Welcome to week 39, Baby Stalkers! Its the week to announce the Baby Name Champion! We've gone from 32 down to 1. You voted every week, and now the results are here. The last week received more votes than any other, and the name is.......going to be announced at the end of the blog. You have to behave and not scroll down to the end first. That's cheating. Read the whole blog!
We're on the home stretch now, just a few more days to go! But how MANY days? HA! I'll never tell. I really can't hide the fact that I'm pretty much stretched out in here from "coast to coast" so mom and dad know that the escape is coming sometime soon. I was hoping I could be a little more incognito, but they did something a little unexpected. They went on a reconaissance mission.
Recon. Dang it. I didn't see that coming. Those wiley old people finally got one past me. I expected a little bit of monitoring, but another ultrasound? Man, that's cheating! I tried to cover up my escape plans, etc. and was fairly successful at that, but they managed to get a couple shots of my face. Do you know what that means? Now all of the wanted posters at the post office get a new updated photo! My cover has been blown - time to don my fake moustache and beard and hope they mistake me for another baby when I escape.
"Who me? Naw man, I'm not the baby you're looking for. I think I saw the guy though. He's right behind me and dressed up like a placenta. Don't let him fool you!" Heh heh heh....that plan is absolutely FOOLPROOF.Yeah that's right, I'm throwing that no good placenta character under the bus. He tried my patience one too many times, and now the tables have turned. I began my vengeful plot last night when I waited until he was sleeping. As soon as he drifted off to dream about whatever it is that placentas dream about, I stole a bunch of antibodies from him. With this newly acquired stash I'll be able to fight off a lot of the nastiness of the outside world.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not afraid of the outside world. I actually feel bad for everyone out there. They have absolutely no idea what is heading their way soon. 7+ pounds of baby is laying in wait as we speak. If I wait much longer, we'll be talking 8+ pounds of diaper-filling fury. It is the outside world that should tremble in fear, not me!
For those of you who follow the rules, the winning name is Brandon James. For the cheaters who go right to the end, I'll post a fake winning name and just blow their mind. But you'll know the truth. It'll be our little secret. Plus I'll throw in some garbage about that being the selected name. I can't wait to see who falls for it. And now back to the blog - lets talk baby weight!
That's right, as of the ultrasound recon mission on Tuesday, I was just a little under 7.25lbs. And that was before all of the Christmas cookies and snacks! Man, I don't know who this "Christmas" guy is, but he sure knew how to party. I get presents, candy, AND football is on! And for some reason there's an inordinate amount of red and green colored things all over the place.
And speaking of colors, I'm changing colors right now! Like the mighty chameleon, I'm changing colors to blend into my environment like baby camo. Okay that's a big lie. I'm changing color but it has to do with the ever-increasing amounts of fat on my body. I've gone from a pinkish color to a white or blue/pink combo. I'm hoping I turn orange and blue naturally after this because if I don't, I'm breaking out the facepaint. Hey, I told you last week that I'd do it!
That might make me look a little odd at birth, but to be honest I think I'm going to look a little odd at birth regardless of what I do. I mean think about it - my head is going to be all coned-up, I'll be short 'n pudgy, and I'll cry and poop a lot. Basically daddy without the conehead and pudge. I know what you're thinking - babies are beautiful and they ARE. But when I pop out looking like a miniature version of Winston Churchhill with a pointy head, who's going to call THAT cute? It'll take a few days for my TRUE cuteness for achieve maximum potential. In the meantime, don't point fingers and judge. You're no prize either!
And before I forget, I have my "Totally Pointless Baby Fact of the Week" for you. Did you know that I won't cry when I'm born? I mean, I'll scream my head off, but I won't shed a tear. That's because my tear ducts aren't fully functional until a couple weeks after birth. Well, that and the fact that I'm one tough little S.O.B. that doesn't cry.
And finally, the Baby Bracket Champion! The votes ended in a tie, so instead of taking the two names into some sort of tiebreaker scheme I decided to just randomly pick a new one. Dylan Michael Joiner. That's it! And I've talked with mom and dad and it looks like THIS will be my real name! I know we said we weren't going to decide until birth, but this name fits like a glove!
Until next week Baby Stalkers, keep on stalkin'!
-BabyBoy Joiner
Friday, December 25, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Week 38 - Being Tested
Hello there, all of you baby lovers! Welcome to Week 38. We’ve got a lot of updatin’ to do, so lets get right to business.
First off, lets get the Baby Tale of the Tape out of the way. I’m at a little over 7 pounds and a little over 19 inches tall. And for your “weird baby fact of the week”, here’s something weird for you to learn – my head and abdomen are about the same circumference right now. I’m not sure if that means I’ve got a big head or a big belly, but it’s a little odd that I look like a double-sided weeble-wobble person. Remember, weeble-wobbles wobble but they don’t fall down!
You don’t remember that song? Seriously? Well if you don’t, you’re either a lot older or a WHOLE lot younger than my mom and dad. From what they say, those things were all the rage back when they were kids. I can only imagine the other kinds of toys they had back then, like rocks and sticks to play with and dinosaurs for pets.
