99 days and counting!

The date is approaching fast! Lauren's belly is growing and little Samuel is kicking like a rugby player. I think he sees mommy's bladder as a big soccer ball. Great job, son.

I think the education is about to begin. We bought "The Baby Book" by Dr. William Sears, which was recommended highly from friends of ours. He wrote the book from asking parents around him what they did for this and what they did for that. It looks like a pretty extensive book and I plan to use it to become the best father possible. Obviously, you don't learn to be a dad by reading a book, but at least I can learn from other people how to not completely screw up the kid. But, that is not a given either.

I will let Lauren deal with "The Birth Book", because all I have to do is pick the cigars...right?

It's a Boy!

Well...at least that is the first call. We have all heard the horror stories of doctors being wrong, particularly after all the baby clothes have been bought. "I thought you guys didn't want to know", I hear you say? Well, here is how it went down.

So, we went to our appointment for the normal checkup. The baby had gotten big enough for our doctor to do all her usual tests...checking the four chambers of the heart, two kidneys, stomach..."Oh...and it's a boy!". Lauren and I just look at each other with mouths open. Oops.

So, it's a boy for now. But, we'll check with her each visit to make sure it stays the same. I'm getting ready to sign him up for Little League. Do they accept payments for Spring 2013?

If you are having trouble seeing what the ultrasound is showing...picture the baby looking at you (you can see one eye socket) with his hand to his face in the "thinking man" pose. He might even be flipping us off.

Merry Christmas!

Hi Peter!

In case you did not know...this is the cutest kid in the world. Apologies to the rest of the civilized world, but you don't hold a candle to this one. I mean, your parents might say that you are the cutest, but I'm telling you right now...your parents are liars, only meant to make you feel better. This is Mercedes, our niece, god-daughter and practice child.

Hopefully, ours turns out as cute as this.

Doctor Visit #4

Here is the latest photo of Baby Johnston. It is not too clear since the baby was not being very cooperative, but you can see the spine pretty clearly. We were able to see the face for a split second, but it decided it was shy and turned so we could only see it's back.

None the less, we saw the heart beat again and, of course, mine stopped at that time. That will never get old.

Everything is progressing fine. There was a shaky moment when there was a mixup with the down syndrome test, but it turned out everything was fine. Phew! We didn't really want to take the test in the first place because it would not affect anything (we would keep the baby no matter what). Lauren has been sick, so the doctor gave us advice there and some more advice for her sciatica.

150 days to go!

Illinois? Seriously?

On the anniversary of Illinois being admitted as the 21st state, we find out that our beloved Trojans have to play them in the Granddaddy-of-them-all...the Rose Bowl. What a let down! I couldn't be more angry at Missouri and West Virginia for dropping trou and laying Cleveland Steamers on the football field. A USC vs. OSU matchup would have drawn a crowd and all Trojan fans would have loved to see the embarrassment of the "best" team in the Big-10 at the hands of Pete "Caesar" Carroll and the mighty Trojans.

The only thing Illinois has going for it is Chicago...deep dish pizzas, The Chophouse, the Sears Tower, Pizzeria Due, Mothers and Navy Pier...man, what a weekend!

So, apparently, the head honchos at the Tournament of Roses thought the next best choice was the "Fighting Illini". Great. Maybe the Twilight Zone marathon will be on that day.

Hi! I'm Cute!

Thanksgiving Eve

The greatest drinking holiday of the year is, by far, St. Patrick's Day. This day is meant to thank God for giving the Irish whiskey so they wouldn't rule the world. On March 17, we all celebrate the greatness of alcohol and the unabashed drunken stupor that comes with it.

The second greatest drinking holiday of the year is Thanksgiving Eve. It starts when a group of friends comes into drinking age (usually during the college years) and they come back to their home city for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend and Wednesday night is meant for meeting up with long lost friends that you hadn't seen since last Thanksgiving Eve.

Now that the college years have come and gone, and friends you grew up with either moved away or matured faster than you, Thanksgiving Eve is still clung to by the unmarried, childless men and women in our social circle. Still an event, but is threatened from becoming just a Friday night in the middle of the week.

Bowl of Turkey? No thank you.

For eighteen years I participated in the Annual Turkey Bowl on Thanksgiving morning. It was something I looked forward to each year, to be able to go out and knock some guys around and catch a few passes. It was good times, but it also came with a cost. There were thanksgiving dinners where I would not be able to get up off the floor, constant headaches, back aches, and body aches. But, it was worth it. That little bit of macho, still coursing through the veins.

The Turkey Bowl began to bring other athletes to the table. What started as a friendly game to get the blood going, turned into a high school reunion of football players looking to regain the glory of their younger years. As soon as I started seeing mouth pieces, I began to worry. They ignored my pleas to replace the football game with a good game of kickball.

So a little thing called wisdom stepped in. My body sat my brain down and gave it a good tongue-lashing. "Why do you do this to me?" my body says. "Macho went out of style in 12th grade!" So, in the year 2006, my body celebrated it's first painfree Thanksgiving since the mid-80s.

I intend to celebrate my second this Thursday. My pride left me a long time ago...and I'm alright with that.

A Glorious Loss

Let me tell you about last night. In a softball league where we have been mercied (beaten by at least 15 runs) every game this season, we entered last night's game with only eight players. This meant we would have to play with only three outfielders and no second baseman. "Toast" was the word rolling through my head.

Fast forward to the top of the 7th inning...we are down by eight runs and ready to "run out the clock"...just happy that we finished a game. Over the next ten minutes we witnessed the greatest output of runs we have seen in about a decade. Piling on fifteen runs in one inning, we went to the end of the game all smiles.

Of course, they scored five more runs easily and topped it off with a walk-off three run home run. But that was beside the point...losing by one run was glorious! We had to celebrate with a few rounds at the Crest and an $8.00 steak.

Wow! What a game!

FYI...the picture is of our one and only championship at Barnes Park.