New Year's Resolution

Bec asked me what's my New Year's Resolution. I thought deep and hard and decided it can only be one thing: To Remember that I have a kid. This is pretty important cause I might just drive off leaving him at the comic book store. Nobody thinks I have a kid so why wouldn't I believe the hype? I might have to get like a weird little device that beeps if I'm 100 feet away from the baby. They make those? Butterbean needs a pager.

The other resolution is to remember that my wife is pregnant. I can't expect her to fit in everything. I can't plan on taking her to places without a warning. And she gets the choice part of the sofa. The burden of sacrifices for 2008.

Almost blabbed

Dan calls up yesterday and wants to go to Hooters for the holidays. Who am I to deny him a night away from the wife and kids? We meet up in the tacky tavern. Our waitress is pouring out of her tanktop which is always a nice view. During our drinks, the waitress scrubs down the table and the bottles with an intensity only matched by Dan's stare down her tanktop.

and that's when I almost blow the secret by saying, "Do you do any nanny work?"

I panic that Dan will wonder why I'm asking about nannies.

She gives the polite laugh. And I tell her that Dan needs someone to watch his kids. He kind of backs off my request since his wife wouldn't like a Hooters waitress wiping down the girls after a chicken wing lunch.

He's still clueless which means that I'm not getting five calls a day from him demanding to know if i'm ready to have my life turned into a living hell.

thinking for two

after my painful visit to the dentist for a cleaning, they set up my next appointment for July. I had to think what time would be best for someone to watch the Butterbean while I'm getting sonic scrubbed. Figured around 3 p.m. would be best. Isn't that around the time babies sleep? Now I get to tell mom what's the first day I need her keeping an eye on the kiddie.

Something clean

My brother-in-law came over today so we could install the new dishwasher. This will mean that the Butterbean will have clean bottles and sippy cups. Shame you just can't put the kid inside it, but Whirlpool has a qualm with giving customers what they really need.

Things not to do with a baby

We went to see the Boston Bruins - Carolina Hurricanes hockey match with my brother's family. Will had a fun time at the game, but I kinda realize that I won't be taking the Butterbean to an NHL game. First off the third level seats are rather steep and with zero leg space. I kept fearing Will would tumble if his seat tossed him around. Secondly, because of the ice, the building is really cold up there. Which brings us to part 3) it's too damn expensive. $35 for our section. All that and I have to worry about the kid catching a cold? We'll talk the kid to see the Bulls when the Pawsox come around, but there's very little chance I'll be dragging him to a Hurricanes game until he can at least identify the name and number of 10 active players.

does this mean it sticks?

While leaving my folks house on Christmas night, Will waved at Becky's stomach and said, "Bye bye Butterbean."

Well i could have been this dumb

As I worry about money and Butterbean, I get news that screenwriter Eric Roth has lost all the millions he saved up for retirement thanks to Maddoff. He didn't realize his moneyman had decided to let Maddoff control his accounts. So even if I had millions tucked away, odd are high that they'd vanish in the ponzi scam.

Invest in Butterbean, I say.

Still Clueless

For those curious, after Dan, his wife and kids at dinner and hunt out for nearly 3 hours, they left without a clue that Becky was pregnant. We did put Christmas cards over the frames holding the ultrasound pics of the Butterbean. That's sneaky, but I couldn't be obvious.

After they left, mom kept asking when i was going to tell Dan. I figure I can send him an invitation when Butterbean graduates from Harvard with his PhD in Biochemistry.

Comfort of Doom

In the midst of the whole crisis about what's it going to take to take care of the Butterbean, I find a strange solace in the fact that we've got less than 4 years until the arrival of Mayan Doomsday. What's the point of worrying about that right "Kindergarten business" with a predicted event hitting before he should know how to program Fortran?

The sad thought is that right after I get the kid completely potty trained, here comes Mayan Doomsday. All that work and effort and relief and then the big freak event hits. Now I'm stressed out again.

How can I protect the Butterbean from Mayan Doomsday? How much duct tape, sun block and bottled water does he need? What the hell is supposed to happen that time in Dec. 21, 2012? Will this be tied into a Cubs World Series victory parade? Should I buy furniture that has no interest until Dec. 25, 2012?

The Doom feeling

During Christmas dinner at my folks place, my sister-in-law starts going on a rant about how much it cost to deliver my nephew Will and how much baby formula costs. And I'm sitting there entire time feeling that this was somehow a terrible mistake. That I'm in no position to raise a kid. The sister-in-law asks Becky when we're going to buy a bigger house and register for baby gifts. A bigger house?

I found myself not quite doing math, but just that horrifying moment where I realize that my slacker lifestyle has made me worse off than a Franciscan monk. Those guys probably have 401Ks. At least they haven't burnt their salaries being dedicated followers of today's now fashions. What do I have? I haven't held a job that will qualify me to earn more than what it costs for daycare. And since Google killed the Butterbean fund, this is no longer an option outside of entertaining the masses for free. (By the way: The curse of the Butterbean has already taken effect. Instead of getting cash bonuses, Google serfs are being given the company's new cellphone for Christmas. A buggy phone is so much better than cash.)

Sure it costs a bit of money to have a kid. How the hell do poor people have kids that grow up to become captains of industry or at least NFL cornerbacks? Maybe I need to focus on doing a TV show called Joe and his 20 kids. The trick being that I just use CGI effects to make copies of the Butterbean. Or keep claiming that the other 19 babies are just off camera? Seeing how they're babies, they can almost all look the same for the early episodes. It's only later that I'd have to work some make up magic and give Butterbean a variety of looks using fake mustaches, beards and hippie wigs.

Maybe it pisses me off to hear my sister-in-law whine about how much a baby costs when a) she just had my brother buy a McMansion and b) she's knocked up again.

I have decided that in the next few weeks I must get a draft done of "The Boss's Son" - my script about a mobster's only son. This sort of freakish stuff seems to sell since it has a hitman dressed as a priest. This will be the new Butterbean fund.

