Saturday, April 27, 2002.
My BDue Date: May 14. But Amy could deliver ANY DAY NOW!!!
It's a quarter to five. I'm on the road going to work (the late shift).I hit one of two preprogrammed numbers in my cellphone - Amy's cellphone number.
The other number is some tattoo school. I had briefly fantasized about learning how to tattoo in my spare time a while ago. My femininjas and yuhjuh-doe ("way of woman") warriors would be inscribed onto countless living breathing canvases, essentially becoming alive themselves. And possibly possessing the tattoo-wearers when all my plans were set into place.
I even had my own "angle." I mean, how many tattoo artists out there are real medical doctors with artistic talent?
Well apparently, the guy who owned this tattoo school was some sort of medical doctor himself. I only talked to him on the phone but after doing some research, it seemed far too expensive and time consuming. And unrealistic.
"Hel-lo?" Amy answers.
"Hey babkins, what're you doing?" I ask.
"I'm driving home. I had my doctor's appointment today."
"How'd it go?"
"I made a lot of noises when the doctor examined me?"
"Wha-? What do you mean, noises?" I ask suspiciously.
"She sticks her whole hand in there. And I go 'OHOHOHAGHGHGHHG' then I laugh when it's done. The nurse laughs too," Amy clarifies in explicit audio detail.
"The doctor felt the baby's head. She said it's dropped and my cervix is right where it should be. I have to go, baby," Amy says.
"Okay, I'll talk to you later."
"I love you," Amy tells me.
"I love you too," I tell her and she hangs up.
Amy and I have been living in different worlds this month. Her work day ends at 5 p.m., while mine begins at 5 p.m. When I get home, she's always asleep. When she goes to work in the morning, I'm always asleep. We've really only been seeing each other on weekends this month.
Amy's been missing me too. Once I even found one of the korean tapes that I hadn't watched yet, in the VCR. I asked Amy about it, since she only watches them with me when I make her watch them with me. She told me,
"I watched it last night with … The LIGER! We pretended you were here."
We've also seen each other on the road driving past one another while one is going home and the other is going to work. Twice while we were talking to each other on our phones we could see the other drive by and laugh. Sometimes at stop light traffic too.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at 14 mile road now."
"So am I. Are you waiting at the light?"
"Yeah. I'm three cars behind the white truck in the middle lane. Can you see the truck? Where are you?...."
Car-crossed lovers, I guess. With a baby on board.
I've been hearing a lot from other couples regarding their babies. Hearing "Oh your life is going to change so much!" Or "are you excited?"
And I'm always like "So I've heard" and "I am (excited)."
I mean, I am, but I think it's something you can't really imagine until you are there.
The profound thing is that there are very few times in your life when you can honestly say my life is about to change in a HUGE way from here on. And it does.
Like when you move out of your parents' home. Or graduate. Or get married. Or accidentally return your own private home-made tape in place of the weekly K-pop Top10 tape. In Korean, gossip starts with a "K" ("ko-ship").
Actually, getting married didn't feel like much of a change at all for me or Amy. We were having fun before and after pretty much the same. Marriage didn't spoil anything (except I got stuck with cleaning the kitty litter box).
But having a baby. That is a life altering milestone, I hear. No turning back from that one. No more "just you and me" at home sitting in our underwear (well, one of us at least) in the same place for eight hours straight. (Actually, Amy is usually watching TV while I am usually on the computer.)
To imagine that in roughly three weeks (or any day now even) my life will be totally different is really hard to imagine.
This morning, for instance,
I woke up late (because I went to sleep too late),
surfed for a while,
got up to HERO ranking on Virtua Fighter 4 (not an easy task mind you),
tasted something awful in my mouth,
realized that it WAS my mouth,
continued to ignore it,
played some more,
put some pants on,
checked the time,
showered for work,
(and got rid of that annoying Baboon's Ass Mouth Syndrome via brushing).I suspect this highly-productive routine may be altered by having a dependent little baby in the house. (No, ... The LIGER! doesn't count.)
I really am looking forward to finally being able to see and play with Baby Boy (and all that other nasty stuff you have to do). But it's a little hard to imagine I'll be turning into a different person any day now. Moving onto the next stage of life.
A friend (in real life) once told me about the five stages of life that his father had taught him. These were the greatest turning points in one's life.
"First stage," his Korean father would say, "is birth. Second, starts when you move out of your parents' house and can support yourself. Third is when you get married. Fourth starts when you have children. And the fifth stage you die."
To which my friend, who is single, in medical school, and still lives with his parents, said,
"I think my dad really just wanted me to move out of the house. According to that scale, I'm 29 years old and still a fetus."
So I guess it's getting close to that next stage of life. The really fun part, according to most parents I have talked to. Which I believe, since few things are nicer than a hug from my nieces.
It's probably about time I learned how to erase that tattoo school number from my cellphone too.
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THE WHO'S YOUR DADDY CLUB
More happy daddies here:
Matt Sturges - has returned! Amazing writer, published fantasy author, and a pretty funny guy (more funny than pretty though).
Paul - rocket scientist, brain surgeon, new daddy, and all-around great guy.
and Danny - reformed gangster, moonlighting transvestite, and only the Nosferatu know what else. He's also a comedian ... I mean, a "Korean."