But enough about those two relics I call parents, lets get back to me and my weight gain. At this point, I’m basically growing an ounce a day until I’m born. I know that may seem small to all of you, but just think about it. I started out WEIGHING just an ounce or two. Now I’m growing that much each day! I don’t know about you, but I think that’s pretty dang cool.
Another new thing for this week is that I’m unveiling my new trick. I now have a killer, baby-vise-like grip. If you don’t believe me, just give me a finger when you meet me and I’ll absolutely crush it. Just don’t give me that middle finger. I know what that means and that’s not a very nice thing to do in front of a baby. Did Philly fans raise you? Nice manners.
Well since we’re talkin’ about my baby paws, its time to bring up my fingernails. They were full grown WEEKS ago, so now they’re a little overgrown. I’ve actually started referring to them as “Baby Talons” because they stick out past my fingertips. Typing ain’t easy when you’ve got these things in the way. They make for some good scratchin’, but I may end up cutting myself a little with these things if I’m not careful. Dad better cut these things once I pop out of here. I don’t want to look like some weird hippie!
While growth might be a bad thing for fingernails, its all good when it comes to the ol’ Gray Matter! My brain and nerves are continuing to grow and mature, and they won’t stop anytime soon. Nope, not even after birth! They’ll grow and grow and grow until my teenage years, when I’m sure I’ll know everything. I mean, isn’t that how things work? Don’t teenagers know it all?
Yeah, that’s my baby sarcasm kicking in. I hear the kind of things that daddy yells to teenagers, so I know the score.
Other than that, the only other thing that’s growing that I haven’t told you about is my collection of meconium. Yep, I’m preparing that first poop every day. I’m lying in wait for daddy to pick me up and then - BLAM! I’ll unleash 9-plus months of fury from the nonspeaking end. Oh yes, I’ll get him back for every poke at my feet, every prod at my back, and every “hey, are you awake?” that he yelled into my ears. Of COURSE I’m awake you moron! You yelled right into my ears!!!!!
My wrath will be of biblical proportions Old Man. You better cash in your 401K for a big supply of baby wipes because you’re going to be busy for a while! Don’t you test me any further! If you do I’ll have no choice but to make a run to Taco Bell and order everything on the Value Menu. God help you if I make it to the burritos.
Speaking of testing (and NOT speaking of the Old Man), everyone is buzzing about this thing called an APGAR test. What the hell is this about? I haven’t even been BORN yet and we’re talking about tests? I don’t know if I’m ready for this. The only thing that’s been tested so far is my patience at the hands of these bumbling parents of mine.
So what’s the deal with this test? Is it multiple choice or essay questions? Is it a Scan-Tron test? Do I need a Number 2 pencil? (I hear those things are very important so I can only assume that they give you superpowers) Will I have to run an obstacle course and beat a certain time? For the love of Infant-Baby-Jesus, would you just TELL me what this thing is about?
Oh heck with waiting on the parents to answer. I’m going online. Let’s see what it says here.. Hmmm. Interesting. According to this thing, I get tested TWICE with the same materials. A perfect score is 10, so I can assume a score of zero means you’re a turnip. It looks like there are 5 categories, 2 points each. Lets break this thing down.
First category is “color”. Looks like I get 2 points for being pink all over, 1 point for being kinda pink, and no points if I’m all blue. Okay, this is a bunch of crap. I’m a boy! Pink is for girls! I think I’m going to just blow their mind and paint myself up Orange and Blue in honor of my beloved Gators. Here, score THIS doctors!
Next category is labeled “respiratory”. I thought they’d be checking my breathing with a title like that, but it looks like I’m scored based on how strong and loud I can cry. Wow. Have they not met my dad yet? With his “yellin’ genes”, I might score 5 or 6 points in this category alone! 2 points my pink little butt – I’m blowing THIS test out of the water!
The third category is “heart rate”. It says I get 2 points for a heart rate over 100 beats per minute, 1 point for a heart rate under 100 beats per minute, and no points for a heart rate of…..well…zero. Little do these poor fools know that I’m studying for this test, so all I have to do is get on the treadmill like daddy does and knock out a few miles to get my heart rate up. Then they’ll be impressed, think I’m Superbaby (which I am), and move on to the next part.
That aforementioned part is called “muscle tone”. Hell yeah! Now I finally get to flex in front of all the pretty nurses at the hospital. And if anybody gives me a weird look for doing it I’ll just say “hey man, I’m taking a test. Mind your business”. My parents don’t realize it, but I’ve been working out while they sleep. Just look at my arms in those ultrasound pictures. It ain’t a secret sweetheart, I’m a machine!
The last thing they have listed is “reflexes”. This one’s got me a little worried, because according to what I’m reading – I get more points for CRYING! What the HELL are they going to do to me? I get one point for “fussing a little”, and no points if I don’t cry. Hey man, ever stop and think that maybe I’m just one tough S.O.B. and I don’t cry for every little thing? What a bunch of crap. They should give me points for NOT crying.