Silent Night

This seems to be the last Christmas that's adult oriented. Come next year, the Butterbean will dominate the day even if he's barely 6 months old. The good part is he won't be old enough to have a clue about what's going on. We won't have to be tricky and hide the gifts until Christmas morning. He'll have that "this is neat, what is it?" look on his face. And he'll be happy getting a pair of slacks as a gift as long as they're wrapped.

Even with the Butterbean trapped on the inside, we'll be feeling his effect this year. I can smell quite a few baby items popping up with our names attached. I won't be getting that wii or 70 inch 1080p TV this year. People will think it's cute to give me diapers. Which is cool since we'll need them.

Dan, his wife and kids are due over tonight which will be interesting to see if he can guess that Bec's pregnant. i'm not giving him a clue. I just don't need to hear about it all night long. Now I must double safety check the house since I don't know if his youngest is out of her tossing stage. Dan threatened to bring the family dog along. I told him no.

Google hates the Butterbean

This was Google's reply to my Adsense appeal: "Thanks for providing us with additional information. However, after
thoroughly reviewing your account data and taking your feedback into
consideration, we've re-confirmed that your account poses a significant
risk to our advertisers. For this reason, we're unable to reinstate your
account. Thank you for your understanding."

Google swears their slogan is "Don't Be Evil," but they have destroyed the Butterbean fund by banning me from Adsense without giving me any facts like any other Evil corporation or a bank that took Bailout Billions. I do hope they understand that the last internet giant that dared to tangle with me with their faceless behemoth ways was Yahoo when they killed my account without warning or reason. How has Yahoo been doing? Google be prepared for your stock to sell for $12 a pop, too. The Butterbean will put an end to your private jumbo jet ways!

hope for taste

Becky said that Butterbean made her feel sick when I attempted to see what "The Hills After Party" was about on MTV. It was worse than imagined. I feel good knowing the Butterbean will be repulsed by Spencer and Heidi when he gets on the outside. These people should only exist to be mocked by Joel McHale on the Soup.

I'm happy the Butterbean has a little sense of taste.

It's a name

We went up to visit Becky's relatives in Virginia. They're excited at the news of the impending Butterbean although Becky's grandmother warned me to stop calling him Butterbean. Most of the folks were taken back that I wanted to know the Butterbean's gender instead of wanting to be surprised. I think just having a kid is surprise enough when you're my age (and I know my friends will be in show at the mini-me).

I really should get a Onesie made with "Mini-Me In Training" written on it.

clean bean

as a Christmas present we bought a new dishwasher. The old one has been around for nearly 20 years and hasn't exactly been a major cleaner lately. The new one was on a good sale price plus a coupon on top. This way the Butterbean will have clean bottles when it matters.

keep it high

we put up the Christmas tree this evening. It's a fake tree. we'll keep it for when the Butterbean arrives so he can learn the important lesson that man can manipulate plastics to make something that looks natural, but doesn't require watering so you don't have to keep hearing me yell about needles on the carpet because you didn't look to see how much water is in it.

also this is probably the last year that we can put breakable ornaments on lower branches. Got to let the kid think something wouldn't shatter to the touch. Although we don't have that many glass ornaments. Most of them are plastic and resemble athletes. He will probably be the only kid in his class with memories of Shaq hanging off the tree.

being too darn cute

on the Christmas cards being sent out to my side of the family, they're all signed "Merry Christmas from Joe, Becky and the Butterbean."

arm down

I realize that I'm making an effort to keep my right hand down when I'm just standing around to prepare for when i have to worry about Butterbean grabbing any low hanging part of my body

Why I'm not in med school.

I call mom to let her know that the appointment went well. She tells me about how when she was pregnant with Russ (I was about 3), we'd all go to the hospital. While mom was with the doctor, dad would keep me outside. After a few visits, I demanded to come inside the hospital because I wanted to play with the baby. I thought that during the check ups that the doctor took the baby out of mom and checked it out. At the end of the appointment, they'd push the baby back inside since it wasn't ready to be on the outside full time.

This probably explains why I was never considered a serious contender for med school.

Beep and Beats

The trip to the OBGYN didn't have any horrifying moments. There was no urgent news nor pop quiz.

I sat in the waiting room while Becky was weighed and measured. The flat screen was showing a goofy CNN medical channel with Sanjay Guppta as the host. The big ad they kept running was for a birth control ring. What was the point of advertising that to me? Why not also throw in a new pattern for arranging deck chairs on the Titanic?

The wait for the doctor was pretty damn long inside the examination room. I came up with the worst idea for a website "How Hot is my Pancreas?" Becky's hormones have gone into overdrive. I want to ask the doctor if there's an "Don't Bite Joe's Head Off" pills that he can prescribe. And they're free if they come in a generic.

He breaks out a strange little tape recorder looking thing and lets me somewhat hear the Butterbean's heartbeat. All sounds normal. Although I can already tell the kid is more driven and intense from the pace.

Afterwards we make another appointment. The lady asks if we want a boy or a girl. and I basically say it's going to be a boy. She says that gender is up to the kid. Which I respond, "My dad laid down the law as a kid and he's getting it from me." We laugh. But I've decided that a girl is too much. I don't want to have to worry about accessorizing the kid.

Fear of hospitals

Tomorrow we have another OB-GYN doctor visit. I get to sit there and nervously act like I'm supposed to know anything about this baby business. Mom tells me that the army wouldn't even check you for being pregnant until you were about four months along. Guess they had too many incidents of women swallowing volleyballs.

I don't mind going cause it does make me look responsible. But I fear they're going to throw a pop quiz at me. How much torn cloth and hot water do you need when the baby arrives? At least modern diapers are easier to put on than cloth ones with pins. Did they ever come up with a stapler for diapers? That would be like kind easier. You could use glue to put cushions on either side of the baby's hips and then after the diaper goes on "cachunk cachunk" and the diaper is attached. You might need pliers when it's time to change 'em.

Seeing it in order

One of the weirdness elements of the 21st Century is getting an entire TV series on DVD. When I was a kid, we didn't have a clue how many Gilligan's Island episodes there were. we just kept thinking the TV station might have missed one. So we'd keep watching the Back to Back Gilligan's on WLVI 56. We also didn't have a clue how few episodes they made of most Saturday morning shows. Now these kids can go on the internet and get all this information. They can even print out a checklist. Of course all this truth ruins he imagination since you can't lie about seeing "lost episodes" to dopey pals who thinks there was a Speed Buggy episode with Hong Kong Phooey.

