Monday, July 27, 2009

Bump Watch - Week 27

Also known as the week that food lost it's position as my number one priority... falling to second place behind HOLY CRAP I NEED TO TAKE A NAP.

This week was also Pioneer Week in Ogden. Tons of events were planned throughout the week and I participated in pretty much ZERO of them because I had important things to do. Like sleep, eat and complain about the heat. That's right, Pioneer Week also happened to be the hottest week in Utah this year. Because if it wasn't, what would I have to complain about?

Like the vast majority of Utah, both Benny and I got the 24th off to celebrate the big State holiday. We started the day riding our bikes to Kaffe Merc for some scones and a coffee for Benny and then headed down to the Kiwanis Pancake Breakfast. Because if there's anything I do well, it's put down two breakfasts. Benny, the champ, outdid me though... as he'd had breakfast BEFORE the scone and still took care of my leftovers.

Afterwards, Benny, KC and I met up with Kaylene and Gavin and picked a spot on the parade route to watch what would turn out to be a TWO. HOUR. PARADE. I'm sorry... I don't mean to complain (of course, I do) but had I known I was going to be sitting in a gutter for two hours, I maybe would have brought down a chair... or at the very least, a cushion to sit on.

This pregnancy stuff... I tell you, the uncomfortableness (if it's not a word, pretend that it is) I have all the time right now is NO JOKE. The last hour and 59 minutes of the parade were pretty much an exercise in futility as I tried to find a position that didn't make me want to cry or strangle a small child. Not because I'm in any pain or anything... it's just, well... have you ever gone for a ride on a camel?? Me neither. But I would imagine that being pregnant and trying to find any kind of comfortable position without the help of a cushion or, I dunno, someone rubbing my feet and feeding me chocolate while I sit on a bed full of feathers... is sorta comparable to riding a camel.

For 100 miles.

In the desert.

In August.

While being pecked to death by a rooster.

With rabies.

But, I digress...

Despite the lack of comfort in my chosen gutter along the side of the street in 90 degree weather, we had a good time. We even got to see the Budweiser Clydesdales as they pulled their cart up the street. Have you people SEEN the size of these horses? Finally, something to make me feel not so huge. I have since decided that all future pictures of me will be taken in front of or near a Clydesdale horse. It just seems like the right thing to do, seven months in.


27 Weeks!

In related news, it appears that my grand scheme of forgoing summer maternity clothes and simply wearing my skorts purchased at The Center of the Universe (Costco) has been derailed. Trust me when I tell you that the skort above is NOT supposed to be that short. And although Benny has lovingly tried to tell me that maybe it's time to suspend use of the skort for the summer, it takes a picture of me and the peice of fabric that used to be a knee-length skort, posing in front of a Budweiser Clydesdale for me to see the light.

And that light screamed: OMG! WHAT AM I WEARING? HOW DID I GO OUT IN PUBLIC LIKE THIS? MY EYES! MY EYES!!!!!
Ahem...

So, it appears the time has come for me to re-evaluate my closet. Sunday, I did just that and took all the non-pregnancy clothes (turns out, there's A LOT of them) and put them in storage... leaving just my maternity clothes so that I'm not tempted to sneak in an ill-advised skort for a quick jaunt to the market for ice cream and pickles.

So, besides the uncomfortableness and the realization that a whale in a skort simply CANNOT pull off sexy and cute anymore, what else?

Well, there's the extreme fatigue that I feel down to my bones. Sersly... I was never this tired in the first trimester. I cannot get over how every. single. second. of the day, all I can think about is how great a nappy-poo would feel right about now.

The best part about it is that Benny's feeling it, too. So it must have something to do with sympathy pregnancy pains and the heat. And I love him for it. In fact, when we were down at the parade, it was he that looked like he'd hit a brick wall and needed to take a nap. I felt that this was a bit of a victory on my part... him being the first to admit defeat and ask to go home. Even though I was just about to wave the white flag myself.

I've also had kind of a melancholy, emotional week... I don't know why. Or, rather, I do know why. But choose not to talk about it because it's SO INCREDIBLY STUPID. I will tell you that it's caused me a lot of anxiety... which upsets me because I know - even now, I KNOW - that pre-pregnancy, I wouldn't have given it a second thought. I'm not an anxious individual. I don't do anxiety. I try to live by the motto of "Eh... don't worry about it!", said in my best Jersey voice.