And where are my mom and dad while all this is going on? For the love of God, these people are going to make me cry and you’re just going to STAND there? Well, I’m glad all of you readers get to see what great role models they’re going to be for me. “Hey, lets stand here and watch the baby suffer. The more he suffers and cries, the higher the score!” You insufferable sadists!
They say a score between an 8 and a 10 is a high score and means that I’m “in very good condition”. Psssssh. Tell me something I don’t know geniuses.
Alright, enough of that crap. I’m done with testing. Its time to get on with something much more interesting – the Baby Bracket!!! Its Championship Week, and we’ve whittled the list down from 32 possibilities to this final pair. After receiving a TON of votes this week, its official – Brandon James Joiner and James Logan Joiner are the two left standing. The Baby Bracket at the bottom of the page has been updated, so go check it out.
Thanks to everyone for voting so far, and be sure to vote this week. Remember, the name that wins THIS week will be one of the names that my mom and dad will take to the hospital with them. So here it is – democracy in action. Make your voice heard because you could NAME ME FOR LIFE! Come back next week to find out which name made the cut!
Until next time Baby Stalkers, keep on stalkin’!
-BabyBoy Joiner
First off, lets get the Baby Tale of the Tape out of the way. I’m at a little over 7 pounds and a little over 19 inches tall. And for your “weird baby fact of the week”, here’s something weird for you to learn – my head and abdomen are about the same circumference right now. I’m not sure if that means I’ve got a big head or a big belly, but it’s a little odd that I look like a double-sided weeble-wobble person. Remember, weeble-wobbles wobble but they don’t fall down!
You don’t remember that song? Seriously? Well if you don’t, you’re either a lot older or a WHOLE lot younger than my mom and dad. From what they say, those things were all the rage back when they were kids. I can only imagine the other kinds of toys they had back then, like rocks and sticks to play with and dinosaurs for pets.
But enough about those two relics I call parents, lets get back to me and my weight gain. At this point, I’m basically growing an ounce a day until I’m born. I know that may seem small to all of you, but just think about it. I started out WEIGHING just an ounce or two. Now I’m growing that much each day! I don’t know about you, but I think that’s pretty dang cool.
Another new thing for this week is that I’m unveiling my new trick. I now have a killer, baby-vise-like grip. If you don’t believe me, just give me a finger when you meet me and I’ll absolutely crush it. Just don’t give me that middle finger. I know what that means and that’s not a very nice thing to do in front of a baby. Did Philly fans raise you? Nice manners.
Well since we’re talkin’ about my baby paws, its time to bring up my fingernails. They were full grown WEEKS ago, so now they’re a little overgrown. I’ve actually started referring to them as “Baby Talons” because they stick out past my fingertips. Typing ain’t easy when you’ve got these things in the way. They make for some good scratchin’, but I may end up cutting myself a little with these things if I’m not careful. Dad better cut these things once I pop out of here. I don’t want to look like some weird hippie!
While growth might be a bad thing for fingernails, its all good when it comes to the ol’ Gray Matter! My brain and nerves are continuing to grow and mature, and they won’t stop anytime soon. Nope, not even after birth! They’ll grow and grow and grow until my teenage years, when I’m sure I’ll know everything. I mean, isn’t that how things work? Don’t teenagers know it all?
Yeah, that’s my baby sarcasm kicking in. I hear the kind of things that daddy yells to teenagers, so I know the score.
Other than that, the only other thing that’s growing that I haven’t told you about is my collection of meconium. Yep, I’m preparing that first poop every day. I’m lying in wait for daddy to pick me up and then - BLAM! I’ll unleash 9-plus months of fury from the nonspeaking end. Oh yes, I’ll get him back for every poke at my feet, every prod at my back, and every “hey, are you awake?” that he yelled into my ears. Of COURSE I’m awake you moron! You yelled right into my ears!!!!!
My wrath will be of biblical proportions Old Man. You better cash in your 401K for a big supply of baby wipes because you’re going to be busy for a while! Don’t you test me any further! If you do I’ll have no choice but to make a run to Taco Bell and order everything on the Value Menu. God help you if I make it to the burritos.
Speaking of testing (and NOT speaking of the Old Man), everyone is buzzing about this thing called an APGAR test. What the hell is this about? I haven’t even been BORN yet and we’re talking about tests? I don’t know if I’m ready for this. The only thing that’s been tested so far is my patience at the hands of these bumbling parents of mine.
So what’s the deal with this test? Is it multiple choice or essay questions? Is it a Scan-Tron test? Do I need a Number 2 pencil? (I hear those things are very important so I can only assume that they give you superpowers) Will I have to run an obstacle course and beat a certain time? For the love of Infant-Baby-Jesus, would you just TELL me what this thing is about?
Oh heck with waiting on the parents to answer. I’m going online. Let’s see what it says here.. Hmmm. Interesting. According to this thing, I get tested TWICE with the same materials. A perfect score is 10, so I can assume a score of zero means you’re a turnip. It looks like there are 5 categories, 2 points each. Lets break this thing down.