Have I turned Butterbean into my fictional TV watching pal? Not that I'll force him to be a TV baby. The kid has to get the jokes before I force him to watch 'em. Although with my luck he's going to turn into a snob declaring he can't watch anything that isn't Blu-ray. "Standard Def hurts my eyes, Daddy."

Watching the kid

Babysitting on Friday night turned out to be pretty easy. The 5 year old kid fixated on playing with the magnetic letters on my fridge. Once he established his routine for the evening, he stuck with it. He didn't poke in drawers or run around screaming. He was much easier to watch than Dan's kids. He didn't seem to mind that his folks were gone as long as he had letters to explore. He's a spelling maniac. He even wrote "Now Available on VHS and DVD for the first time." He like the credits on DVDs.

Ray Regis would have enjoyed knowing that there was a little kid who liked to stare at the screen during the credit roll.

It's a family tradition

I've decided that Butterbean will be raised with Festivus in the house. The Butterbean will understand that the holiday season isn't over until he can pin his old man.

A Horrible Fate

While shopping at BJs, I see this little kid poking around the display of baseball caps. I imagine how much fun it'll be taking the Butterbean to the Durham Bulls games to see the Pawsox. Always good to tell the kid, "Remember when we saw that Redsox player" when the front row seats were cheaper. But then I'm struck with the horrible fear - what if Butterbean likes the Yankees. I'd rather have that kid come home saying, "Dad, Karl Rove has some great ideas and he really knows how to give a reach around" than a request for pinstripes for Christmas. I'll have to do my best to make him not even know the Yankees exist this way he can't even rebel by rooting against his old man's team. I could solve this by naming him Yastrzemski Pedroia Corey. He'd have to cheer for his namesake. I could never name a child Johnny Damon or Roger Clemens.

One less "Gimme" Hotspot

I just got the news that mall favorite KB Toys is calling it quits. This was the one place I used to wander off to at the mall whenever the folks were looking at loser stuff like clothes and clothes and more clothes. Where is a parent going to look for their missing kids when there's no toystore in the mall? Where am I supposed to disappear to when the wife is looking at clothes? As record, book and video stores flee the mall, it's just one big clothing store. Even Hot Topic and Urban Outfitters are more about clothes that cool stuff.

I hope my kid doesn't run off to Hot Topic. That place breeds losers more than Larry's Pocket Protector Galleria.

Test Run

This Friday we have to watch a pal's kid while she's off at an office Christmas dinner. This means today I'm cleaning up and "securing" the downstairs. The kid is autistic so I have to be extra careful since I won't have the automatic response when saying, "Careful! Or Don't Touch That!" Best just to not have stuff around that doesn't need touching. With any luck, he'll spend most of the visit moving the alphabet magnets around the fridge door.

The hairy bump

CNN just reported that a "pregnant" woman was busted for attempting to smuggle a monkey into the country disguised as her baby bump. Now I'm worried that this is all just a front so that Becky can get into the high dollar world of monkey smuggling with me as her clueless patsy.

Will I be stuck at customs declaring that the furry beast really is my child? Oh the shame.

You can't predict 'em

While contemplating what it'll be like when the Butterbean makes the great escape, it's easy to daydream about the Sears catalog kid. But I can't allow myself to predetermine the attitude of the Butterbean. For all I know, the kid will be a brat from the start. Or a nice little kid with big eyes and a nervous hand. When you predict too much, you just get disappointed. I think also you get annoyed when they won't follow your program instead of you adapting the plan to the game on the field. This isn't football where you chart out your first 20 plays.

couldn't tell him

Dan called today and in the middle of the talk about what his kids are doing, he goes, "when are you going to have little Joes?" I couldn't tell him the news. Instead I said, "You'll know when you know." When in doubt, it's not lying to go zen.

The Gimmes

Used to be whenever I went into a store, I pushed my cart around, snagged my stuff and left without noticing anyone. Now I can't help but stare at kids in the carts. Mainly seeing how the mom's make sure the kids don't turn it into a jungle gym on wheels. Also to see how they keep the kids from grabbing stuff off the shelves. I think the key is to hit the cough syrup display first.

In this world of Fox News warnings about amber alerts, I kinda feel creepy observing them. I want to shout out "my wife's expecting," but that might be something a creepy stranger with candy would say. Perhaps the best way to keep the kid from grabbing object is to infuse them with "snob appeal." Allow junior to think, "I wouldn't touch that with your hand." Also shopping at BJs seems to be good since there's no way a kid can grab anything that's wrapped in bulk.

Hiding the news from Dan

For several years now, my pal Dan has been constantly going on about when will Becky and I have kids. He's got two girls and wants to inflict his insane homelife on me. His daughter (and my goddaughter) Sara is a police siren when I have to babysit her.Dan keeps swearing my kids will be worse than his. He's going to come over with popcorn and watch the mayhem around my house. But I insist that my kids in order to truly rebel will be goal oriented, focused and organized. Nothing will drive me nuts more than seeing a clean floor in my kid's room.

About a year ago, I told Dan to quit asking "when are going to have kids?" cause it was pissing Becky off. Dan hasn't asked in the last year. I know he'll be unstoppable when he gets word that we've got Butterbean on the way. He'll call at all hours and insist my life is going to turn into a living hell. He has to share all those warm thoughts. So I've decided to not tell him until way late in the process. We haven't seen him in a while so he won't notice the bump. Mom and Dad have been sworn to not tell him when he calls.

Now you're probably thinking that he'll find out about Butterbean from this webblog - but nope. His computer is broken. He always has to call me to get phone numbers and addresses of the schools he subs at. It'll be interesting to see if we have to host him and his kids on Christmas. Maybe I'll have Becky hide behind the fridge to prevent him getting a clue.

Now it's become a gender landslide

Carmen, Becky's hairstylist, told her that we're going to have a boy. This is a woman who has an understanding of Bec's hair so naturally she's got to have a clue what's going on inside her.