But... I can't. It's like I've latched on to this idea in my head and no matter what I say or do... I can't let go. Finally, tonight, I talked with Benny about it. And he, too, felt that it wasn't something to worry about. That made me feel a little better. I suppose I'm just going to have to tell myself to GET OVER IT ALREADY, NADOLSKI.

Think that'll work?

It has to. It cannot be good for Tweet all this anxiety I'm feeling. Last thing I need is a kid who's anxious. As I said, I don't do anxious. I only do shiny, happy things. Like ice cream. With a shiny spoon in it.

And... that's where you'll find me tonight! At least it's not pickles, right?

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Speaking Of Ribbons...

So, I guess I shouldn't have bragged about the quality of sleep I've been getting lately. Because Karma, that nasty little deviant who clearly needs a job, had something to say about that. And I spent all of last night laying in bed... wide awake... in between potty breaks and bouts of 5 minutes of sleep.

I do believe that last night marked the first time that it hit me... it really hit me... that Benny and I were no longer the globe-trotting couple we've enjoyed being for the last six years. And HOLY COW... we're gonna be a family. And that means that we must both grow up. And always have veggies and fruit in the house. And have a house. And a job... that's no longer an option, is it? And start to stay Argh! instead of our preferred plethora of swear words. (And... FYI, 'tis better to say Argh in a pirates voice... gives more credence to your displeasure.)

Yes... all of this ran through my mind last night when I should have been in la-la land dreaming about food. Which explains why I was in my office at 7:45 a.m.. Sersly... WHO WORKS AT THIS INSANE HOUR OF THE DAY?

Surprisingly, work helped with the anxiety. And because she knows I lurve it, Tweet did what she could by kicking around in her temporary home. Apparently, we've got a soccer player on our hands. And not that I don't love soccer... but I've always been more of a climate-control athlete. Especially after I've witnessed Soccer Moms come home after a Saturday out in the rain or snow. I'm holding out hope that Tweet will figure out that with her God-given height (I'm calling 5-10 out of the womb) she'll be into volleyball. And yes, I'll support her in that sport even if she does wear ribbons in her hair to match the rest of her team... a HUGE pet peeve of mine. But playing in a gym where there's no such thing as a sunburn or frozen toes? TOTALLY WORTH IT.

And speaking of how tall our little Tweet is gonna be... I came home this afternoon to find that our very own Greyhound had sent Tweet (c/o me) The Tall Book.

How could he have known that I've been having dreams about birthing a full-grown woman?

The inside of the jacket reads:

Tall people:
Smart.
Wealthy.
Successful.
U.S. Presidents.
Oscar winners.
NBA players.
CEO's.

Scrunched into airplane seats.
Unable to find good clothes.

WHY?

In the book, the author, Arianne Cohen, attempts to unlock the mysteries at the center of talldom. Like, why do tall people succeed professionally, financially and intellectually far more than others? (Which makes me think that clearly, I can't be counted among the tall anymore... Or, am I just an outlier?)

Apparently, she travels from endocrinologists' offices to the annual European Tall Club Convention in search of answers. I wonder if she ever bothered to check the nearest farm as I'm convinced that farm girls grow like weeds cuz we eat so well. And so often. Something that will follow us throughout our lives and next thing you know, we get pregnant and eat the house.

The endocrinologist mention has intrigued me, because when I was born, I grew so fast that by the time I was something like 5 months old, my pediatrician told my mom that he thought there might be something wrong with me and sent her to an endocrinologist to take some blood. And, I think you can all imagine how 5-month-old's and needles get along, right? In fact, along with my pediatrician, my mother was getting pressured from her friends to check to make sure that I wasn't the next Andre' the Giant. The doc even asked my mom: What are you gonna do if she ends up being 6-7?

Apparently, love for your children - like your average roller coaster - has a height requirement? Anyway, mom told him what any mother would tell an idiot like this: "Well, I guess I'll have a 6-7 daughter. What would you have me do? Cut her off at the knees?"

And honestly, the only way that I could demonstrate how excited I was to get this book... besides the fact that I rushed to pour myself a fruit punch with soda water and lime... is to equate it to this:

YOU GOT ME THE TALL BOOK!!!!
OMG! OMG! OMG!!!


Thanks, Greyhound! You're the best.

Bump Watch - 26 Weeks

There is no Week 26.

Because I ate it.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Bump Watch - 25 Weeks

Also known as the week that I ate everything in sight, Week 25 has come and gone.

As I may have mentioned before, I do believe I've entered the "uncomfortable" part of the pregnancy. It appears that the temperature in Ogden directly correlates with my expanding girth.. which is pretty much a perfect storm for a 6 month prego woman.

