Ramblings of an Expectant Dad 2.0, Part 2, The Sequel

[EDITOR’S NOTE, i.e. I gotta tell you something before you read further: I wrote this piece a couple months ago. Yeah I know I need to do some catching up. Be patient.]

So… this post is a little long, because it’s the first in a new series and I’m a wordy guy and I have thoughts and such. With that said…. Thus begin…

 The Ramblings of an Expectant Dad, Part 2.

Hey, you know what? I’ve been at this parenting stuff for over two years now. Sure, the “Terrible Twos” are starting, but you know what? It’s not really that bad. We adjust our parenting style, we’ve read up on some measures we can take to mitigate what our daughter is going through, and we cope. Thankfully I have an incredible partner in my wife to help get us through whatever comes our way!

So, of course, this is right about the time my world gets turned ass-side upwards.

(Ass-side upwards??)

Come on, admit it. It sounds better than saying “turned upside down.”

(Okay, we’ll give you that.)

The parenthetical heckler, ladies and gentlemen. Remember him? We’ll you’re probably going to be seeing quite a bit more of him over then next year or so. Because yes, just when things in my life seem to be under control, manageable, and flowing in the right direction, that’s when things in my life tend to go a little bit crazy. Cooky, even. And yes, sometimes even spooky.

(Adams Family earworm? You’re starting with this crap already??)

Yup. You know I deflect my anxiety with humor. And boy, howdy, am I gonna need a lot of humor. Here’s the thing – I completed probably the worst, most stressful year of my law career in 2019. But I completed it, and I came out of it with what little of my sanity that remained from before still relatively intact. The wife got a new job, we’re relatively debt free now, and we’d settled into a fairly stable parenting routine. Our daughter is absolutely amazing. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t fight back tears of pride and joy for this little human we’ve created.

She’s now two years old. She can recite the alphabet, sing Old MacDonald and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and You Are My Sunshine, among other songs, count to twenty, climb, run, jump, and accomplish a myriad of other things on an ever-changing, daily basis. Of course there are trying days, what with the tantrums and everything else that goes along with toddler life, but we’re hanging in there. Hell, we’re doing well.

(So, what’s the problem?)

The problem is that it’s still stressful. And I do still get anxious. So hey! How about we throw a global pandemic health crisis into the mix? Sure! It’ll be great!

Said. No. Fucking. One. Ever.

Okay. 

We got this.

We’ll take precautions, wash our hands, do whatever we have to do to stay safe. We can do it. At least we’re all healthy and none of us are immunocompromised.

[Narrator: About that immunocompromised thing? That isn’t technically correct.]

Guess what folks? One of us is. Not because of sickness, mind you, but rather the opposite. On purpose, actually. In case you couldn’t figure it out from the title of this blog post, we learned at the beginning of March that Offspring, the Sequel was in the works. Yup, I’m gonna be a dad. Again. Double Dad. Dad squared. And if that’s not clear….

WE’RE HAVING ANOTHER BABY!!!!

(It’s about time you got to saying it. CONGRATULATIONS!)

*blushing*

Thank you! In all honesty this is something that’s been in works. Completely planned, but like last time it took more time than we’d hoped. Notwithstanding, as Doctor Ian Malcolm says in Jurassic Park, life, uh, finds a way.

(Did you just compare your procreation to single-sexed dinosaur clones finding a way to reproduce??)

I, well, yes, but… SHUT UP! That’s not how I meant it and you know it. I simply meant that it though it took longer than hoped, the news of a new addition didn’t come as a surprise. And I gotta be honest; my wife told me in the cutest way. We were cleaning up after dinner, and as we’ve been trying to teach our daughter valuable life skills, the child was helping us clear the table. Usually it goes like this: mommy gives her something, says “bring this to daddy,” and then I put “this” in the sink or dishwasher. First a plate, then a spoon, then another spoo—

I hadn’t looked down at first, but immediately felt that whatever was in my hand was no spoon. Upon closer inspection I discovered that I was holding a pregnancy test complete with two, bright, bold blue lines. I cried. Wife cried. The child had no idea why we were crying and asked for Play Doh. The dog tried to lick the pregnancy test. It was a surreal moment.

