Word to the Y's

Say uncle!

2007-06-08T10:10:00.000-04:00

Just a quick note to tell the world that, in addition to being a new father, I'm also an uncle for the first time. My brother, David, and his wife, Merlie, just welcomed a baby boy to their family. They live in the Denver area, so it may be a while until "Little Elvis" meets his cousin.

Happy Mother's Day!

2007-05-13T19:12:00.000-04:00

Just a short post to wish Meredith and all mothers who read our blogs a very happy Mother's Day! Meredith is still traveling with D.J. in Mississippi, so I had to send her a Mother's Day card and gift in the mail. Nothing special, but I hope she knows how much she means to me and what a good mom I think she is. She and D.J. will return, along with her mother, on Friday, and I can't wait to see them all!

Being a bachelor again for the past week, I have been sleeping slightly better without the 4 a.m. changings and feedings. However, I haven't been getting much more rest as the cats, usually banished from the bedroom when the baby is around, have been sleeping with me. The big cat, Wally, has been waking me for his own feedings in the middle of the night -- all he needs to see is the silver in the bottom of his dish and he goes into panic mode.

Like father, like son

2007-05-11T22:14:00.000-04:00

What's your blood type? If you're like me (and I know I am!), you have no idea. I'm not sure how I survived 36 years on this earth without this basic knowledge, but I never had occasion to find out. If it was determined at birth, my parents either forgot or never told me and I've never been hospitalized since. I've tried to give blood in the past, but being a squeamish sort, never managed to progress much past the finger prick before nearly hitting the floor.

Anyway, recently there was a blood drive at my workplace and I summoned all my courage and signed up for an appointment. Meredith has been after me for a while to find out my blood type, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity. If Meredith was able to handle labor, the least I could do was donate a pint of blood and find out my own blood type.

Long story short (this is a blog after all), I'm A positive and I am a match for "Little Elvis."

I cried like a baby

2007-04-18T20:35:00.000-04:00

This past weekend we watched the movie "The Holiday" with Cameron Diaz, Jude Law and Jack Black. I won't spoil much of the story if you've not seen it (it wasn't a very good movie, so don't rush out to get this one), but one of the traits of the Cameron Diaz character was that she was unable to cry.

This character quirk reminded me of Little Elvis' delivery and the first few days in the hospital. If you recall, it was an emergency c-section and a pretty traumatic experience for everyone concerned. I was allowed into the operating room right before delivery. I was very worried for Meredith and the baby even before entering the O.R. and started crying a little bit when I saw the worry in Meredith's face. Once the baby was delivered and I heard his first cry, I too cried like a baby. Cathartic?!? You bet! I hadn't cried like that in years and it felt very good. I cried a couple days later while we were still in the hospital. I had written an entry in Little Elvis' baby book and tried to read it to Meredith, but got so choked up over my own writing that she had to read it for herself.

If I were a carpenter

2007-04-15T21:54:00.000-04:00

Maybe I should say, if I were a woodworker . . .

In any event, if I were either one, I hope that I'd be as generous with my talent as our family friend, Gene Wacyra, was to "Little Elvis."

Gene spent several weekends (I have no idea how many hours) producing this English-style rocking horse. The horse itself is laminated birch plywood, with a solid hardwood base and imported hardware from England. He put a tremendous amount of time, talent and money into this beautiful gift. Then to top it all off, he and his wife, Sue, drove all the way from Lodi, N.J., to bring the horse to us.

Words really can't describe how touched Mere and I were with Gene's generosity -- all I can say is that this rocking horse "really rocks!!!" You'll have to check Meredith's blog for some more photos of the horse.

Existential crisis averted

2007-04-08T07:47:00.000-04:00

Ever wonder what the meaning of existence is? What's the point of doing anything? If you do, you may be or might have been a philosophy major in college. When you study philosophy, to paraphrase Steve Martin (who studied philosophy at Cal State Long Beach), "you remember just enough to screw you up for the rest of your life." Another comedian who dabbled in philosophy in college is Woody Allen: "I was thrown out of college for cheating on the metaphysics exam; I looked into the soul of the boy sitting next to me."

I majored in philosophy in college, so I carry these existential questions around with me on a daily basis. I was also a physics major, and I believe that this discipline also carries with it a different world-view. Everyday things aren't just taken for granted -- whether it's the way light is reflecting from the tail lights of the car ahead of me in traffic to wondering whether bubbles in beer travel at a constant velocity. It's amazing, in fact, that I manage to get anything done.

