New Dad, Google Search, Preferred Customer
August 1, 2011
I hope you find it as funny as I do that someone found our blog by Googling, “Can pregnant women eat Pringles?” In case you missed that entry, you should read all about my Pringles addiction. It’s shameful.
Also, you may have noticed that I spent an extraordinary amount of time playing on our blog today. Gotta pass the time somehow.
I’m huge. See progression below.
We are 3 weeks and 2 days from the deadline for baby B. This is great news, except it seems like an eternity still. Do you realize that people are actually excited in Texas about possibly breaking the “hottest summer on record” record this year? Call me crazy, but that’s not really something I want to aim for.
I read a really funny tweet a while back that said,
Truer words have never been uttered.
So since this dude is coming soon, we have been finishing the nursery, packing diaper and hospital bags, installing the car seat, frantically reading books to figure out how to care for a miniature person, trying to clean frequently so Mack’s hair isn’t the first thing Beckett eats, and watching as many Academy Award winning movies as we can (not remotely related, just something we decided is on our immediate bucket list).
As we were packing diaper bags the other day, I was showing Taylor these really cute burp cloths I got recently (from the Mundies, for instance). This is what happened next:
Me: …and here is a burp cloth.
Taylor: For what? Isn’t a burp just air? Why do I need that?
The good news is that although he may not be well-versed in burping, he did hold his first two babies a week ago so we’re on the right track. He also has informed me that he is going to be awesome at swaddling. I don’t doubt it. He’s very meticulous about those things.
It’s fun to watch Taylor get more and more excited as the deadline gets closer. He has stopped asking, “What age is LEGO age?” as much and started talking more about the excitement (and craziness) of a newborn. For the record: when I told him that “LEGO age” was like 8, depending on the complexity of the kit, he looked terribly defeated. He cannot WAIT to play with LEGOs. I mean, to play with LEGOs with Beckett.
I firmly believe that if we were to have access to our friends and family’s Google search history, it could be detrimental to relationships. Maybe that’s not true. Maybe most of you Google legitimate things. I, however, do not. Here are a few of my recent inquiries:
- dog sense labor
- help baby drop
- podo hobos (iPhone autocorrect mishap)
- my little pony 5 year old
- the big lebowski f word (260 times, by the way. What a terrible movie.)
- longest breastfed baby
- homemade yellow cake
- what do newborns sleep in
This is actually kind of funny listed out like that. Now I want to know your recent search list. Hand it over in an email…or a note…or in the comments.
Anyway, all that to say: I firmly believe that Mack knows something is up. He has become the neediest, whiniest dog recently. Sometimes we catch him sitting on the tile staring longingly (or maybe enviously or confusingly?) into the nursery. I think his constant licking and laying all over us now is a reminder that he was our first child. The first to be dressed in costumes, first to eat things he found on the ground, first to vomit and poop unexpectedly in the house, first to break a bone (well…a tail. Does that count?)…
We are in a time of life where if something can go wrong, it will. I really believe God is up to something with us because it seems like every time we turn around something new and ridiculous is happening. It’s a definite season of trust.
This past week, Taylor got an email from the bank that someone in California tried to buy $580 worth of stuff in California using his debit card number. Our bank has a pretty good fraud-detection/prevention plan going, so they alerted us before anything really happened. Crisis-averted.
Taylor went by the bank on the way home from work to get a temporary debit card to still use our account. The temp cards they give out have the name “Preferred Customer” on the bottom so they can be used immediately while a personalized card is mailed.
When Taylor got the card from the teller, he asked her, “If I’m filling out an online form to use this, do I put the name ‘Preferred Customer’ as my name?”
He doesn’t find humor in this story, but it still makes me laugh so hard I cry. I asked what his middle initial would be if his first name were Preferred and his last name Customer. I also asked if the teller laughed at him. He said no…and believes there is no reason to laugh because it is a perfectly valid question.
In his defense, he was specifically thinking about the forms that say, “List your name exactly as it appears on the card.”
…still hilarious to me.
Next time I blog, I hope to have a baby. If not, then remind me to tell you about the whole strangers-giving-advice-to-new-moms thing. I’m going to flip out when that happens to me. Be warned, all you crazies at Albertsons.