First category is “color”. Looks like I get 2 points for being pink all over, 1 point for being kinda pink, and no points if I’m all blue. Okay, this is a bunch of crap. I’m a boy! Pink is for girls! I think I’m going to just blow their mind and paint myself up Orange and Blue in honor of my beloved Gators. Here, score THIS doctors!
Next category is labeled “respiratory”. I thought they’d be checking my breathing with a title like that, but it looks like I’m scored based on how strong and loud I can cry. Wow. Have they not met my dad yet? With his “yellin’ genes”, I might score 5 or 6 points in this category alone! 2 points my pink little butt – I’m blowing THIS test out of the water!
The third category is “heart rate”. It says I get 2 points for a heart rate over 100 beats per minute, 1 point for a heart rate under 100 beats per minute, and no points for a heart rate of…..well…zero. Little do these poor fools know that I’m studying for this test, so all I have to do is get on the treadmill like daddy does and knock out a few miles to get my heart rate up. Then they’ll be impressed, think I’m Superbaby (which I am), and move on to the next part.
That aforementioned part is called “muscle tone”. Hell yeah! Now I finally get to flex in front of all the pretty nurses at the hospital. And if anybody gives me a weird look for doing it I’ll just say “hey man, I’m taking a test. Mind your business”. My parents don’t realize it, but I’ve been working out while they sleep. Just look at my arms in those ultrasound pictures. It ain’t a secret sweetheart, I’m a machine!
The last thing they have listed is “reflexes”. This one’s got me a little worried, because according to what I’m reading – I get more points for CRYING! What the HELL are they going to do to me? I get one point for “fussing a little”, and no points if I don’t cry. Hey man, ever stop and think that maybe I’m just one tough S.O.B. and I don’t cry for every little thing? What a bunch of crap. They should give me points for NOT crying.
And where are my mom and dad while all this is going on? For the love of God, these people are going to make me cry and you’re just going to STAND there? Well, I’m glad all of you readers get to see what great role models they’re going to be for me. “Hey, lets stand here and watch the baby suffer. The more he suffers and cries, the higher the score!” You insufferable sadists!
They say a score between an 8 and a 10 is a high score and means that I’m “in very good condition”. Psssssh. Tell me something I don’t know geniuses.
Alright, enough of that crap. I’m done with testing. Its time to get on with something much more interesting – the Baby Bracket!!! Its Championship Week, and we’ve whittled the list down from 32 possibilities to this final pair. After receiving a TON of votes this week, its official – Brandon James Joiner and James Logan Joiner are the two left standing. The Baby Bracket at the bottom of the page has been updated, so go check it out.
Thanks to everyone for voting so far, and be sure to vote this week. Remember, the name that wins THIS week will be one of the names that my mom and dad will take to the hospital with them. So here it is – democracy in action. Make your voice heard because you could NAME ME FOR LIFE! Come back next week to find out which name made the cut!
Until next time Baby Stalkers, keep on stalkin’!
-BabyBoy Joiner
Friday, December 11, 2009
Week 37 - Passing the Time
Greetings from Wombsville, USA! Its BabyBoy Joiner with your week 37 update.
Yes, week 37 is officially here. From here on out, I'm considered a "full term" baby. Do you know what that means? Nothing, except for the fact that a long time ago, some genius decided that 37 weeks meant that a baby "went the distance". It may seem like some big achievement, but come on man. Really?? I didn't put in all this work growing up just for some doctor to rest easy that I've hit his imaginary goal of maturity. Who is HE to say when maturity really happens? Look at my dad - he's in his 108th trimester and I don't know of a person on earth who would consider him "mature" at all!
That being said, there are benefits to hanging around in here. I get bigger, all of my food gets shot down a long tube, I can pee without soiling a diaper, the list goes on and on. The most important of them all is that my dad isn't pestering me to get a job or mow the yard. What's that dad? Clean my room? Its kinda hard to do when I can't EVEN REACH IT!!! Its a pretty sweet situation I've got in here. If you can get past the lack of legroom and constant bouncing around when mom walks, its just like heaven!
That being said, a baby in the next "cell" over from me actually made her escape this week. Congratulations to Daniella on a fast, healthy egress from her imprisonment. It was a bit strange though - she said she was waiting until AFTER I was born before she made her Great Escape. I can only assume that her mom and dad must've heard of her plans of liberation, forcing her to come early to maintain her edge of surprise. At any rate, I hope she manages to send me a cake with a file in it soon. The time to bust out is drawing near.
And speaking of escape, it looks like it is going to be a lot tougher than I originally planned. Why? Because I'm still growing while the only exit remains the EXACT same size. Six months ago, I could've backstroked through there and arrived with no problems. Now? I'm up to almost 19 inches tall and about 7 pounds - a far cry from my small stature all those many moons ago. Trying to escape through there now would be like herding cattle through a coffee straw, but I may have no other choice.