*Sigh*

The dog. Yeah, so…. Remember when I said my life generally tends to go awry when things are otherwise swimmingly good? Well…. If you recall back to when we learned that our first delivery from the stork was on her way, you’ll remember that we had a real “circle of life” sadness-brings-joy experience. My then-fiancée’s dog Rasta, well, his time on this earth was coming to an end. Within two days of having to make the excruciating decision to send him off to chase squirrels in Dog Heaven, that pregnancy test came back positive.

(Oh no… I see where this is going.)

Sadly, you do. I’ve always said that one of God’s cruelest tricks was making our pets’ lifespans shorter than our own. My beloved dog Memphis, who had carried me from the worst point in my life seven years ago to the best, was fading. This time, however, our loving and loyal canine hung on until after we learned that my wife was pregnant a second time. And almost immediately thereafter, we had to send her off to be reunite with Rasta. (You can read all about my special pup HERE.) So here we were, once again facing what should be an over-joyous occasion with bittersweet sadness. Because, you know, it’s me, and that’s just how it goes.

Oh, and did I mention that we had a long-planned family vacation to the US Virgin Islands planned for days later? One we’d now be taking through a coronavirus-scarred landscape of peril and doom? Yay! Vacation on three airplanes through four airports, twice in six days! Oh my rapturous jo— HOLY CRAP WHAT ARE WE DOING I CAN’T BELIEVE WERE STILL GOING TO…

(Dude. Breathe.)

*Inhales*

(Exhale too, stupid.)

*cough cough exhale cough cough*

Okay, so here’s the thing; We researched and took every precaution, including having readily available hand sanitizer in every bag we carried, plus Clorox wipes, plus masks if needed, plus a stroller in which we could duct tape the kid to prevent her from touching every imaginable surface through every airport if necessary. We knew what to do, what not to do, and were ready.

(Lemme guess, Narrator: he was not ready.)

[Narrator: no the **** he certainly was NOT.]

Look, my wife is nothing if not pragmatic. She’s the grounding force to my anxiety. She did her homework, assessed the risks, and did everything she could to ensure her safety and that of our now-growing family.  And so did I. I boarded each plane first and wiped our entire row, including the windows and even the undersides of the buckle flaps, clean. If the kid touched something in the airport she got dosed with candy-apple scented hand sanitizer immediately.

And you know what?

The very next day after we left, the world bonkers six ways sideways. Schools closed. Major sporting leagues shuttered their arenas. States closed down non-essential services. Dogs and cats, living together, mass hysteria!!!

(I see what you did there, Dr. Venkman.)

Seriously. The world went nuts while we were gone. But… while it certainly put a damper on our getaway, it didn’t stop us from introducing our daughter to the ocean, eating some delicious seafood, and enjoying some sun and surf for a few days. At the time there was but one confirmed COVID-19 case in the entire USVI. If there was a place to be during this viral apocalypse, that was it.

We repeated the same cleansing rituals on the way home, and immediately upon our return went into self-imposed isolation as a precaution. [NOTE: At the time of this posting, quarantine has been in effect for 5,372 years. Or 3 months. Whatever.] I’m happy to say that we’re all healthy and safe, with none of us every exhibiting any symptoms… Except my wife getting the chills and having slight fevers and being exhausted all the time. For those following along at home, because, honestly, where else would be right now…. You should know that those just happen to be the same, tell-tale signs of pregnancy she experienced the last time.

So yes, we’re fine. We’re all fine here, now, thank you. How are you?

(Han Solo Star Wars reference. Nice.)

I thought you’d like that.

But…

Here we are. Expecting. In the middle of a global pandemic. Good times. My anxiety? Oh, well, you know. Baseline. All good. Fantastic, even.

(I’m sensing sarcasm.)

YOU THINK?????

But…

We’re expecting.

I’m gonna be a dad again.

*uncontrollable grin*

And then there were (gonna be) two.

“Two” be continued….