Update! Things start to get interesting.

Week 30; 8 (?) weeks to go.

Firstly, a quick note to my readers:
Thank you. I'll try to post more often. To make it easier for yourself to follow my less-than frequent blogging, you may want to consider subscribing in order to get an email notification every time something awesome appears here. Just a thought.

New Year's Eve. Goodbye, 2013. Wassup, 2014: The Year of the Babies. I wonder, occasionally, if we should adopt a new year notation system along the lines of B.C./A.D. or somesuch, then I remember that it's not like we're the first parents ever, and if all parents were to reset calendars at zero when their children were born the world would, frankly, be even more confusing than it already is. So we're sticking with the current system.

Now. As noted above, there are roughly eight weeks left before the fetii become infants. This is only an estimate, mind. Our doctor tells us they could come as early as 32 weeks, also known as "too damn soon."

So what does one do in the last waning days before the young'uns arrive? One makes a list, composed of both the mundane (re-organize the kitchen cupboards) and the more fun (revisit favourite restaurants). Truth be told, there's not a ton left. The cribs are assembled, the stroller and car seats have been purchased, the baby blankets have been received from friends and family (and man, we're talking a shit-ton of baby blankets), and so on and so forth. Are we ready? Hells no. And yet (I'm sure I'll regret these words many times over), kind of. I mean, these past 6-7 months have involved a mental transition, largely unintentional, in which I seem to have slowly come to terms with my own impending fatherhood. The idea is still daunting, of course, but is no longer a completely foreign universe. I will be a father. Bethany will be a mother. We will be parents.

Normally, I would end a post like this with something along the lines of "Bring it on," or "I got this." Watch:


...The idea is still daunting, of course, but is no longer a completely foreign universe. I will be a father. Bethany will be a mother. We will be parents.

Bring it on.

Right? But, no. As prepared as I am feeling right at this moment, I am in no way prepared to tempt the fates with such presumptuous arrogance. So let's try again:

...The idea is still daunting, of course, but is no longer a completely foreign universe. I will be a father. Bethany will be a mother. We will be parents.

Bring it on. Eventually.