Which is why God, and Benny, invented... the basement. This is where I go to hang out and watch back episodes of The Unit with Benny. And in unrelated news, Tweet takes after her MaMa and doesn't so much like the sound of machine guns. For the love of Pete, use a silencer Snake Doc!

*Ahem*

The only thing that has made this week bearable are the adorable kicks that Tweet dishes out morning, noon and night. Even better is when she gives a kick big enough to move Benny's hand. A lot of people have asked me if I have a hard time sleeping when she kicks around down there, but they don't seem to understand that right now? I can sleep anytime, anywhere and for any amount of time. And the sleep is deep, deep, DEEP.

In fact, I do believe that for the first time in six years, I haven't been awakened by a Benny freak out in the middle of the night at least twice a week. This? This is HISTORIC.

I have a very strong feeling that our little Tweety is going to be VERY well taken care of (read: spoiled) by my parents (first time grandparents-to-be!).

But, this week, my mom and dad spoiled us by purchasing Tweet's crib... which will also be her toddler bed and her first bed! I guess they may have been worried when we told them that Tweet was going to share a bed with Bailey?

Benny and I set it up in the nursery and put some of the wall decals for decoration. We're not posting any pics yet, as we want to be able to show the room as a whole when it's done. But trust me, it's perfect for us and for Tweet. Not that she's going to care one way or the other for the first couple of years... but it's important to us since we are going to be the ones up late at night feeding her and changing the sheets of her crib when she has a blow out. Oh, yes... we've heard ALL. ABOUT. THAT from everyone. Thankyouverymuch. I don't know if this is meant to warn us as to the hazards of having a baby... but at this point, don't you think that that particular warning is a little. bit. late?

We also decided to bite the bullet and register at Babies-R-Us... a.k.a.: The Place Where Paychecks Go To Die. I mean, have you SEEN the prices on some of the stuff they have there? Tweet's going to have nicer furniture in her room than we have in ours!

So, yes... registration was fun. Now, granted... I don't know a lot about babies. In fact, my knowledge is basically limited to the horror stories of blow-ups and projectile vomit that our friends (and complete strangers!) have felt the need to share with us in this, our time of JOY. But, even I knew that going through the registration process was going to be more of a marathon, than a sprint. I packed apples, granola bars and hydration plan in the form of a huge water bottle that we would BOTH need for our little excursion into baby madness.

Benny... dear, sweet, naive Benny was gung-ho for the registration process and came out of the gates entirely too quickly. We made it through the nursing section and infant safety care section just fine. But our intrepid hero was stymied at the bottle section. I mean... REALLY.... how many bottles and bottle package choices MUST THERE BE? Is it possible we're making this TOO special? Especially for two complete rookies who never even thought of consulting their friends with children... cuz that's just how we roll. After about 30 minutes of staring blankly at the wall of bottles, we finally tracked down a helpful employee who pretty much saved our lives.

But the damage had already been done as Benny had run face-first into a wall in the middle of his sprint. When looking at rattles and other "toys" he repeatedly told me that I was overthinking it and to JUST PICK ONE ALREADY! But, honestly... if I don't like the sound of a particular rattle that I will be hearing for the next oh.. FOREVER.. of my life, why would I choose that one?

I repeatedly offered the man a granola bar or some water... but nothing having, he went in search of the perfect jogging stroller.

HAVE YOU PEOPLE ANY IDEA THE PRICES ON THESE THINGS? And the fact that we needed to register for a regular stroller AND a jogging stroller? I heard my next paycheck crying in protest. Guess we won't be eating for the next year or so.

Luckily, at hour 2 of our debacle in B-R-U, we ran into a particularly helpful employee who took us through each of the remaining items on our list so that a potential 5 hour process only ended up taking 3 hours. She singlehandedly saved our marriage.

As far as everything else... pretty much everything is status quo. The acid reflux still gives me fits if I miss a dosage. I still have to pee every 10 minutes. Benny is still doing whatever he can to make my life easier and I love him more and more every day for it.

If I ever teach my baby girl anything of value in this lifetime, it's to BE PICKY. And to make sure that the man she falls in love with and hopefully marries treats her like a queen and that she is an equal partner in the relationship. I hope that Tweet will be able to see the true love that her father and I have not only for each other, but for her.

This will be the greatest gift I can ever give her.


Week 25!!

