The Great Keeling-Keller Clean Out

I guess some people call this "nesting." I call it "I-can't-fit-another-pair-of-underwear-in-my-drawer-or-another-shirt-in-my-closet-how-will-we-fit-a-baby-in-our-house?" clean out. I imagine it's some sort of uncontrollable urge to clean out a space to sort of prepare a nest for the new baby--or to tie up loose ends of old projects and organize my life before chaos ensues. I would imagine that it sort of puts me in control of something since there's a TON I cannot control right now. (Like, the six hour nap I took yesterday.)
Seems like a primal instinct, I guess.
I also equate it to happening later on in the pregnancy...like two weeks before the baby is due demanding that we clean out the entire garage or eliminate our belongings down to 100 like this guy, Dave. You know, something slightly or totally irrational. Apparently some women have reported throwing away their sheets and towels because they felt the need to have brand new, clean linens at home. I even read that women have taken apart the knobs on kitchen cupboards, so they could disinfect the screws attached to the knobs. What?? All I want to do is have space to put the little tiny things that are about to be folded in with our regular items.
And so, the Great Keeling-Keller Clean Out began.
We were diligent and persistent like Sylvester Stalone in his famous blockbuster film series.

I mean, look at that giant pile of shoes/clothes/books/what-have-you on the floor behind Dan. We discovered we were willing to part with a carload of items by the time we loaded Dan's Honda and drove it to the good ol' Goodwill.
Some items were informational and could not be parted with--actually, the "Book Reduction Phase" was the most difficult, but Dan donated a bunch of his childhood books to the middle school library and I gifted poetry, educational theory and favorite novels to friends. This was a book that will continue to collect dust on our shelf, for now. It was just too good to pass up or pass along.

Then there were the sentimental items in storage. I was ready to ditch the pile of plaques, trophies, certificates, and what-have-yous. However, I made one fatal mistake: I posted a picture and a question to my fb friends. I asked what the shelf life for accolades was. I found out a girl can never part with memorabilia from 1993. Not even if that is an MVP for the JV volleyball team.  Or 1995's award for French Composition. (Seriously? Who does that?)

They live to see the light of another day. I guess these will reside in my home when the little one arrives--unless I get some irrational urge to wipe my history from memory. All I can say is that I hope that little babe never watches the home videos of those junior high band nights, because I am certain that those would not confirm that I ever deserved the Jared Eslinger Music Award.


After the first round of the Great Keeling-Keller Clean out, I am happy to show you the biggest accomplishment:

Baby hates chess

This is an oldie but a goodie:



Apparently, these are in a book everyone should own. You may have stumbled across them before.

These brought a tear to my eye, in a good way. Ask Liz, and she might say I was hysterical.

What's in a name?

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Oh, Juliet. 
A Rose is a Rose, if that's its name. 
This is just one reason why thirteen year-olds should not be allowed to reproduce. What would they name their babies? Seriously.



The Great Name Debate has begun.
 Actually, at our house it's more like a brainstorm session.
Starting early is a good idea because if we can't live with a name idea for two months, how are we going to live with it for the rest of our lives? And will the child live with it for the rest of its life?There's a little bit of pressure to come up with a good solid name that will come to identify a person forever. As an English teacher, I feel that there is particular pressure to have a name that is slightly unique, but very hip and totally meaningful/symbolic. I try not to think about it too much, really. 
We have been trying to have a little fun with every part of the process. We began to compile a list of names on a sheet of paper hanging on the fridge back in November. Since then, there have been a few drops (Simone and Mason) and a few adds. Nothing too definitive yet.


One night, with our heads resting on our pillows we went through half of the alphabet blurting out names that we liked that began with each letter. Dan's were a little more serious than mine surprisingly.
Dan: A--Adam
Liz: B--Boutros 
Dan: C--Calvin
Dan: D--Dylan
Liz: E--Ebenezer
I believe we tried to combine our mother's names when we got to "P". Patella didn't quite have the right ring to it and I couldn't get Dan to dig Maurice. He couldn't get me to fall in love with George. And so the Name Game continues.


My rules are this: 

• The name needs to be meaningful and versatile. It has to be an appropriate name for a baby, a teenager, and an adult. It has to be cool enough to turn into a rock star and sophisticated enough to run a Fortune 500 company.
• It needs to sound alright with Keller--no rhyming, and I am initially opposed to alliterative names, too. (Good thing we are starting early, because nearly every name Dan picks out is alliterative! His argument: look at the Kennedys. Good point. I just need time for it to grow on me.)
• The name can't have any negative association or a terrible nickname. (I can come to terms with kids finding something with every name if they really try, but I don't want to choose a name that has inherent issues.)
• Oh, and it has to sound cool following this algorithm: 

We know we'll be consulting the family trees for most of our inspiration...and we haven't taken time to do that yet. So, I know our lists are about to change drastically. For now, I'll show you a little glimpse at the lists. Feel free to add your own ideas if you like or comment on what you think. Don't forget that in order to make it on the list, the name has to comply with the rules listed. Who knows?! We might actually consider the name you suggest.
Girls
Viviana
Caroline
Gwendolyn
Guinnevere
Elizabeth
Orphaline
Margaret


Boys
Jackson
Calvin
Arlo
Ezekiel
Adam
Xander
Oliver
Dylan
Maxwell


p.s. Sorry, Nick, we really aren't considering Nicholas James or Nicola Jamesetta! (Though I am flattered and honored that one of your baby names was Hannah Elizabeth.)
And, to Justin: I couldn't get Jay or Justina to land on the list, man.