If you ever feel like this, my advice is to have a child. It is so thrilling and wonderful to look at him every day. He gives meaning and purpose to my life. When Little Elvis cries, it means that he needs me and that is the only affirmation of my existence that I need. The meaning of life can be found at the bottom of a dirty diaper.

A month in review

2007-04-03T07:30:00.000-04:00

OK, so Little Elvis is almost two months old and I'm finally getting around to posting a compilation of video from his first month. Guess I've been too busy changing diapers and not editing all the cute video quick enough. Anyway, take a look and let me know what you think.

Push-ups and spit-ups

2007-04-03T07:28:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure if "Little Elvis" is ready for a rigorous exercise routine just yet -- he doesn't seem to have the stomach for it.

Quite a conversationalist

2007-03-30T09:49:00.000-04:00

So D.J. is only 6 weeks old and he's already quite a conversationalist. The other evening he told me all about the shopping trip he had been on that day.

My best friend at work

2007-03-30T08:19:00.000-04:00

I recently had to take a job satisfaction survey at work which included the question, "Do you have a best friend at work?" While I like my co-workers, I can't honestly say that I have a best friend at work. Thinking about it some more, I realized that I do have a best friend at work, largely due to my somewhat unconventional work routine.

You may remember that, long before the baby arrived, I was wondering what we would do about day care. Since I am a writer and most of my work is done on computer, I had proposed altering my work schedule such that I could tele-commute more and spend less time in the office. That plan was quickly dismissed, not by my immediate boss, but rather by his supervisor.

The long and the short of the story is that I've come upon a compromise that seems to work out for all parties. Little Elvis' overnight routine typically includes a feeding around 4 a.m. (I change him, Meredith feeds him). He's back up again around 7 a.m. Rather than putting him back in the co-sleeper after a changing and feeding, I take him out with me into the den. While he goes back to sleep in his basinette, I get online and start my work day. I manage to get in a couple hours of work and Mere gets to catch up on the rest she missed due to the overnight feedings. By 9:30 or so, he's ready to eat again so I take him back in to Meredith. I catch a shower and head into the office. Though it's not a perfect set-up, I feel I'm at least a little bit of help to Meredith on the child care front. Besides, spending some quality time with my little coworker allows me to honestly say that I do have a best friend at work.

Anyone else with child care/telecommuting success stories?

Play ball!

2007-03-21T19:22:00.000-04:00

"Little Elvis" is only five weeks old, but Mere and I have already had a discussion about which sports he will be encouraged to play. We want him to have fun and succeed, but most importantly we don't want him to sustain an injury that might hamper him the rest of his life.

I'm a big baseball fan (go Pirates!), so there's no doubt that I'll be playing catch with him as soon as he is ready. My father-in-law coached high school football and soccer for years and is an avid outdoorsman, so he's got his own preferences. Mere loves football (she's such a big Manning fan that she tried to sneak "Peyton Elijah" onto the baby name list) and thinks that "Little Elvis" will make an excellent place kicker for the Indianapolis Colts someday.

The only sport that is currently on the list of sports to be avoided is ice hockey. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy hockey (go Penguins!) -- in fact, it is probably my second favorite sport behind baseball. However, with the potential of broken noses, lost teeth and the overall expense of equipment and ice time, we'll try to steer "Little Elvis" in other directions.

Since he'll not likely play for the Stanley Cup, I took the opportunity today to put "Little Elvis" (or at least his picture) in the Stanley Cup today when it made a stop at my workplace.

So what sports are your kids involved with? Do you consider any to be particularly dangerous? Are there sports that you would discourage your children from playing?

He's the D.J., I'm the wrapper

2007-03-02T09:56:00.000-05:00

Hopefully, I'm not dating myself too much with the reference to the classic Will Smith rap album from 1988, "He's the DJ, I' m the Rapper." Yeah, you know the one with the song, "Parents Just Don't Understand."

Little Elvis is almost three weeks old, and I have yet to send out baby announcements. Before you think I'm the world's biggest slacker, let the record show that thank-you notes have been sent to those who sent gifts for the baby. In fact, they weren't just cards, but were customized postcards with the baby's picture and a hearty "Thank you . . . Thank you very much" from Little Elvis.