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Learning The Hard Way

Dear Jaynee,
We were so thrilled that you and Benny decided to go for a nice bike ride along the river this weekend. I mean, the last time you actually rode a bike was about 9 months ago, so this was HUGE. And, we share in your excitement as we know that this was the first bike ride Tweet has taken!

And, we agree that it's a shame that in your quest to see a Kingfisher on your ride, that you were once again STIFLED by that mythical beast. We also agree with you that no matter how many "friends" and "husbands" swear they've seen a Kingfisher down on the river, until you see one for yourself, they simply don't exist and everyone else is LYING.

*Ahem*

However, since you're about 6 months along in the pregnancy (which means that WE are also six months along) we thought we might offer some advice.

THIS....
















Is NOT okay.

A reminder, you're SIX MONTHS PREGO... and things are starting to widen and loosen up down in our neck of the woods. You no longer have a nice booty that can accommodate this type of seat. And you may not get that booty back for a while. The booty cannot be controlled and has a mind of it's own. Trust us. We've tried reasoning with it to no avail. If you continue to ride this type of seat, we can predict nothing but pain, agony and a healthy dose of humility. And no one wants that.

Now, THIS.....










Is more like it.

Considering what you're going to put us through in about three months, we feel that it's only fair that you baby us until you have your baby. Consider it practice for the REST OF YOUR LIFE.

Unless you'd like a repeat of Sunday night's pain in your derriere, you'll take our advice.

Sincerely,
Your Sits Bones and Greater Surrounding Community

Friday, July 10, 2009

Bump Watch - 24 Weeks

Week 24 was an interesting week. For starters, the acid reflux - which had been, for the most part, controlled by the miracle that is Zantac - kicked things up a notch. The directions for Zantac say that you should take it every 12 hours... but my body was demanding a dose every 9-10 hours. Which made waking up in the morning super fun. Take my word for it... waking up from the feeling of vomit in the back of your throat does NOT make for a great day.

Luckily, at our 24 week check-up, my doc - who I shall call Dr. MyNewBestFriend - listened to my complaints about the acid reflux and wrote me a prescription for something stronger. Oh, and did I mention that it's PRESCRIPTION? Which means that I can get like 50 of them for $8. Cha-Ching!

This week, Tweet started testing out the legs a little bit... which resulted in some seriously sweet and lovable kicks. My secret pleasure out of this whole pregnancy (besides the "I will have dessert anytime and anywhere I want because I'm pregnant" card that I carry around in my purse) are these movements that I feel from time to time. Trust me that nothing makes me feel more bonded to my baby girl than these soft (and sometimes NOT. SO. SOFT) movements. If we could just train her to stay away from my liver, things would be even better!!

A couple of times Benny was able to share in this joy when he happened to have his hand on the belly and she gave a good kick... like she was telling him: "Hey Papa! I'm here! And the nursery looks GREAT!"

I'm savoring these moments because it's just something that only Benny and I get to know about and feel. But I know that there will come a time... possibly in the very near future... that she'll be moving around so much that even the stranger ahead of me in the line at the grocery store will get to feel her move... and that just can't compare to the secret that I'm carrying around in my heart and my belly right now.

We had some excitement in the house this week when the LaPan's and their pups moved in for a few days. It was so great to hang out with them on their "vacation". Benny took them - er... destroyed them? ran them into the ground? made them cry? - on a massive hike up to Malan's Peak on July 3rd. I've never been up there, but Benny's promised that once Tweet's born and the weather warms up, he's taking us both up. After I saw the Lapan's, Supa, Emily and the dogs stumble back to the house that day, though... I may be having second thoughts.

The next day, we all hiked Waterfall Canyon. Er... they hiked and I had their dog Abby pull me up. It was beautiful and I'm glad that I did it. And if I had a camera that didn't get stage fright every time a good pic was to be had, I could have really taken some awesome pics.

And, as expected, my round ligament (or as Shane likes to call it: my rubber band) was barking that night. But it was totally worth it.

That night, we went down to SLC to hang out with the Supa's and listened to the fireworks all over the city. But don't feel bad for us... I mean, the 4th of July is only one of thousands of celebrations that Utah has in the summer months where it's citizen's get to either enjoy a good showing of things getting blown up, or cut out the middle man and simply blow stuff up on their own. Trust me... we've got until Aug. 3rd until this madness stops.

In fact, the next night, our neighbors invited us over to watch their kids set off Costco fireworks in the middle of the street, so Tweet got to experience her first fireworks show in an intimate setting surrounded by friends and family. Very cool.