So until then, I'm just sitting here passing the time. I'm practicing my breathing, sucking, sleeping, gazing, and peeing. Wow. What fun. You think THAT doesn't get repetitive? I've tried a few other things to pass the time, but I have to admit I'm getting a little cagey in here. The first thing I tried in an attempt to NOT lose my mind was a slinky. I'll admit that the song was catchy, and yes I fell for it. But you know what I discovered? It DOESN'T walk downstairs, alone OR in pairs! And as far as that "slinkety" sound, I'll just say that all the buildup made the end result quite anti-climactic. So scratch the slinky off your christmas gift list - unless you plan to torment the hapless soul that you're giving it to!
Next up on the list of "things to amuse and distract the baby" was an etch-a-sketch, travel size of course. It seemed so simple yet so promising. All I needed was two knobs, and in exchange I was the sole ruler of that entire flat screen of.....of.....of whatever that stuff is. But after about 2 minutes of etching and sketching, I realized that all this pitiful excuse for an artistic device was good for, was DRAWING STAIRS!!! And don't you DARE point and laugh because I'm SURE that any of you that ever possessed one of these things did a nice up-and-over stair pattern, and then threw it in the corner! Ooooookay, strike two.
My last attempt at amusement this week was the Superball. Now THIS wasn't half bad. All I had to do was wind up, throw it as hard as I could, and it would bounce around like crazy in here. This was naturally followed by multiple chants of "oooo, I think he's kicking!" by my warden/mother. Yes, yes, go ahead and keep thinking that woman! I think I may have found a new diversionary tactic to keep her occupied while I plan out the final steps of my escape.
If you have any suggestions of things I can use to pass the time in here, feel free to pass along your ideas. Right now all I've got in here are lame toys and cortisone. Oh, I didn't tell you about the cortisone? Well, I'm making a ton of this stuff. So much in fact that I'm thinking of boxing and shipping some of it to sell on the black market. I only need a certain amount of cortisone to help my lungs when I start breathing actual AIR. The rest of this stuff has got to go to make room for my Superball and other worthless toys. Oh and speaking of breathing, I've started getting hiccups a lot. It comes from my breathing in this amniotic fluid in here and is considered to be a positive growth indicator.
Like the scale doesn't tell the tale? Seriously people, all you have to do is look at me and its obvious that growth ain't exactly a concern anymore.
But enough of the rambling! Its time to get on with the Baby Bracket! This week we've made it to the Final Four baby names. Only one name remains from each division, and now they will wage battle against each other in a very similar fashion to my battles against The Placenta! Week 37 features the "Battle of the James" and the "Battle of the Logan". Don't ask how it happened, life's just kinda funny that way. Brandon James takes on Connor James for the Northern Bracket matchup, while James Logan takes on Logan Riley for the Southern Bracket. Remember, the bracket gets updated each week at the bottom of the blog, so you can stay updated at all times.
Be sure to vote this week, because the names that survive THIS time go to the Baby Bracket Championship Game! Remember, the winning name will be one of the possible names that I will choose once I make my arrival.
Yes, I said MY CHOICE - do you really think I'd leave my name up to my mom and dad to decide on? HA! My mom can't even decide what to eat for dinner! And my dad? He'll vote for anything so long as it explodes or smells like pizza. These are NOT the kinds of people that I want in the decision making process! I'll simply pop out, let out a huge cry, and then point to the name I like. I may even slap them both just for good measure.
Until next week Baby Stalkers, keep on stalkin'!
-BabyBoy Joiner
Yes, week 37 is officially here. From here on out, I'm considered a "full term" baby. Do you know what that means? Nothing, except for the fact that a long time ago, some genius decided that 37 weeks meant that a baby "went the distance". It may seem like some big achievement, but come on man. Really?? I didn't put in all this work growing up just for some doctor to rest easy that I've hit his imaginary goal of maturity. Who is HE to say when maturity really happens? Look at my dad - he's in his 108th trimester and I don't know of a person on earth who would consider him "mature" at all!
That being said, there are benefits to hanging around in here. I get bigger, all of my food gets shot down a long tube, I can pee without soiling a diaper, the list goes on and on. The most important of them all is that my dad isn't pestering me to get a job or mow the yard. What's that dad? Clean my room? Its kinda hard to do when I can't EVEN REACH IT!!! Its a pretty sweet situation I've got in here. If you can get past the lack of legroom and constant bouncing around when mom walks, its just like heaven!
That being said, a baby in the next "cell" over from me actually made her escape this week. Congratulations to Daniella on a fast, healthy egress from her imprisonment. It was a bit strange though - she said she was waiting until AFTER I was born before she made her Great Escape. I can only assume that her mom and dad must've heard of her plans of liberation, forcing her to come early to maintain her edge of surprise. At any rate, I hope she manages to send me a cake with a file in it soon. The time to bust out is drawing near.
And speaking of escape, it looks like it is going to be a lot tougher than I originally planned. Why? Because I'm still growing while the only exit remains the EXACT same size. Six months ago, I could've backstroked through there and arrived with no problems. Now? I'm up to almost 19 inches tall and about 7 pounds - a far cry from my small stature all those many moons ago. Trying to escape through there now would be like herding cattle through a coffee straw, but I may have no other choice.