Becky also had a dream last night that she gave birth. It was an easy delivery and the Butterbean turned out to be a boy with plenty of hair. Fast and everything goes right labor is the better part of the dream for me. Don't want to spend the next few years hearing her talk about a 36 hour labor. I want that kid to drop like a Kanye West album.

Another Bad Baby name

Actor Jonny Lee Miller and his wife, model Michele Hicks named their baby Buster Timothy Miller.

Buster? Buster? That's a nickname. Even Buster Keaton's real first name was Joe. He was part of the Fellowship of Joes. Even Buster's son who is known as Buster Keaton Jr. is really named Joe. If you wanted to name the kid after Buster Keaton, you should put Joseph on the birth certificate.

You do know what's really named Buster? A really bad film starring Phil Collins. What child wants to know that their name was used by Mr. SuuuSuuuuSussudio?

Remember a simple rule to naming a kid - when you call out their name; will a neighbor's dog will come running for dinner? Time to pick another name.

let it pour

I've volunteered to give blood next weekend because I need to understand the feeling of my life slowly being drained out of me. Although I'm the one who gets the juice and cookie after the ordeal.

Damn kids!

why can't the Butterbean let mom eat her breakfast in peace? Such a picky eater already.

10 Movies I will have to hide from Butterbean

1. Salo
2. Last Tango in Paris
3. The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover
4. Caligula
5. Story of O (in Blu-ray)
6. The Wild Bunch
7. Smiley Face
8. Super 8 1/2
9. The Emanuelle collection
10. The Act of Seeing with One's Own Eyes

These DVDs will have to be tucked away in a locked box on a top shelf.

Lessons for the Butterbean

There's no excuse for bad behavior.

It's a sad truth that you need to have manners when around others no matter what the situation - at least in situations which someone can call the cops on you. Don't act up at the airport. Think of the French and how they can be cursing you and your grandmother for 15 minutes, yet they sound like they're singing you a love song. When you must complain, make it sound like a compliment.

Goggle Adsense killed the Butterbean fund.

I'm not sure why, but Google Adsense sent me this:

While going through our records recently, we found that your AdSense
account has posed a significant risk to our AdWords advertisers. Since
keeping your account in our publisher network may financially damage
our advertisers in the future, we've decided to disable your account.

I'm appealing this since the Butterbean account was up to $22. That's a pack of diapers.

icky things

I end up reading this article about how Clay Aiken changes his baby's diapers. This kinda freaked me out. This guy is willing to deal with the smell of dirty diapers, but had to use a turkeybaster to knock up his female friend. People are weird.

You Know Your In the South...

When it comes to painting the baby's room, people mention the paint scheme should reflect which NASCAR driver you want the kid to root for.

Three Things

There are three things I have to remember with Becky being pregnant

1. Juice Her Up - she always needs to have a cup of juice when she leaves the house.

2. Keep the Tub Extra Clean - she likes to soak instead of shower.

3. Don't Make Plans Past 8 p.m. - her bedtime varies between 7 p.m. and 11 p.m. depending on how the Butterbean whips her butt during the day.

Long as I remember these three things, I'll be set for the next week. Cause like NASCAR, the rules change depending on the track and the star driver that might want to break them.

A great quote

I went to a memorial service for Dwayne Walls, my college journalism coach. A speaker quoted Dwayne as saying:

One boy can do the work of one boy
Two boys can do the work of half a boy
Three boys are useless

I'm not sure if he originated the saying, but I'm attributing it to Dwayne. Being from a family of three boys, I can say that he was onto something.

Practice makes perfect

When nobody is around, I catch myself working on my "Don't Touch That" voice. I want to be able to almost have it down so that the moment i breathe in, the Butterbean will put his hands in his pockets. What is the right "huff" key?

Fine Dining

Becky refuses to eat a McRib so that Butterbean can enjoy the wonder that is McRib.

What are the odds that McDonald's will still be serving the McRib when Butterbean is ready to eat solid foods? They took it away for years. They could do it again.

How can she refuse the genius that is the McRib? This is Butterbean's best chance to receive nourishment from the wonder pork and its miracle sauce. How will Butterbean know how much he is loved without a taste of McRib?

Maybe I can hide a McRib inside an orange slice and sneak it into Becky's stomach?

Who Do You Have to....

So I started looking into wolfpacks to raise Butterbean. I figure if it's good enough for Lucan, why not let wild animals raise my kid. It's always a good conversation topper after all those private school misfits mouth off about their Snotsburry Day School to discuss being raised by wolves.

Who knew you would have to fill out so much paperwork for an unborn kid. And then they still want to do an interview with the baby before they admit them to the program. Plus they want a non-refundable deposit. I smell a scam. Might be cheaper to have Butterbean raised by possums.

Stooges

At what age should a child be exposed to the Three Stooges? How long will I have to hide the DVDs of Moe, Larry and Curly in the vault?

I don't recall seeing them until I was about 7. Growing up on bases in West Germany didn't help since Armed Forces TV seemed to want to keep the violence down. Every week they showed Born Free. I remember they ran the clip show film with Charlie McCarthy inbetween sliced up Stooge adventures. Think they also ran some of the later feature films in the afternoon. This was confusing since I had no idea of the relationship between Curly and Curly Joe DeRita. This was at a time before the internet so we had no way to figure out the timeline.

Kids view themselves as indestructible enough without seeing the Stooges survive violent mayhem. Perhaps the Butterbean will wait until he's at least 25 to see the genius of Moe.

Why don't you ever see Born Free on TV anymore?

Test Pilot

When it comes time to child proof the house, I'll just borrow my nephew Will to see if things are truly secure. I should get him a pair of goggles and a hardhat just to meet OSHA standards.

The Nickname Game

Now that everyone knows we refer to the upcoming addition as "The Butterbean," it's strange to see who really likes the nickname.