Tweet also got to experience her mother's skillful gardening hand that day, and may I just say: Jaynee 2, Crabgrass 0? Oh, and may I also apologize to the thorny bushes that I may have gone overboard on trimming? What can I say? This is why Benny doesn't let me do his hair. The good news is, like his hair, the bushes will (probably... eventually) grow back. Until then, may I again remind you: Jaynee 2, Crabgrass 0!!!

I started yoga this week and have to admit that it's pretty cool. First, I'm in the class by myself. It's like I have my own personal yogini... all for $10. Secondly, when I got in the Cobbler's position and looked down I was BLOWN AWAY with how big the belly is. I cannot believe it will get bigger. And yes, yes... I know all of you out there are getting ready to comment: "Oh, girl... YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH WORSE IT CAN GET." But, please... just let me have this moment in my fantasy world of "It won't get bigger than this, it can't get bigger than this. I need a doughnut."

The yoga class was great, and I intend to keep going until my baby girl greets the world with a healthy scream.

Until then...

Symptoms
- I am running a teeny, TINY bit hot. Luckily, Benny got right on the swamp cooler at the first sign of me complaining about it and now we keep our house cold enough to hang meat. Poor Benny.... he's so cold all the time right now. I've nicknamed him Ice Cube after he jumped in bed the other night and I had to cuddle up next to him because I'm pretty sure he had just come from the North Pole and was just the right temp for me. He also hates getting out of bed in the morning, because apparently it's really cold. Offensively so. I'm not sure I believe this but that's why God invented sweatshirts, right?

- Still with the constant peeing? Yep.

- If I'm even a minute late taking my Zantac, I want to die.

Complaints
- My feet are just plain huge right now. And dry. No amount of lotion will fix this. The hands are still swollen as well... but I've managed to get my ring back on. I felt naked without it.

- Learning how to maneuver with this new body is HARD. Every day seems to bring a new experience on how my body continues to grow outside my security zone.

- Workout clothes that fit a month ago are NO BUENO now. When we hiked up to Waterfall, I wore the exact same outfit as when we hiked it on Memorial Day. The pics that I saw of myself were distressing. I'm THAT pregnant woman... the one who keeps trying to fit into her pre-pregnancy workout clothes. Time for an update to the workout apparel. GREAT. More. Money.

Cravings
- There is seriously not enough watermelon in the world to satisfy me.

- Prescription-strength Zantac.

Smells I Can't Stand
- Still with the corn? Yep. And the peanuts? Yep. And the vinegar? You betcha.

Bonus Features
- Benny was able to get out of work on Wednesday for our 24-week appointment. We got to hear the heartbeat again and the doc says that Tweet is growing perfectly.

- Tweet gave a big hard kick the other day... big enough to make Benny's hand jump!

- Yoga helped tremendously and I'm continually surprised that I'm not having more back pain than I have. Given my history with siatica and hip movement, I've been expecting this to be a problem. Cross your fingers because it hasn't yet! Woo-hoo!

- My hair is so shiny and full right now... and it's not falling out!!


Week 24

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

To My Girls

Jaynee and I are scheduled to meet with our doctor tomorrow for our 24-week checkup. They plan to listen to Tweet's precious little heart beat, measure her growth and check on Jaynee's overall health. I love going to our appointments because we always leave with new information, and we tend to make that information the center of our attention for the next four weeks. That is, until we meet with our doctor again and she gives new information on the health of our baby girl.

As the father I find it easy, especially during the early months of the pregnancy, to feel left out of the process. I'll never get to experience the emotions of being a mother, and I'll always have a different kind of bond with our children. This certainly doesn't make my role as a father less important. Quite the contrary in fact. But it does make our experience different.

I'm not sure what other expectant fathers feel during pregnancy, but I know that I've felt a deep desire to prove myself worthy of fatherhood. To prove not only to myself, but to Jaynee and our unborn Tweetie Pie that I have everything it takes to be a wonderful father.

Early in our pregnancy I made a vow that I wouldn't miss a single doctors appointment. I made that vow partly to keep myself involved in our pregnancy, but also to prove to myself, to Jaynee and to Tweet that I'd always be there for them, which is why my latest decision was so difficult to make.

Tomorrow is our 24-week appointment and I'm going to miss it. Why, you ask? Because I MUST work. There is a project at work that requires my attention. I've struggled with this decision since I found out about the conflict. I had hoped desperately that the conflict would resolve itself, but alas, it hasn't.