So until then, I'm just sitting here passing the time. I'm practicing my breathing, sucking, sleeping, gazing, and peeing. Wow. What fun. You think THAT doesn't get repetitive? I've tried a few other things to pass the time, but I have to admit I'm getting a little cagey in here. The first thing I tried in an attempt to NOT lose my mind was a slinky. I'll admit that the song was catchy, and yes I fell for it. But you know what I discovered? It DOESN'T walk downstairs, alone OR in pairs! And as far as that "slinkety" sound, I'll just say that all the buildup made the end result quite anti-climactic. So scratch the slinky off your christmas gift list - unless you plan to torment the hapless soul that you're giving it to!
Next up on the list of "things to amuse and distract the baby" was an etch-a-sketch, travel size of course. It seemed so simple yet so promising. All I needed was two knobs, and in exchange I was the sole ruler of that entire flat screen of.....of.....of whatever that stuff is. But after about 2 minutes of etching and sketching, I realized that all this pitiful excuse for an artistic device was good for, was DRAWING STAIRS!!! And don't you DARE point and laugh because I'm SURE that any of you that ever possessed one of these things did a nice up-and-over stair pattern, and then threw it in the corner! Ooooookay, strike two.
My last attempt at amusement this week was the Superball. Now THIS wasn't half bad. All I had to do was wind up, throw it as hard as I could, and it would bounce around like crazy in here. This was naturally followed by multiple chants of "oooo, I think he's kicking!" by my warden/mother. Yes, yes, go ahead and keep thinking that woman! I think I may have found a new diversionary tactic to keep her occupied while I plan out the final steps of my escape.
If you have any suggestions of things I can use to pass the time in here, feel free to pass along your ideas. Right now all I've got in here are lame toys and cortisone. Oh, I didn't tell you about the cortisone? Well, I'm making a ton of this stuff. So much in fact that I'm thinking of boxing and shipping some of it to sell on the black market. I only need a certain amount of cortisone to help my lungs when I start breathing actual AIR. The rest of this stuff has got to go to make room for my Superball and other worthless toys. Oh and speaking of breathing, I've started getting hiccups a lot. It comes from my breathing in this amniotic fluid in here and is considered to be a positive growth indicator.
Like the scale doesn't tell the tale? Seriously people, all you have to do is look at me and its obvious that growth ain't exactly a concern anymore.
But enough of the rambling! Its time to get on with the Baby Bracket! This week we've made it to the Final Four baby names. Only one name remains from each division, and now they will wage battle against each other in a very similar fashion to my battles against The Placenta! Week 37 features the "Battle of the James" and the "Battle of the Logan". Don't ask how it happened, life's just kinda funny that way. Brandon James takes on Connor James for the Northern Bracket matchup, while James Logan takes on Logan Riley for the Southern Bracket. Remember, the bracket gets updated each week at the bottom of the blog, so you can stay updated at all times.
Be sure to vote this week, because the names that survive THIS time go to the Baby Bracket Championship Game! Remember, the winning name will be one of the possible names that I will choose once I make my arrival.
Yes, I said MY CHOICE - do you really think I'd leave my name up to my mom and dad to decide on? HA! My mom can't even decide what to eat for dinner! And my dad? He'll vote for anything so long as it explodes or smells like pizza. These are NOT the kinds of people that I want in the decision making process! I'll simply pop out, let out a huge cry, and then point to the name I like. I may even slap them both just for good measure.
Until next week Baby Stalkers, keep on stalkin'!
-BabyBoy Joiner
Friday, December 4, 2009
Week 36 - Time Flies!
Hello there Baby Stalkers! Its Week 36, can you believe it? Man, the time is just flying by. Its hard to believe that a mere 37 weeks ago, all of this greatness that you know and love didn't even EXIST. Now I'm here, counting down the days until The Great Escape. One more week and I’ll be considered a “full term” baby. Honestly, I could arrive at any moment now. That whole January 1st due date is just a guess. Did you know that only 5% of babies are born on their due date?
This past week was a busy one. I kicked things off by partying with some of mom and dad's friends in Gainesville. Some of them actually traveled from out of town to come see me! Yeah sure, they SAID it was the game so their obsession wouldn't seem odd, but I know how that game is played. I hadn't met my Uncle Joe, Uncle Bronis, and Aunt Bennett before. Man they were cool! They gave me all sorts of attention (as they should) and we tailgated. No beer for me though. I tried to tell them that I left my I.D. at home but they weren't buying it. I guess I don't look old enough to pull that one off yet.
After that we hit the game and had a great time. That stadium was probably the loudest I've heard it all season. I always have a horrible view though. I can't see through these damn uterine walls! Come on mom. Even FELONS get a window! Is my behavior THAT BAD? True, I do kick you in the ribs nonstop just for my own amusement, and I wait until you're talking to someone really important at work before giving your bladder a squeeze, but at LEAST let me see what's going on! You better hope that dad DVR'd all of these games so I can watch them later, woman. God help you if I miss a single game!