Taking a look inside baby (and all of us)

This video, mentioned on GeekDad, caught my attention today.  It's a fascinating look into what is happening at a molecular level to our cells.  Right now, this is going on inside Liz and our baby (and me for that matter!) and it is awesome.

Yes, we have little machines inside us.
The fact that there are people out there examining these processes and mysteries comforts me.  I am not a scientist, but if my kid became one, I'd be pretty damn proud.

Flu shot ≠ Immunity ≠ Shrinking Baby

The doctors told me to get a flu shot.

I got a flu shot.

Two months later, I got the flu.

I didn't get it for 3-4 days; I only had to deal with it for 24 hours. Thank God. Thank the universe. Thank the happy and helpful fetus cells working in my body. (Which, BTW, the thyroid tests show might be helping to balance my TSH and my free T4. Rock on, baby!)

We had an appointment for our ultrasound and went despite the fact that I had only consumed 3 oz. of fluids in 12 hours. The nurse line said shoot for 4. I didn't think it could be that difficult. And, about two hours before the appointment, I felt like telling Dan "I am in hell. This is hell." Because I felt like the guy in this video. (Warning: not for the faint of stomach.) Of course when I told him about it later he knew I was recovering because my sense of humor tends to resurface after the worst part of a situation has passed.

Anyway, I was nervous that I was going to have to step on the scale in the office because I didn't want the doc to give me another lecture about losing weight (I lost 3# through the holidays). I don't know of any other time that I was nervous about losing weight...I guess there are a lot of firsts during pregnancy.

The calendar says we are 16 weeks, 3 days along. The baby says we are 16 weeks, 5 days along. Good to know that even though I hadn't eaten anything in 15 hours, that little one is still growing. The blogs say the baby should weigh in at about 5 oz.; ours tips the scale at 6 oz. (I hope that doesn't calculate out exponentially over the next five months. Yikes!)

The ultrasound technician was gentle with me as she poked around to get images of our baby bundle. We really got to see a lot this time--obviously there was a lot more to look at since the pictures at 7 (egg sack) + 10 weeks (a sea horse with a human skull). Dan was enthralled with the whole thing since he got to see the baby wave its arms and wiggle around during the 40 minute prodded photo shoot. We could see the spine, ribs, stomach, bladder, heart (which now has clear chambers--that were pumping at 152 beats per minute), tiny baby arm bones and face profile. The nurse thought this image was cute since you could see the face:


I, admittedly, was a little freaked out by the ginormous eye sockets. I was assured by the expert that this is normal. I'll just say an extra prayer that our baby doesn't end up looking (or acting) like this:



The technician did ask if we wanted to know the gender. I have always said that was Dan's call. I figure that I made decisions about this baby every single day--what I eat, what I do, what I feel, etc. He said he didn't want to know and she moved the magic wand away from where she was. So, she didn't go "there." Dan admitted that he was intent on the screen during the entire exam. Right after we left the exam room he asked me if I thought I saw "anything". I laughed and told him I thought she avoided the legs on purpose so that we wouldn't find out. So, for now, we have a little adorable little baby that looks like this:

What an cute little button nose!

A letter from the Human Decency League

Today, my lovely wife and mother of my fetus brought my attention to a lovely article about our lovely school district.

Apparently, there is a "league" of people (at least two so far!) that want anti-homosexual propaganda to be "available" in school. Or they will sue. And they want to promote free speech by upholding district policies that specifically curtail it.  Oh, and they will totally sue!  Did I mention they will sue?  They sure did.

"The spectre of a lawsuit came up at least five times as they read a three-page statement."

I know this is a blog about our journey to becoming overjoyed and underprepared parents, but this matters.  Here's why: We are bringing a child into this and I can barely handle it!

Every time I read about or see or smell some crazy religious person ranting and raving and attempting to bring logic and "the Constitution" (always leaving out the "my interpretation of" part out) I have to sigh and wonder what it is all for.  This is someone who obviously has some messed up priorities, but it seems so widespread.  Instead of reality, relentlessly asserting it's dominance over our lives, these people are more concerned with some imaginary, unknown, unproven, unlikely scenario that occurs after you have eaten one too many double bacon cheeseburgers and have a massive cardiac event while driving your SUV, careening into a school bus stop full of kids reading their pamphlets on how being an "ex-transgender" is super fun!