However, I've been a little behind in creating baby announcements. Meredith came up with the idea to use Hershey's candy bars (she'd seen it several times before), but rather than ordering them (just do a Google search and you'll find plenty of options), she knew that her cheapskate husband would want to make his own.

She was right -- it has just been a matter of finding time to design the Word document (mine is about 5" wide and 5 1/2" long), printing the wrappers and assembling the final packaging. Now it's a matter of getting them into the mail before the warmth of Spring rolls around (I don't want the announcements to melt en route).

What creative ideas do you have for baby announcements?

Daddy on doody-count duty

2007-03-02T08:12:00.000-05:00

It must be NCAA Men's Basketball tourney time, judging by the number of times the phrase "one and one" is used around the Swanson household. For non-basketball fans, "one and one" refers to the free throws awarded to an offensive player when a non-shooting foul is committed and the defending team is already over the limit of team fouls. More than you wanted or needed to know, right?

For baby fans, "one and one" refers to the contents of a dirty diaper. When we were still in the hospital and in the days at home immediately thereafter, we were asked to keep a record of feedings and changings. On the feeding side, we were asked to keep track of the start times of feedings as well as to monitor the number of minutes spent on each breast. On the changing side, we had to dutifully record each "doody." That is, keep track of whether it was a pee, poop or both, putting a checkmark in each column. In the days immediately after the birth, we also gave a visual description of bowel movements (noting, in particular, the yellow-brown meconium that was working its way through Little Elvis' system).

While we no longer have to keep and active record (our pediatrician said we could discontinue the rigorous count following the baby's first doctor visit) Meredith and I still use "one and one" as shorthand for what Little Elvis' bowels are up to.

Why didn't we do this sooner?

2007-02-27T20:26:00.000-05:00

I spoke with my aunt last night and she asked whether I feel different now that I'm a father. I didn't have much of an answer apart from saying that I wonder why we didn't do this sooner. Needless to say, I'm a very proud pop of "Little Elvis."

A lap has its limits

2007-02-25T20:13:00.000-05:00

As you've gathered by now, our cats, Slappy and Wally, are important members of the family. We were concerned a bit about how they would adjust to the addition of "Little Elvis" to the household. Of course, they've been exiled from the bedroom which took a bit of adjustment itself. After a few nights of pawing and meowing at our bedroom door, they gave up and now spend most nights in or around the baby's carseat (which we cover with a blanket when they're in it.)

While they've given up some of their "people time" at night, they still like to be near us as much as possible during the daytime. Just as Wally made room for Meredith's expanding belly during the pregnancy, he's also making space for the baby in Meredith's lap.

Getting the hang of diapering

2007-02-23T16:35:00.000-05:00

My name is Bob and I have never changed a diaper . . . (sounds like a 12-step program, doesn't it?)

Before Little Elvis arrived, I had never changed a diaper in my life, but now in just 12 days I have become and old hand at it. When I mentioned to a friend that I was going to a Babies R Us diapering class a few weeks before the baby's arrival, he laughed, but I'm glad I went. I picked up the basic mechanics and tips for making the task easier for parents as well as the baby.

One of the tips Meredith has already mentioned -- hanging a plastic shoe rack next to the changing table. Let me tell you from the perspective of a rookie diaper-changer, this is a great idea. With a naked, wriggling baby on the table, the shoe organizer keeps all the necessities (diapers, onesies, etc.) within easy reach.

My mother-in-law also made a nice addition to the changing table -- one of those collapsible open boxes that can be used as organizers in a drawer. This box comes in handy for holding items such as hand sanitizer, baby wipes, butt cream that are used during each and every diaper change.

Got any other tools or tips of the trade to share?

Little Elvis has just left the belly

2007-02-12T17:24:00.000-05:00

I’m definitely stealing Meredith’s thunder on the title for this blog – it was her idea. However, she can’t stop me as she’s sleeping soundly, recovering from the birth of “Little Elvis” early this morning.

First however, a little back story. We’ve been drawing ever nearer our due date of Feb. 17 (at least that’s what two sonograms have said, our OB office maintains a date of Feb. 25). Meredith’s mother, Janie, was in town for the weekend to help us put all the finishing touches on our pregnancy preparations. She was already booked to return next weekend for our Feb. 17 due date.

All that of course became academic this weekend, as Meredith woke me up around 6:30 on Saturday morning, complaining of contraction-like pains. She had actually been up since about 4:30 in the morning, but waited until 6:30 to wake me. For the rest of the morning, we started to keep a record of the time between contractions which seemed to range from 6 minutes to 15 and 20 minutes apart. To pass the time, we went shopping and out to lunch.