So here I sit in a windowless cell, doing nothing. Getting fatter and fatter by the day. I’m up to about 6.5lbs now (still hanging at about 18” tall), and about 15% of my total body weight at birth will be fat. Some baby expert out there coined the phrase “round babies are healthy babies”. Now I’ve gotta worry about my SHAPE??? Since when in the hell did it become necessary to come out looking like a basketball with appendages?
Don’t get me wrong, I get what he’s saying. Why not just say “FAT babies are healthy babies”? There’s nothing normal about a ROUND child. In fact its quite odd. I’d spend half my time just trying not to roll around. And the diapers, don’t even get me STARTED on what a mess that would be.
If that anonymous doctor wants me to be round, he’s going to be mighty disappointed. I’m not a beach ball for God’s sake. The only thing that’ll be round and fat will be my cheeks. No, the ones on my face you sicko! Between the layers of baby fat and the workout that they get from suckling practice, I look like a little chipmunk. Um, without the tail.
With all of this “soft round” talk, I’d just like to say that not everything on me is mushy. Quite the opposite. My bones continue to harden every day. They STILL haven’t turned into stainless steel though, I can’t really figure out what went wrong there. I still have this funky little gap in my head where the bones don’t quite meet. I like to think of it as my brain just being too big. The DOCTOR has her own opinion though. She keeps claiming that it’s a necessity for delivery and that my head with actually push into a weird cone shape when I finally escape.
Then again, what the HELL does she know? She hasn’t seen my plans. There’s no way she knows which route I plan to take. True my options are limited, but I REFUSE to think that she has outsmarted me. Unless……PLACENTA! Did you give the doctor a copy of my plans?? You IDIOT!!! Now I have to start from scratch! That’s it, I’m not helping you out anymore. I cast you out of Club Baby! You’ll have to find your way out of here on your own.
What? Yes there’s a Club Baby in here! If you were fetal-sized and able to travel, you might be able to get in here. Of course, you’d never get past the velvet rope unless I allow it. That’s right, I own the club and handle security. Okay, maybe its not a super BIG club. And its not really a velvet rope. I just kinda hold up the umbilical cord and make sure it stays in the way. Hey, its worked so far. I’ve kept everyone out!
One other “unmushy” thing that I’ve got are my gums. They’re actually pretty solid, and they have little bumps and ridges that look a little like teeth. No, I don’t have my teeth in yet. Don’t judge me though – its not like I NEED them right now. Daddy’s not taking me out for a nice steak dinner or my first pizza, and I damn sure don’t need teeth to drink milk. So right now I guess I’ll just gum a few things here and there until my teeth finally do decide to make an appearance.
There’s a big event that should be happening any day now. Its called “The Lightening”. No I don’t mean “Lightning”, and NO its not the next M. Night Shyamalan movie (although it certainly sounds like something he’d use).
What I’m talking about is the big drop I’ll make as I inch towards freedom. I know I more or less started this movie in the past, but I’m not all the way down there yet because I’m still kicking the bejeesus out of mommy’s ribs. Once I drop down completely, its called “The Lightening” because I won’t SEEM to be as heavy anymore and take the pressure off her ribs. The bad news for mommy? I focus on her bladder and all of the fun stuff in her lower extremities.
I’m starting to get rid of that nasty gooey vernix that’s been covering me for a majority of my stay here at Club Baby. It protected me in here from pruning all up like a….like a…..well, like a PRUNE I guess. Now, it just isn’t necessary anymore. So wave goodbye to the “baby Crisco”!
But you just can’t leave it at that, can you? No, you just HAD to think to yourself “but where does it go?” Alright stalkers, you asked for it!!! Truth is, I swallow just about all of it, and THAT will be a good portion of my first baby poop. Don’t let the cutesy name fool you, that first diaper assault will be a fierce one.
And now to the fun stuff, Week 3 of the Baby Bracket! This week brings us to the Elite 8 of Baby Names, and any one of the remaining candidates could actually be mine! The remaining names are:
Brandon James Joiner
Ethan Michael Joiner
Logan Riley Joiner
Cole Reese Joiner
Connor James Joiner
David Andrew Joiner
James Logan Joiner
Jeffrey Scott Joiner, Jr.
Who will make it to the Final Four? Make your voice heard and VOTE! And for God’s sake, remember to have my best interests at heart when you pull the lever on each one of these. I’m handicapped enough being stuck with my dad for life, I don’t need the burden of a horrible name on TOP of that!
Until next week Baby Stalkers, keep on stalkin’!
-BabyBoy Joiner
This past week was a busy one. I kicked things off by partying with some of mom and dad's friends in Gainesville. Some of them actually traveled from out of town to come see me! Yeah sure, they SAID it was the game so their obsession wouldn't seem odd, but I know how that game is played. I hadn't met my Uncle Joe, Uncle Bronis, and Aunt Bennett before. Man they were cool! They gave me all sorts of attention (as they should) and we tailgated. No beer for me though. I tried to tell them that I left my I.D. at home but they weren't buying it. I guess I don't look old enough to pull that one off yet.