Side note: I like that it's called an "event."  It makes me think I can get tickets.

I think one of the best nuggets of insight I've seen on this whole phenomenon has been from Penn Jillette, who recently spoke about the whole idea of religion being important for leaders and the "Christian" movement in America.

"I stick up for Mormons.  I mean, Mitt Romney is wearing crazy underwear.  He’s wearing magic underwear.  He is.  I mean, under his pants, he is wearing magic underwear.  Magic underwear.  And he believes that a convicted con man got golden tablets that no one else could see, and sat with an angel to find out that the original Jews of the Bible were living in North America.  Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy.  But… just more modern, not more crazy, than other religions.  Not more crazy than Islam, you know, with your… not more crazy than virgin births and resurrections.  Not more crazy than any of that stuff."

I've always been a fan of Penn.  He can blow hard when I cannot, and I love him for it.  We need a few more on our side.  He also named his kids Zolten Penn Jillette and Moxie Crimefighter Jillette.  Awesome.

So, how does this relate to our baby blog?  Not sure, but I feel a little better knowing that it's not just the shadowy "leagues" of hate-mongers out there.  There are some people who actually believe in the here and now and want to make it as good as it can be, because it's all we have.

P.S.  I know some of you will get upset and say, "Religion is good and we volunteer our time and help the poor and such!"  That's great.  I love that people give of themselves for the betterment of others.  Just think how much more betterment would get done without all the convincing-people-to-believe-the-crazy-stuff-we-were-convinced-to-believe stuff.  So much more time and energy to spend on the work at hand.

Lion + Goat + Snake = Baby

Last night, I read an article about how the baby is actually giving me fetus cells and I have stem cells floating around from the beginning of the first trimester. That doesn't seem so shocking, but the article also claimed that the baby's cells might continue to circulate in my system for the rests of my entire life. Which means I will forever actually BE part of my child (and vice versa, obviously, as it is taking everything it needs from me). I guess when more than one person's cells mingle in one individual, it's called microchimerism. The word is derived from the Greek Chimera. It describes any mythical animal with parts "taken from various animals"--and also implies an impossible or foolish fantasy. 
I can only hope that our baby doesn't end up looking like this:

The fact that this unborn child is stripping my blood of what it needs and developing its Dad's cells as well makes this dude's tribute to his mother all the more real: Biologist's Mother's Day Song. 
What is surprising is that these cells include cells from Dad--which now means that it's possible that Dan is actually part of me (when I took marriage vows "until death due us part" didn't have the same meaning it does now)--and each embryo and fetus in my womb could be a part of every other embryo and fetus that has or will set up camp in there for four weeks or more. And those sibs may pass on cells to successive kiddos.
Of course I liked the idea that the good little fetal cells might be protecting me from some forms  of cancer, developing my immune system and increasing my body's resistance to certain diseases thanks to the cells from Dad--thanks, Dan! Let's hope this baby is full of goodness because my thyroid could use a little boost. But the part about the bad fetal cells wasn't all that settling. Turns out those fetal cells can cause cancer or can cause autoimmune diseases to worsen. Only time will tell if our bundle of joy was well behaved or angry while it set up shop in my uterus for nine months. (I guess I had better be particularly nice to it now. How can you bribe a lion/goat/snake thingy?)

Waste Containment - Part 1

So, Liz wanted me to become "obsessed" with cloth diapers.

I think I can do that.

First of all, I am fairly confident that using cloth diapers is less about saving money (probably won't happen), saving face (already derided) or saving the planet (maybe a little) than it is about how depressed we get when we see the industrial-sized boxes of Huggies at Costco. 228 diapers?! Per box!? How many of those would we need? How fast would we burn through them? The implications are frightening. Will I have to get one of those orange flatbed carts just to go diaper shopping? I'd rather be loading it with TVs and 48-packs of socks than with disposable padded bum-covers for catching my kid's loads.

Alright, cloth diapers it is... but where do I start? I have a few leads on brands from friends who have blazed the trail before me, but I like to research. Googling "cloth diapers" yields too many results to handle, though I look through the shopping links.

Green might be a good choice.

A few familiar brands show up: BumGenius, GrowVia, TrendLab... Wait, what the hell? There is a cloth diaper brand with "trend" in the name? This is troubling. Maybe white towels with diaper pins is the way to go. Sure, you'll risk stabbing your bundle of joy each time you wrap them up, but don't they absorb blood just as well? There are 7 billion people wandering the earth, and the majority of those born before 1970 didn't have the option of disposable diapers. Hell, I doubt the majority of the world's population had diapers at all.

But I digress. I am initially intrigued by the bumGenius One-Size Cloth Diaper 4.0 Snap because of the sheer amount of iteration it must have taken to get to a fourth major release! I wonder what new features and bug fixes will arrive with 4.1?

I wonder if the 4.0 label isn't just clever marketing aimed at 30ish tech-obsessed geeks, hell-bent on having the latest gadgets. Uh, oh - that's me. This might take a little longer than expected.