My side of the family is from the great urban joy of Boston. Becky's kin live in rural Virginia. So you'd think you'd know which relatives would be horrified at us saying how the Butterbean is doing. But it's Becky's family that are complaining that we shouldn't call 'em Butterbean. Mainly cause they fear it will stick. Yet my uncles and aunts up in Boston get a complete kick that we call it Butterbean. My mom laughs when she says it. My mother-in-law doesn't even want to acknowledge the nickname.

I think it's proper for a child conceived in Virginia to have a goofy food based nickname. Although we keep explaining that in a few months, it'll be called The Butterball. Although I hope that the child doesn't suffer from buttahface.

Notes from the Underground

Bec burps more than ever before - which is a pretty high volume amount of burps.

I've determined that this isn't merely gas, but coded messages from the Butterbean. It's like a prisoner tapping out his Morse action on bars after the screws have turned out the lights. The Butterbean wants us to know something, but mostly it seems to be his dream to belch the alphabet.

Soon as I break his code, I'll reply by strawberrying out messages on Becky's belly.

Lessons from TV Dads

Father Knows Best

Jim Anderson ran what appeared to be a perfect household. He had a hot wife, a son and two daughters. These kids didn't have any major problems. They got out of his way when he had to sell insurance.

Lesson Learned from TV Dad

Bud and Kitten had major problems after the show went off the air. Princess went on to marry Sheriff Andy Taylor, but then dumped him, ran off to New York City to be a semi-platonic gal to Felix Unger. His kids didn't come off as completely stable with Jim's life lessons being anchors.

The only time Jim showed his real face is the legendary "24 Hours in Tyrantland" when he teaches the kids a harsh lesson of living in a Soviet style state. Maybe if he traumatized the kids more, they would have been as upright as him.

A son!!!!

Forget going to the doctor and using that ultrasound to determine the gender of Butterbean. We decided to use a good old fashioned old wives tale.

During Thanksgiving dinner fun, a lot of Bec's cousins came with their kids. At one point Bec picked up a little girl baby and the child was extra peaceful to her. It was pointed out that girl babies get upset when being held by women that are pregnant with girls. I guess being a jealous mean girl starts in the womb.

To get a second opinion, it was observed that the two under-1 year old boys were doing their best to avoid being near Bec. Seems it's also true that boys don't like being around women pregnant with boys. Although I'm not sure if this is the case with boys that are milquetoasts who will spend their lives being bullied by girls.

So it's pretty much settled that the kid will now be named Joseph John IV. That sounds good enough to be tacked onto a Pope.

This kinda stinks since we'd finally settled on Josie Alma if it was a girl.

But you can't argue with old wives tales!

When comics age

While waiting for my copy of Saturday Night Live Season 4 in the mail, i get to thinking how much fun it'll be when I expose Butterbean to Bill Murray, John Belushi and Garret Morris. Naturally the Butterbean will be nearly 10 to enjoy and understand such stuff. it's got to be able to comprehend the historical context. I start doing the math and realize the SNL shows will be nearly 45 years old at that point. This would make this show on par with me as a kid watching Charlie Chaplin on TV.

I hope the Butterbean doesn't think the Killer Bees move with a jerky motion.

belly button weirdness

Last night I learned that while the baby's belly button is healing, you need to keep it extra clean. For boy babies this means making sure they're tucked like a drag queen when diapered up. No need to have them pee upward.

These kids are already getting complicated.

Tips for the Butterbean #2

Life Hurts

While I'll do my best to make sure you're not tossed around like a box of china by the moving men, there's going to be a lot of bumps if you don't pay attention to your surroundings. Remember to keep one hand on the railing - it's for your own good. When you decide to start walking on two feet, make sure you have a spotter.

It's going to hurt when you hit the floor, coffeetable, doorknob, back of the chair, bottle of Old Spice or the ceiling (we could have a gravity outage). You might be rather bouncy, but you're not indestructible.

Lessons from TV Dads

My Two Dads

I never really watched this show since it came on during a period when I had a social life. What I know was that it starred the creepy corporate guy from Aliens and the trucker from BJ and the Bear minus the truck, chimp and Sheriff Lobo. We made up our own version of the plot in that years ago these two guys had a hot threesome with a stewardess on at the airport Hilton. She got knocked up, but didn't tell either of them. She ended up dying and the court decided that while one of the two guys was the real dad, the prudish family judge decided that both of them would share custody of the kid as a punishment for having too much fun in a fleabag hotel. The two guys are forced to live together and do their best to not look like they're married.

What would have made this show much more exciting if they had forced the girl to be raised by a chimp and the alien. Talk about a kid nervous about bringing boys home to meet the dads.

Is this close to the real premise? Cause if it isn't, I'll pitch it to Fox.

Dad Lessons Learned From The TV Father

Always wear a rubber when messing around with a freaky stewardess.

Truckers are cooler with Chimps than with the corporate weasel who wants to bring Aliens back to Earth.

What an expensive baby

Tiger Woods broke his endorsement deal with GM (Buick). it was worth $7 million bucks a year.

What's the reason? He wants to spend more personal time with his second baby.

I wish I could walk away from $7 million bucks to spend a few extra hours with the Butterbean. It's not like Tiger was actually working on the assembly line welding the new cars for 40 hours a week. A couple commercials that were completely geared around his schedule. And a weekend at the Pontiac golf tourney. Not like the baby couldn't come along on those events.

I'll pimp a Pontiac for $3.5 million and I'll bring along the Butterbean.

Tips for the Butterbean #1

I'm Looking Out For You

Contrary to what you believe, I'm not doing things to only make your life a living hell. There's reason and logic when I ask you to do things. Listen carefully and understand that no matter what you do, there are always dangerous consequences. I want you to be aware of the right thing to do even if it goes against your instincts and desires.

Of course if you get on my nerves, I might ignore this rule unless you remind me and guilt me into thinking I betrayed you.

Way to screw up Saturday mornings

Turns out that Fox has decided to completely abandon Saturday mornings by having 2 hours of infomercials instead of cartoons. On top of that, most of the networks run their news show instead of Kiddie fare during the early hours. How am I supposed to get a kid up on Saturday morning with the promise of Lester Holt demonstrating a new vacuum cleaner? Even Nick and Disney Channel merely rerun the same junk they show during the week. Saturday morning is no longer sacred.

