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