I wrote this post about a year ago as I was mulling over the creation of this blog while also celebrating the creation of my baby.
January, 2010
My back started to hurt today. It was weird -- I took one step out of the door of my basement suite on the way to work and midstride it felt like a piano tuner was changing my spinal cord from a low C to a high F.
I couldn't understand it. Am I so old (I'm only friggin 29!) that I can hurt myself just walking? Then it dawned on me: My back was hurting because I've been carrying my household on my shoulders for the past three months. Since my wife Sports Joanne and I found out we were going to have a baby she has turned from the healthy, happy, hard-working woman I married into a loafing, tooty, moody, whiny, sickly piece of couch furniture and now I'm doing all the work around here.
I'm not used to all this work around the house. I normally have two jobs: take care of all the garbage and do the dishes roughly half the time. I do job number one very well. Job number two takes longer so I often skip it and watch basketball instead.
The rest usually gets done by my super sweet wife. Not anymore. Smells make her sick so she doesn't go into the kitchen anymore. Cleaning products can hurt the baby so she doesn't keep our stuff clean anymore. Everything in the world makes her sick yet her immune system still allows her to watch One Tree Hill -- the swine flu of television dramas.
What's worse is she doesn't even have a hot little baby bump yet that I can play with incessantly and eat Nutella off of when I need a chocolate-hazelnut snack.
God, the sacrifices I make.
Of course, baby doll, I'm kidding. You're doing the magical work of making our beautiful baby and the two chapters of What to Expect When You're Expecting I've read say that what you're going through effing sucks big time. You're beautiful, I love you and you know I'm only kidding so don't fart on my pillow.
For the Sportses (that's us) it's all headed towards something that will be terrifying, poopy and amazing, and in this blog we're going to keep you posted on what that's like. And for those of you detectives out there who noticed our names and thought to yourself, "I wonder if these guys like sports?" and also "I wonder if Sports A is writing this at midnight while Sports J lies beside him on her back in a new, vomit-fighting sleeping position known as 'tiny baby, snoring dragon?'" The answer to both questions is yes, you Perry Mason mofo.
Sports will be a part of every one of these postings as we'll do our best to relate what's happening to our baby to what's happening to all the babies in the world of sport who make magic on the field of play, make memories that we all love and share, and make babies of their own with waitresses at Chili's.
Right now we're two weeks away from the start of the Olympic Games here in Vancouver and there's no snow on the mountain where freestyle skiing and snowboarding will be held. I'm sure the organizers are worried that maybe they shouldn't have put winter sports into a city that gets snow approximately 18 hours out of every year. I'm sure the organizers are thinking that there's too much at stake, that they can't F this thing up. I'm sure they're a little terrified, praying that Mother Nature takes pity on them and makes everything OK. As a soon-to-be first-time dad with a baby the size of a prune swimming two feet away from me, I think I know how they feel.
No comments:
Post a Comment