I fear at 8 a.m. hearing the Butterbean knocking on the door and demanding we take him out of the house cause there's nothing good on TV. I don't want to have to tell my kid to put their pajamas back on, head down the stairs and watch TV. Daddy's got to sleep it off.

When i was a kid, there was nothing sadder than that hour when Soul Train, American Bandstand or college football arrived cause that was time to admit Saturday morning was over. The grown ups had taken over the channel and now we'd have to make an effort to do something with our unbusy days.

Perhaps by the time Butterbean is ready for TV, TV will once more be ready to entertain Butterbean.

the joy of lazy days

Today has just been a completely lazy day. We've just napped and watched TV and napped. Six months from now, this will not be possible. Unless we dump the Butterbean off at mom's house.

Chillin' at the parade

The Raleigh Christmas parade is taking place right now. Currently it's below freezing outside. The Butterbean will have to understand that the only parades that we will attend are only going to be during warm weather events. All others should be watched on TV. It'd be nice to take the Butterbean to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, but it's become so commercial.

The good part about taking little kids to parades is being able to stash things in the baby buggy that wouldn't want to carry - like a gallon of Aristocrat vodka. I've been told it's good as a babywipe.

not on the list

Bec said Julie Newmar is not a name for Butterbean. She's got issues with the Julie part. Lee Meriweather is still in the running.

Baby names

The geek from Fallout Boy and Ashlee (knife my nose) Simpson have named their son "Bronx Mowgli Wentz."

I couldn't do that to my child. Why curse a child with a neighborhood that hasn't seen a World Series victory in 8 years?

Fenway Baloo Corey has a much better ring.

where does it go?

Whenever I'm in a room for a while, I look around and ponder, "Where would the Butterbean fit in this space?" Where will I put him in the living room? I'm guessing on the coffeetable so he's able to see me and I can give him a bottle without getting out of my desk chair. of course this is dealing with the early months of the Butterbean when a baby merely lays around, sucking down milk and pooping up diapers. Once they get mobile, this room becomes a warzone.

Too early

This week started off way too early working on a Cub Cadet commercial. The 6 a.m. call times had me waking up at 4:15. I'm guessing this can be seen getting prepared for early morning feedings of Butterbean. Luckily Butterbean won't involve me cranking up a 24 ft. camper and driving out to a horse ranch north of Durham in freezing weather. Butterbean better be in a warm room within arm's reach.

Why Tell Early?

This was a non-slacker week as I spent time PAing on a Cub Cadet lawnmowers commercial. I have to make money to pay for birthing Butterbean. Otherwise I'll have to spend the next 9 months washing out bedpans.

During lunch, one of the crew asked if it was a little too early to tell people that Bec's pregnant. I explained that since people noticed how Bec was either napping or puking, my only cover story would be that she's hooked on the smack.

The truth is less scandalous, but it does ruin our chances of making a quick buck by starring on Intervention. Has there there been an episode where the subject admits she's just knocked up and not messed up on drugs?

Dementing the kids

Becky is now living in fear that I will teach Butterbean "Fish Heads," the classic Barnes & Barnes song. She can't help, but laugh with imagining how her mom will react to my child singing "Eat them up, Yum!" It will be a strange form of fun to get the kid to sing something other than the songs from High School Musical 23. You know Disney won't be stopping that madness.

Puking Baby Syndrome

I have to figure out nicer ways to prepare food so it doesn't get Becky sick to her stomach looking at it. The Beefaroni didn't quite go over so well. Maybe I should blindfold her before all meals? Although that could be misinterpreted as a romantic dinner which would kill the need for date night.

This kid is going to be a touchy eater.

ick

I'm not looking forward to hearing the words "Mucus Plug."

no cheese

Bec hinted that she'd like to have us take posed pics when her belly gets third trimester big. I'm not a big fan of those type of portraits. Smiling at a woman's belly almost comes off as cannibalistic. Or at least like you're posing for a fetish site. Plus I know the expression in my face will be interpreted as "Hurry up and get out of there!" Or "do you know what you're going to do to me?" There seems to be something extremely creepy about those pics. I don't like posing for the Driver's license photographer.

Family portraits should be done on the outside.

Plus at some point, i know I'll point out to the butterbean that the pic reminds me of a time when they were well behaved and quiet.

....and chicken?

We had lunch at the Bojangle's with Dana. While I was munching away on a cajun fried breast, she started telling us about how her kid is finally catching on to potty training. While this was extremely good news, it wasn't quite what my stomach needed to hear. I realize that for the next few years, it will be impossible to avoid any table conversations that won't touch upon bodily functions.

If only kids could be born potty trained from the womb, we'd be better off. Why can't science work for me instead of the benefit of humanity.

cold culture

Supposedly under Eskimo culture, if a pal who is traveling cross country with his pregnant wife drops by your igloo for a visit, he's entitled to borrow your non-pregnant wife to continue the trip. You're stuck dealing with the pregnant wife until he returns from the trip. I've never met an Eskimo who can explain if this is real or not. What are the chances that a Eskimo with a wife finally showing decided it was time to take that trip so he can pop by the pal with the hot wife to "swap"? Did Eskimos do their best to keep a scan out for travelers with pregnant wives so they could turn the lights out in the igloo? And what happens if you knock up your friend's wife on the second half of the trip? Do you get to swap her further down the road?

Not that I would ever go on a trip and leave my Becky with the host while I head off with the wife.

Baby's make good excuses

Because of Bec's constant need to nap, we have a great excuse for not having to make any plans for the next few weeks. We can't promise we can make anything after 8 p.m. unless you have a guest room for her to pass out in. Butterbean keeps kicking her ass. I fear what it'll do at the terrible twos. I really should invest in a safety deposit box to hide the DVDs.

Pretty on the outside

While sitting in the nurse's office, I saw the bookcase had those plastic models of the female reproductive organs. I couldn't look at them. I prefer to be a very surface person when it comes to such a view. I get squeamish. It's that horrifying fear that I'm touching that with my what?