After that we hit the game and had a great time. That stadium was probably the loudest I've heard it all season. I always have a horrible view though. I can't see through these damn uterine walls! Come on mom. Even FELONS get a window! Is my behavior THAT BAD? True, I do kick you in the ribs nonstop just for my own amusement, and I wait until you're talking to someone really important at work before giving your bladder a squeeze, but at LEAST let me see what's going on! You better hope that dad DVR'd all of these games so I can watch them later, woman. God help you if I miss a single game!
So here I sit in a windowless cell, doing nothing. Getting fatter and fatter by the day. I’m up to about 6.5lbs now (still hanging at about 18” tall), and about 15% of my total body weight at birth will be fat. Some baby expert out there coined the phrase “round babies are healthy babies”. Now I’ve gotta worry about my SHAPE??? Since when in the hell did it become necessary to come out looking like a basketball with appendages?
Don’t get me wrong, I get what he’s saying. Why not just say “FAT babies are healthy babies”? There’s nothing normal about a ROUND child. In fact its quite odd. I’d spend half my time just trying not to roll around. And the diapers, don’t even get me STARTED on what a mess that would be.
If that anonymous doctor wants me to be round, he’s going to be mighty disappointed. I’m not a beach ball for God’s sake. The only thing that’ll be round and fat will be my cheeks. No, the ones on my face you sicko! Between the layers of baby fat and the workout that they get from suckling practice, I look like a little chipmunk. Um, without the tail.
With all of this “soft round” talk, I’d just like to say that not everything on me is mushy. Quite the opposite. My bones continue to harden every day. They STILL haven’t turned into stainless steel though, I can’t really figure out what went wrong there. I still have this funky little gap in my head where the bones don’t quite meet. I like to think of it as my brain just being too big. The DOCTOR has her own opinion though. She keeps claiming that it’s a necessity for delivery and that my head with actually push into a weird cone shape when I finally escape.
Then again, what the HELL does she know? She hasn’t seen my plans. There’s no way she knows which route I plan to take. True my options are limited, but I REFUSE to think that she has outsmarted me. Unless……PLACENTA! Did you give the doctor a copy of my plans?? You IDIOT!!! Now I have to start from scratch! That’s it, I’m not helping you out anymore. I cast you out of Club Baby! You’ll have to find your way out of here on your own.
What? Yes there’s a Club Baby in here! If you were fetal-sized and able to travel, you might be able to get in here. Of course, you’d never get past the velvet rope unless I allow it. That’s right, I own the club and handle security. Okay, maybe its not a super BIG club. And its not really a velvet rope. I just kinda hold up the umbilical cord and make sure it stays in the way. Hey, its worked so far. I’ve kept everyone out!
One other “unmushy” thing that I’ve got are my gums. They’re actually pretty solid, and they have little bumps and ridges that look a little like teeth. No, I don’t have my teeth in yet. Don’t judge me though – its not like I NEED them right now. Daddy’s not taking me out for a nice steak dinner or my first pizza, and I damn sure don’t need teeth to drink milk. So right now I guess I’ll just gum a few things here and there until my teeth finally do decide to make an appearance.
There’s a big event that should be happening any day now. Its called “The Lightening”. No I don’t mean “Lightning”, and NO its not the next M. Night Shyamalan movie (although it certainly sounds like something he’d use).
What I’m talking about is the big drop I’ll make as I inch towards freedom. I know I more or less started this movie in the past, but I’m not all the way down there yet because I’m still kicking the bejeesus out of mommy’s ribs. Once I drop down completely, its called “The Lightening” because I won’t SEEM to be as heavy anymore and take the pressure off her ribs. The bad news for mommy? I focus on her bladder and all of the fun stuff in her lower extremities.
I’m starting to get rid of that nasty gooey vernix that’s been covering me for a majority of my stay here at Club Baby. It protected me in here from pruning all up like a….like a…..well, like a PRUNE I guess. Now, it just isn’t necessary anymore. So wave goodbye to the “baby Crisco”!
But you just can’t leave it at that, can you? No, you just HAD to think to yourself “but where does it go?” Alright stalkers, you asked for it!!! Truth is, I swallow just about all of it, and THAT will be a good portion of my first baby poop. Don’t let the cutesy name fool you, that first diaper assault will be a fierce one.
And now to the fun stuff, Week 3 of the Baby Bracket! This week brings us to the Elite 8 of Baby Names, and any one of the remaining candidates could actually be mine! The remaining names are:
Brandon James Joiner
Ethan Michael Joiner
Logan Riley Joiner
Cole Reese Joiner
Connor James Joiner
David Andrew Joiner
James Logan Joiner
Jeffrey Scott Joiner, Jr.
Who will make it to the Final Four? Make your voice heard and VOTE! And for God’s sake, remember to have my best interests at heart when you pull the lever on each one of these. I’m handicapped enough being stuck with my dad for life, I don’t need the burden of a horrible name on TOP of that!
Until next week Baby Stalkers, keep on stalkin’!
-BabyBoy Joiner
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