks like?

Nipple Stimulation, Castor Oil and a Half Rack of Ribs

Caroline has officially entered the Wives’ Tale portion of her pregnancy.

Hi everyone. My name is John Cave Osborne and I’m married to the lovely and charming Caroline. And I’d like to welcome you to the Wives’ Tale portion of her much ballyhooed pregnancy. Though she would probably refer to it as the Something’s Gotta Give portion. Because, well, something’s gotta give with this kid.

I mean for days now we’ve been living under “any minute” status. Yet for days now? Nothing. Zip. Nada.  And it’s starting to feel as if we’re Waiting for Godot over here. Caroline? She’s had about enough of it. As such, she’s been consulting various wives’ tales in hopes of enticing the little fella out of her womb, dropping said wives’ tales (out of nowhere) in casual conversation as if they were as ordinary as items on our grocery list.

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Dear Pregnancy Gods, Please Gimme My Wife Back

Image: mendhak‘s photostream via Creative Commons.

Dear Pregnancy Gods,

Please gimme my wife back. Don’t get me wrong, this lactose dependent being (as presumed by her legendary and daily ice cream consumption) is charming, and she looks as beautiful as ever, swollen belly and all. And, what’s more, she’s still carrying on much as she did before her pregnancy. Just yesterday for example, she reigned supreme (yet again) in her tennis match. On court number one, mind you. And at 39 weeks and 1 day pregnant, no less.

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The Countdown to a Birth and the Embracing of It

Grand Finale has it. He’s holding on to it right now.

Today marks 39 weeks which means that sometime within the next seven days it’s overwhelmingly likely that Grand Finale Osborne will begin his reign of planet Earth. And the reality of what’s to come is finally taking full effect, causing my mind to race at warp speed, looking ahead to the future with hope as it looks back to the past for guidance. Back to the child who had it, yet never understood exactly what it was.

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My Pregnant Wife is the Amy Winehouse of Nesting

That crib looks like shit there. — Right as always, Amy. Right as always. Image: judacoregio‘s photostream via Creative Commons

Caroline’s been on this hardcore nesting bender for like 12 seeks now which, when you think about it, kinda makes her the Amy Winehouse of nesting. For example, just last Saturday she woke me up at 6:30 in the morning with the following comment: “I don’t think we should put this year’s Christmas tree where we put it last year. I think we should move it to where we had it the year before instead.” And while that may have been disconcerting, it was nothing compared to the online extravaganza she embarked upon just two hours later when she decided to knock out a little Christmas shopping. (Send. Help. Now.)

Anyway, I blogged about it a bit ago and today, the fine folks at GoodMenProject are running it on their site. To read it, please click here. (But don’t forget to send help.)

Caroline Discusses Her Pregnancy (Video)

You know what I thought would be fun? To make a video of me interviewing Caroline about her pregnancy while we were on Spring Break this past March. It was to be called “Lifestyles of the Hitched and Aimless — The Barefoot and Pregnant Edition” and was sure to be equal parts charm and hilarity. Yet as we tried to film it? Neither one of us was feeling it, so we nixed it. But this past weekend, we decided to give it another go, only without the whole fancy-name bit — just a good-ol fashioned interview in which we hoped to showcase a bit of the playful banter in which we often engage.

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Grand Finale Osborne

Shhhh. He’s sleeping.

So, just two weeks and six days until Grand Finale Osborne begins his reign of planet Earth. That noise you may have heard a second ago? It was the sound of the brick I just passed hitting the ground. Because I gotta admit, I’m freaking out a bit. And the plethora of Dr. Brown’s bottles which have suddenly appeared out of nowhere?

Not helping. But one thing that does help is looking at these pictures of him.

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