This whole "where do babies come from" thing was much better when reduced to the stork. at no point in the stork story was there any of this business about stretching body parts and bleeding. And as a father, you don't have to feel guilty about what you did to your wife. You just got to blame the stork for screwing things up.

The sofa gets smaller

During the course of our time together, laying on the sofa has always been a wonderful time. We can both fit comfortably. We're wrapped around each other. Now that butterbean is taking up space, Bec is left slightly dangling. I have to suck more into the cushions to make sure she doesn't flop over. But I sense as the months progress that position will a memory. It's a shame she didn't get an ottoman with her sofa, loveseat and single chair combo. We could have used the ottoman as extra belly support.

Guess this means we'll just have to spend more time in the "breakfast time" position.

Waiting in Fear

While stuck in the waiting room, I keep having a fearful vision of the nurse pointing at me and shouting, "Do you know what you did to this girl? Do you know!!!"

But they were much nicer. Today's visit was mostly paperwork. We had to make the first installment payment on the delivery action. Butterbean really is going to cost as much as my 60" High Def TV. That kid better plan on giving me more joy that 1080p.

I discovered that the doctor does not charge by the pound for the delivery.

Also they don't recommend me doing the delivery using the educational film about how to pop out a baby in the backseat of a patrol car. I think they don't like competition.

early nurse call

We have an 8 a.m. appointment to see the ob-gyn nurse. I guess this is to get the "things you need to do while you're pregnant" talk. There goes having becky working the scrum on my midnight rugby team. I'm going along to be the good husband. Although at this moment, I get the feeling of being sent to the principal's office. What did I do this time? I've got another 6 1/2 months of this fun on the schedule.

I hate these things. I don't think the medical profession has ever forgiven me for calling them "Hi Tech Witch Doctors." Skip showed me a film that explained to highway patrolmen how to deliver babies in the backseat of their cars. All I have to do is make sure the baby doesn't fall onto the floor. Cavepeople had babies. Why do we over-complicate a natural process?

Waking up to face the nurse....at least she won't be probing my butt on this trip. I'm going to feel so guilty even with the "compassionate husband" attitude. All this could have been prevented if I'd just given her The CarrotTop treatment.

Becky said this is the week that the child chooses its gender. I'm trying to encourage the fetus to be a boy by pointing out that as a son, he gets a cool name with a numeral. Worked for me.

Lost Excuse

They never tell you the one bad part about not smoking: you lose an escape clause.

At no point when the pressure of the pregnancy get to me am I allowed to tell Bec, "I'm going down to the corner to buy a pack of cigarettes." Which of course is code for, "See if you can find me when I split for Brazil!"

She'll know I'm trying to flee and will lock the door before my Lucky Strike lie can catch fire.

The CDs

Before I met Bec, I had a massive collection of CDs. I'm not sure how many, but it's got to be over 2,000. They pretty much dominated my old living room in Winston-Salem. When I moved in with Becky, they took over the front bedroom. Becky didn't like the piles of music so she first got these giant bags to stash them away under the guest bed and other spaces. Then she bought plastic boxes. They are now piled up to the ceiling in a corner of the room. Because they are piled that way, I rarely dig through to get a CD. It's too much of a hassle.

Of course now that the kid is on the way, we have to make space. No baby wants to live in dad's record room. I'm going to take them up to the father-in-law's place since he's got space that I can turn into the vault. But Bec's hinting I should sell them on Craigslist or ebay. I can use the money to buy an HDTV. Our friend Brandy is doing this.

I can't. First off a majority of the collection is from the BMG record club. I used to hustle the crap out of the 12 for 1 deal. So right off the bat they're worthless to collectors. Also what's the point in wasting that much time having to go to the post office to send somebody their dollar disc? I don't want to have to deal with mailing all that crap.

Plus what if my kid has good taste. i'm going to save him thousands of dollars in buying music. Or avoid me getting nailed for his music downloading.He can use the old man's cds to have a really great iPod.

I can't unload my CDs. I spent 23 years collecting them through various ways. They were my first children. And who the hell would want my complete Undertones collection?

#2

I feel kinda sad knowing that watching the Boston Redsox win the World Series is in jeopardy of moving down "happiest day of my life" list.

ah the costs

So the OB-GYN office called to let us know that before our first visit next week, Becky should call to talk about our insurance benefits.

Hopefully our policy covers the heavy work.

Butterbeans for Butterbean!

Decided that tonight for dinner, I'm cooking up Butterbeans. We'll see if they agree with Butterbean.

Bec can't stand the taste of toothpaste. it gets her sick. Now I have to find something that she can scrub with. Why do kids cause so many problems?

them baby names

if the kid is a boy, he'll get the Joe IV name. But we figured a good nickname for him is Gaston - since we're guessing that's where he was conceived.

Clearing the front room

So over the next few weeks we have to clean out the front bedroom to get it ready for baby furniture stuff. It's strange that I'm moving my toys out for the kid's toys. No need to tease the youngster with my still in the plastic collector's items. What's he going to do with my Bob Crane doll?

What's in a nickname?

Bec's relatives are frightened that I've taken to calling the upcoming baby "Butterbean."

"Don't say that it. It's going to stick," her aunt told me.

They don't understand that in a few months, he'll be Butterball.

Stealing Thunder

My youngest brother calls up this afternoon. He asks if Bec and I are around. I say sure thinking that he's in the area and wants to drop by to celebrate the pregnancy in person. Nope.

His wife (also named Rebecca) is pregnant with their second child. It's due in July. He is nervous about telling our folks for fear that somehow he'll lessen our news. I inform him that such things are impossible since my child is the family Scion. His kid will be the second child so it'll just get hand me downs.

It wasn't that unexpected since they just bought a huge place with extra bedrooms. His wife does want the large family.

But now I know we're going to have to give a baby shower present in the middle of getting one. Smells like the perfect time to re-gift.

Kids and Parties

We went out to a Halloween party that was getting fun, but Butterbean wore out Bec before midnight. So we left early. Who knew that 7 months to go, the Butterbean is already making demands.

Can you hire a fetus sitter?

Crisis Averted

My mother-in-law has returned with my wife. Such a relief knowing I won't have to get phone calls from Dr. Phil wanting the exclusive coverage.