By mid-afternoon, the contractions, while still not in a rhythmic pattern, seemed to be more intense. Unsure whether or not this was really labor, we called our OB’s hotline and received a return call. Perhaps because of the variability in pregnancy from one person to another, I assume that an OB will err on the side of caution. Our OB recommended, after Meredith described what she was feeling, that we go into the hospital and at least have a nurse on duty examine her to see whether she was dilating or not. Turns out that, only a centimeter dilated, we weren’t close enough and should return home. The nurse gave Meredith a couple of Ambien to help her sleep through some of the contractions.

We returned home, slightly chastened by the experience, and spent the evening having a bite to eat and watching television. As the evening progressed, so did the regularity and intensity of Meredith’s contractions, eventually getting to the point that they would nearly take Meredith’s breath away. This is the point that the nurse had told us we would be well on our way and should return to the hospital. After a day of contractions, we figured this was it and headed again to the hospital. Again the doctor was called and again the nurse examined and again the verdict was only a centimeter of dilation, if that. Tempted to send us home again, but worried about the intensity of Meredith’s contractions and pain level, the nurse was instructed by the doctor to have us stay in the labor suite for another two hours to see if that would produce progress in the labor.

Sure enough, two hours later, Meredith had dilated to 3 centimeters and we were well on our way. However, she was in tremendous pain and there was still 7 centimeters to go before delivery would be possible. An epidural was ordered and Meredith was more than relieved when she could no longer feel pain, but only pressure from the contractions.

At this point, having been experiencing contractions for almost 24 hours, Meredith was pretty exhausted, as was my mother-in-law. The plan was for Meredith to get a few hours of sleep while she continued to dilate. As Meredith was snoozing, I would drive Janie back to the house so that she could get some shut-eye as well. Shortly after I returned to the hospital, everything changed in a hurry.

I’m not sure what caused it exactly, but while the epidural helped Meredith, it seemed to negatively impact the baby. At a 3 a.m. examination, Little Elvis’ heart rate was dropping sufficiently that the decision was made to break Meredith’s bag of water. The plan was for a resident to then implant a more sophisticated monitor directly on the baby’s head to get a better idea of what is going on. Unfortunately, readings were still fluctuating wildly after this procedure. Rather than risk any more strain on the baby’s condition, the decision was made to wheel Meredith to the operating room to prep for an emergency cesarean section.

This was pretty scary both for Meredith and I, as a lot was going on, but not a whole lot of information was being shared with us. While I had been part of the labor process, I couldn’t follow Meredith to the operating room immediately. This separation and uncertainty about what was going on and how much risk there was for both Meredith and “Little Elvis” was very tough for me. All I could do was to put on some scrubs, some shoe coverings and a face mask and wait outside the operating room for further instruction.

After what seemed like an endless ten minutes, I got the call and headed into the operating room, with the specific instructions, “Sit on the stool and don’t touch anything blue.” Meredith was on the table, with only her head visible above a curtain that hid a team of medical professionals feverishly working over her abdomen. She had a few tears in her eyes and I could tell she was scared – not so much for herself, but for the baby. All I could tell her was that the baby was going to be fine, though I had absolutely no idea what exactly was wrong. I just had to play the percentages that it would all work alright, and, sure enough, it did. Within minutes, I could hear our baby’s first cry and was in tears myself at the sight of him. “Little Elvis” left the belly at 3:46 a.m., Sunday, February 11, 2007 and weighed in at 7 lbs., 7 oz., measuring 20 ¾”.

Once he was cleaned up in the operating room, I was able to show him to Meredith (she couldn’t feel or move below her armpits due to the anesthesia). While the “closing” part of the surgery was going on, I went to the nursery with the baby though, in the rush to the operating room, I left my camera back in the labor suite. I spent a little time in the nursery just watching the baby – he was placed in a warmer to get him to the right temperature to be bathed. I went back to the labor suite to make sure that Meredith was resting comfortably as well as to retrieve my camera. It was going to be hours until Meredith would be able to hold the baby (her priority was to get some rest), so I wanted to get some video to show her. Turns out that this video was very handy, as it took the baby a little extra time to achieve the required temperature to be allowed out of the nursery. While Meredith’s mother was able to see the baby through the nursery glass, Meredith, bed-ridden for the entire day following surgery, didn’t get to see or hold the baby until around noontime – more than 8 hours after he left the belly and entered the world.