This was a really difficult decision for me to make. On one hand, I want to keep my commitment to myself and to my family. I want to be involved in the pregnancy every step of the way. I want prove to my girls that I will be there for them when they need me. But on the other hand, I know in my heart that my girls KNOW that I will always be there when they need me, and that I have everything it takes to be a wonderful father. I also know there is a lesson to be learned from this difficult decision.

As much as I want to believe that I'll always be by their side, there will be days that I will fall short. There WILL be days that I will fail as a father. I hate this realization and I hate having to make this decision.

On one hand, I hate choosing work over my girls. I hate missing a single moment of our pregnancy. I hate being absent when Jaynee wants my support. I hate the fact that Jaynee will hear her heartbeat by herself. I hate the fact that Jaynee will feel excitement and joy about our little girl, but she won't have anyone to share it with. I hate making this decision. I hate, I hate, I hate!

I hate missing out on our little girls life!!!!!!!!

I'm beside myself about this decision. But at the same time, I know there will be times when I MUST work. I know there will be times that I can't be there. I know there are going to be more important times when I MUST be there. I know that despite my absence at the appointment tomorrow that I am, and always will be a wonderful father. I know this is a simple decision, and I know the consequences of my decision will affect me and me only. But for some reason, these facts don't make this decision any easier, which is why I have chosen to re-state my committment to Tweet and Jaynee.

To my girls, whom I love and cherish with all of my heart, I make this commitment; there will be times that I am late and times when I am absent, but when the moment comes and you need me most, I promise to love you, to cherish you, to guide you and support you.

I am your father and your husband, ALWAYS. Though I may be late, or at times absent, you can always count on my love. My love is yours to hold, to cherish and to share. I give you this gift not because I have to, but because I want to. My heart compels me to give of myself for the betterment of you. You are my wife and my daughter, ALWAYS.

May my heart and my love be with you, ALWAYS.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Our New Normal

As an expectant father I've been told countless times that "your life will change forever." I'm not sure why, but this seems to be the most common advice we receive. Perhaps it's the magnitude of the change that makes this advice so worthy of sharing? Or the awkward silence it seems to fill while people reminisce their pre-child freedom. No matter the reason, this tidbit of advice seems ever-relevant and worthy of dispensing ad nauseum.

While I appreciate and invite advice from family and friends, I must admit that I'm frustrated by the topic of "change". Jaynee and I, unlike some procreating couples, considered our decision to start a family very seriously. I won't discuss our reasoning here, but suffice to say that we knew our decision would require change and that our lives would never be the same. We know that our future holds more uncertainty than ever. But in spite of that change and uncertainty, we decided to have Tweet. In other words, as much as is possible, we are ready for the change and uncertainty that lies ahead. Let me explain.

Jaynee and I have lived wonderful lives. Most importantly, we've lived wonderful lives together. Our marriage has been nothing short of euphoria. We love each other more than we ever thought possible. We often wonder why we're so blessed to have each other, then wonder if life can possibly get any better. Then along comes Tweet and our lives seem to get better and better each day. Each day seems a little different that the last, but more importantly and without fail, today is always better than yesterday.

For those who know me well, this constant euphoria is the backbone of my belief. I believe with all my heart that happiness in life is infinitely and positively linear. This means there is no limit to our happiness, no limit to our dreams and no limit to our love.

Perhaps you agree with me, or perhaps you don't. But one thing remains; the happiness in my life, in Jaynee's life, in our marriage, and soon in Tweet's life is infinitely and positively linear. However, this pattern of linearity will require change. For today to be better than yesterday, then today MUST be different than yesterday.

So yes, when Tweet arrives our lives will inevitably change. Our lives "will never be the same." But as many of you have said, "life will change for the better." We know in our hearts that Tweet is an outward manifestation of our happiness, our dreams and our love. She is the twinkle in the light of our future and our happiness.

With that said, we welcome this change with our hearts and arms wide open. Tweet has found her way into our hearts, and each day we dream of the day when she finds her way into our arms. So for those that have offered us advice, I offer you this:

You are right.

When Tweet arrives our lives will never be the same, because our arms will finally be filled with the love that is in our hearts. For this reason we welcome the change and uncertainty that lies ahead. Let there be no doubt, there will be struggle beyond measure and heartache without limits, but in the end our hapiness and the happiness of Tweet will be infinitely and positively linear.

So when we welcome Tweet into our arms, may she be happy beyond measure, filled with boundless dreams and blessed with limitless love.

This is my only desire. This is all I ask for my darling daughter.

I love you Tweet and I look forward to holding you in my arms.