Maternity Shopping

The Mother-in-law arrived at 10:30 a.m. with Beck's aunt Cack and her cousin. They're taking her shopping for maternity clothes. She's not even showing. What's wrong with her wearing my oversized t-shirts and sweat pants for the next 7 months?

A few hours after they leave, the cellphone rings. Bec's mom has lost her at the mall. My wife is missing and I don't even have the last name Peterson. Will Matt Lauer believe me that I have nothing to do with my wife being lost at the mall by my mother-in-law. They better find her or I'm going to be in big trouble with my mom.

New Phobia?

While making breakfast, Becky calls me into the kitchen. She can't scramble the eggs. She's bonded with yokes. So now it is up to me to take the fork to them while her back is to the stove.

10 People My Kid will think are Catholic Saints

William Frawley
Michael O'Donoghue
Leonard Cohen
Rico Petrocelli
Kurt Vonnegut
Dean Martin
Louise Brooks
Brian Wilson
John Waters
Mick Taylor

Screwed Christmas

Had to explain to my 2 year old nephew Will that all the weird stuff I've been stashing for him to enjoy this Christmas have now been shifted over to Butterbean's pile. Maybe he would have had a shot at the gifts if I was his godfather. But since I'm only his uncle, he doesn't get the Richard Scary Book or Grover's "There's a Monster at the End of this Book."

Will still gets the Saturday Morning Fun discs including H.R. Pufnstuf, Lancelot Link Secret Chimp and Roger Ramjet. But he won't be getting the 70 inch High-Def TV that's in 1080p. Maybe he'll get the 50 inch 740i.

Alpha Dog of the Week?

I'd like to put my name in the hat for Colbert's Alpha Dog Award. Because after I did the math, I discovered:

I took my pregnant wife to a brothel for our sixth anniversary.

It was for "work." I did do a massive interview with Dennis Hof of HBO's Cathouse. But it's certainly not something to tell Grandpa over Christmas.

To Get List

Does Whole Foods or the Fresh Market have the best price on Tannis Root?

It's already started

Becky came home feeling sick, puked, ate a little and fell asleep before 7 p.m. The kid is already screwing up my sex life.

Bad Baby Names

I have been informed that any name that can be linked to an ex-girl that I didn't quite date in college is forbidden to go on the baby list name. Also on the taboo list are strippers I knew, women who own more than two cats and Hooters waitresses that I tipped above 15%.

Childproofing

The first thing people do now is child proof their homes. I remember Dan covering his house in foam, cabinet locks, toilet locks and outlet covers. Yet my parents never did any of this crap when I was growing up. Should I really worry about this? I lived through this. And I don't recall going to too many funerals when I was in elementary school for classmates. Maybe I'd be better off getting toddler sized Habitrails.

And what will I do with my porn collection? Guess I'll have to buy a Dick Cheney Man-sized safe.

Autism

Today on the Today Show, they did a piece on a doctor who claims that vaccinations don't cause autism either by how they are preserved or their schedule to be given to kids. The lady doctor on the Today Show had his back and got angry when Matt Lauer called it a "controversial issue."

The problem I have with the issue is that no doctor seems to want to say if autism is genetic. A woman interviewed on the show declared that her son was autistic at birth. So is it genetic or a virus-like illness? With all the DNA testing stuff, you figure in the 21st century they could have cracked this one.

I am worried about this issue since a close friend of ours has an autistic kid. We go over and sort of play with him. But he is completely in his own world. It's hard to communicate with him. It is a fear.

I Blame Dexter

I've determined that the reason for my impending fatherhood is because of this season on Dexter. he's knocked up his girlfriend so naturally my wife has to keep up with her stories. I guess when given the option between being a serial killer or pregnant, she chose the tamer of the two. Although Dexter doesn't bring his work home.

I've also realized after spending time with the children of friends that two months in the womb is the time when they are perfect children. They're quiet. They don't take up much space. They don't kick their moms. They're just wonderful little darlings that allow me to sleep and maintain my usual schedule.

Baby names

If it's a boy, we'll naturally call him Joseph John Corey IV. I think it's cool to have a number at the end of your name. Makes it sound like you've had a political career in the family. Or you're related to Thurston Howell III

If it's a girl, I'm considering Donteven Thinkaboutit Corey. It's a good protective father name.

Day One - The Countdown begins

Bec was supposed to only be going in for her yearly check up with the Doctor who looks at her lady parts. She had recently been having a burping issue and certain foods had given her nausea. I packed up her lunch, defrosted the car and sent her off to her early appointment. About an hour later, she calls.

"You're going to be a dad." The battery on the portable phone dies. Literally it conks out on those words from her. it's like system doesn't want to admit that I'm going to be a dad. I quickly grab the base unit so she doesn't think I'm splitting town. I reassure her that I didn't hang up. That I'm happy. Not that I'm running around the house, twittering the world and mailing out cyber cigars. But I am happy that it has finally happened.

We've been trying to get her knocked up for over a year. We hadn't resorted to any fertility witchcraft. No taking of temperatures or popping herbs from China. I hadn't called my man in Hong Kong to order up some ground tiger penis. We weren't going to go nuts to have a baby. We swore we'd take it in stride and fuck like rabbits.

The news was still a shock. I haven't even owned a dog. What am I going to do with a kid? Before I could contemplate this too long, the phone rings. It's my mother-in-law. I realized Bec didn't hold to our original plan of waiting until the 8 month to announce it. For once the mother-in-law was happy that I had done something to her daughter. She rarely approves of my career choices. She didn't seem to like knowing that I took Bec to the Bunny Ranch for our Sixth Anniversary. But now she was seeing how excited I was. I was still in a state of "MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE?" while figuring out what part of my life needs to be child proofed.

Bec came home and showed me the Ultrasound pic. It's the size of a butterbean so naturally I called it that. She's nearly 2 months along. This summer will not be as quiet as last summer.

I blame this whole thing on Dexter. Why did they have him knock up high girlfriend this season?

Now we get to do the fun part of borrowing other folks baby stuff. And then I have clean out the front bedroom which will now become the baby's room.

Seven months left.