Goodness, gracious (I'm gonna be a dad)

2007-02-08T22:26:00.000-05:00

One of my first posts on this blog referred to my intention to write songs and stories for "Little Elvis." Well, all my good intentions could pave the road to hell . . .

In any case, I finally finished off a song that I started shortly after finding out that Meredith was pregnant. It started out as an attempt to capture the anxiety of being a father for the first time. However, as the pregnancy progressed and the song went unfinished, it also needed to include my increasing excitement in actually getting to meet our little boy. My excitement, as I've already detailed, includes buying him things that he won't be able to wear or use for months, if not years.

In any case, I debuted the song the other night as a surprise early Valentine's present for Meredith.

Here are the lyrics to the song:

Goodness Gracious (I’m Gonna Be a Dad) c 2007 Bob Swanson

My baby’s got some news she says I best sit down
She's got a smile on her face that I just can’t figure out
Is it a birthday, anniversary, occasion I’m forgetting
My knees begin to shake, hands they start to sweating
She says “Relax, honey” it’s not that bad
Goodness, gracious, I’m gonna be a dad

If I’m gonna be a dad, I gotta be a better person
Gotta get myself in shape, stop swearing, quit cursin
If I’m gonna be a dad I gotta be a role model
Got to cut back on the drinking, only the babe should hit the bottle
It’s more responsibility than I’ve ever had
Goodness, gracious, I’m gonna be a dad

Goodness, gracious, cross my fingers, thank my lucky stars
I’m so excited, never thought I’d get to say it
I even bought my boy a brand-new soccer ball guitar
And it’ll still be years before he gets to play it

We’ve got cases of baby food, we know we gotta feed ‘em
Every title Golden Book, we’ll prob’ly never get to read’ em,
Every type of baby wipe, just in case we ever need ‘em
We’re ready as can be and now we just can’t wait to meet ‘em
If it needed doin’, it’s done been did
Goodness, gracious, all we need is the kid
Goodness, gracious, all we need is the kid
(I’m singing) Goodness, gracious, all we need is the kid

Battle over the body pillow

2007-02-02T20:41:00.000-05:00

As you probably have figured out by now, I'm a bit of a shutter-bug when it comes to our cats, Slappy and Wally. Just imagine what I'll be like in a couple of weeks when "Little Elvis" arrives. For the moment, however, the felines are my focus. I couldn't resist this shot of them sharing Meredith's body pillow today.

Believe me, this is much cuter during the daylight hours. At night, it becomes a turf battle between Meredith, "Little Elvis," and the cats, primarily Wally. Slappy is usually content to sleep at my feet, but Wally likes to be close to Meredith and her belly, which typically is resting on the body pillow. Add in Meredith's extra trips to the restroom at night -- it's a nocturnal turf war.

How are the other pregnant moms and dads dealing with affectionate pets at night?

That's a good looking belly

2007-01-29T22:12:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure how serious she is, but Meredith seems to think she's too fat. At least, she seems to take some offense when co-workers say how huge she's gotten. Admittedly, I've got a pregnant co-worker and I've never called her huge (perhaps it's an inherent "man" thing to know to never call a woman "huge" under any circumstance, pregnant or no). Perhaps it's customary for female co-workers to admire the girth of a pregnant co-worker in straightforward terms.

In any case, I think she looks great and I hope she knows how beautiful I think she is. In fact, I think she's even more beautiful with a 37-week pregnant belly.

The pressure of pregnancy

2007-01-29T22:10:00.000-05:00

This past weekend, Meredith and I attended a childbirth class at the hospital where Little Elvis will be born. The registered nurse who was teaching the class mentioned that, from her own observations, the labor and delivery department gets more active during stormy weather. She thought that there might be a relationship between drops in atmospheric pressure and the onset of labor.

As soon as I could get on the internet, I searched around for any studies of such a relationship. Sure enough, it has been studied. I found reference to two articles, one from St. Luke's Episcopal Hospital in Houston and the other from the University of Massachusetts Medical School. They were published in the Journal of Nurse-Midwifery (now published as The Journal of Midwifery & Women's Health) and the American Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology, respectively. The first study indicated, "The overall number of labor onsets increased in the 24 hours following a significant drop in barometric pressure." The second study also showed some relationship between falling barometric pressure and onset of labor, but indicated that the magnitude was not of clinical significance.

