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Thursday, January 22, 2004

There were several ways I could have reacted when David phoned yesterday to tell me, "We're having a boy." (Meaning he and Tammy are having a boy, not he and I. Just for the sake of clarity.)

I could have been disappointed that the baby isn't a girl. After all, we haven't had a girl born into the family since way back in the middle of the last century. I was sort of thinking maybe this baby would break the streak. I was sort of thinking that right up until I heard the word "boy."

The correct thing to say might have been, "Oh, isn't that nice, but it really doesn't matter as long as he's healthy." And if I'd said that, it would have been the truth. It is the truth. (And by the way, he is healthy, and active, and tall. Or "long" is I guess the right word, considering the position he's in, which is not standing up yet.)

Or I could have been really excited and let David know that I was excited. It's cool to know that by summer the household will have three little boys, the oldest aged five. It's neat to know that I'll have another great nephew. It's great just to think of all the fun we'll have with him over the years. This new knowledge is just one more bit of proof that he's a real person.

Naturally, I chose that last option. It's not that I wouldn't be just as excited if David had said "We're having a girl." The fact is, we're having a boy, another boy, and now we know for sure and why not be elated about it? Why not think it's the greatest news in the world? He's on his way, and I can't wait to meet him. I can't wait to hold him.

But I will wait, until probably some time in the second week in June. Hey, that's only four and a half months away. That's plenty of time to forget that we ever thought he might be a girl.

22 January 2004

Today's sky at sunset.

Besides. There's always next time. Not that I expect next time to be any different from this time, no matter which way it goes. If there even is a next time. And I'd better stop now, because it's not up to me anyway. I'm just an interested party with too much to say about something he has no say in.

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I think I'll save the baby's name for when I have a picture of him. I Googled the first name, and there are only about three other people in the world who spell it the same way — a mathematician, a performance artist, and a two-year-old in Ohio. (He's a boy, too. By the way.)

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.

One year ago: I Can See Clearly
"Things have come a long way since I got my first Compaq portable in 1986, with its yellow monochrome screen and memory the size of a pea."

Two years ago: Fragmented
"I was going to write my own clever interpretation of the way the U.S. is treating its prisoners of war, who are not really prisoners of war because there is no war and if there was a war they would be prisoners of war and would have to be treated as such, whereas since there is no war (except when it's convenient to call it war) they're just detainees that we happened to catch fighting on the wrong side of the non-war, and they're much too dangerous to get the rights we would give to them if they were mere prisoners of war, and who says we're torturing anybody, we're not, we're abiding by all the conventional conventions of the Geneva Convention, at least all the ones we think are necessary to abide by, considering there's no war and therefore there are no prisoners of war."

Three years ago: A Softer Voice and a Sharper Eye
"I'm just in awe of the magnificently twisted way the great branches grow out of that sturdy trunk."

Four years ago: Monkey With a Pen
"They eat and drink like Falstaff at a frat party, and I'm just starting another round of the Slim-Fast regimen."

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Just open your window
And follow your memory upstream
To the meadow in the mountain
Where we counted every falling star