My understanding is that little is definitively known about what triggers the onset of labor and I wouldn't hazard any guess as to why a drop in atmospheric pressure would contribute to the triggering process.

That said, when I lived in Fort Smith, Ark., I worked with a woman who had given birth to triplets during a tornado on April 21, 1996, an F2 that killed 4 people and injured 89.
Anyone else with stories of "stormy" pregnancies?

Size doesn't matter . . . it's the thought that counts

2007-01-29T21:42:00.000-05:00

If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm a weatherman by trade. While attending the American Meteorological Society's Annual Meeting in San Antonio two weeks ago, I picked up a souvenir for Little Elvis (due date is Feb. 17). That's right, straight out of the "My dad went to a meteorological conference and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" department, I bought our baby a gift from the National Center for Atmospheric Research. NCAR had a table in the exhibit hall full of items for sale (books, apparel, science kits, etc.) from their science store.

Despite the fact that it's too large to be worn by a newborn (I think it's an 18-24 month size), I couldn't resist the "I'm a little vortex!" onesie. I'm sure by the time he gets to be 18 to 24 months, he'll be more of a little vortex than he will be in the first few months of life.

Don't forget that I've already bought Little Elvis his first guitar that he probably won't be able to play until he's at least 3 years old. Admittedly, I'm not the best at picking appropriate sizes for the baby's gifts, but I think my heart is in the right place.

I'm hoping I can share my passions with Little Elvis without becoming one of those parents trying to live their dreams vicariously through their children. Is there a secret to striking the right balance?

"Little Elvis" has his mommy's nose

2007-01-23T15:13:00.000-05:00

Mere and I got another look at "Little Elvis" today. We went for another sonogram to check the baby's size, position and to pinpoint the due date. All went very well, apart from a bit of discomfort for Mere as the ultrasound technician pressed hard on her lower abdomen to get a look at the birth canal. I didn't feel a thing, by the way.

"Little Elvis" is already very smart -- he's got himself head down in the proper position and will not likely change position before birth. The kicks and movements that Mere continues to feel and we continue to see on her belly are the motions of his arms, legs and bottom. He weighs in at a whopping 6 lbs. 6 oz., and the technician says that's right where he needs to be (puts him in the 48th percentile of pregnancies at 36 weeks, 3 days). The cutest part is that he's got Mere's nose -- very fortunate for him. I got my big honker from my mother, so looks like "Little Elvis" is following suit.

It was good news all around this week--my brother and sister-in-law had a sonogram and found out that they will be having a boy. It's so very exciting! There is a slight concern in that my sister-in-law has, if I remember correctly, a cervical cyst. Spotty bleeding early on in the pregnancy is what led to the discovery of the cyst. It has gotten a bit heavier of late, but the doctor seems to prefer not to deal with it until after the baby is born. I assume that this would be an intrusive procedure and the doctor, as well as my brother and sister-in-law, do not want to jeopardize the pregnancy.

Anyone familiar with cervical cysts? Any similar stories or words of wisdom?

Consumer Reports eats crow

2007-01-19T12:42:00.000-05:00

Consumer Reports has retracted an article about car seat safety that ran recently, citing that speeds at which crash-tests were conducted were higher than reported in the article. Turns out that the testing done be the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration was carried out at twice the speed claimed by the magazine.

Consumer Reports plans to review the research, retest the car seats and publish a new article in the near future.

The magazine continues to stress that the "use of any child seat is safer than no child seat."

Good contractions, bad contractions

2007-01-16T22:13:00.000-05:00

It's been a tough week and it's only Tuesday. I left the warmth of DC over the weekend (50s and 60s) and have been slogging through a cold rain (now freezing rain and sleet) in San Antonio for the past two days. But it's not just the weather that's got me down, it's being away from Meredith and Little Elvis. Thankfully, I'll be back with her by Thursday.

Speaking of back, she's been having a lot of back pain. I guess that's to be expected for a woman who is eight months pregnant. She wrote about it in a recent blog post. She was having a bad day. On top of back and stomach pains she's been having that may be related to contractions, her computer was preventing her from making the kind of contractions she wanted to make -- the apostrophe key was apparently on the blink.

Once I get home on Thursday and give her a big hug, I'll give her a nice back rub and then I'll check out her computer.