Tiff had another ultrasound today. She got to find out the sex of the baby. I still don't know, and that's a good thing. I don't want to know. I like surprises. I figure that as long as it's healthy and has all the normal number of eyes, digits and toes, I'll be happy. Actually, if it did have 11 toes, I think I'd still be happy. I knew a guy once in college who had 11 toes. He may have been a mutant, but, as I learned by observing him at parties, having 11 toes is a great way to meet girls. Figures I'd be born with only 10.

Anyway, the baby looks normal. They took some measurements but apparently they couldn't finish because the baby wouldn't hold still long enough for them to be able to see. I sat in the waiting room for what seemed like a very long time. The lobby television was set to Regis and Kelly Ripa and I think my IQ dropped a few points from watching the show after what was actually only about 20 minutes, but what felt like a couple of days. Eventually the technician came out to bring me into the room. Thank god. If not for her timely intervention, I'd probably be a vegetable by now.

I sat on a stool at Tiff's feet and she was laying down on the table. The tech started to press the wand onto Tiff's tummy and immediately I saw a spine. There was a spine, a head, a bladder...it was pretty fascinating! Then the tech started saying, "There's one of the thigh bones" but I didn't initially see a thigh bone. It wasn't until the tech moved the wand and pointed out the actual legs that I finally saw what she was pointing at. The legs, to me, were the most fascinating part of the exam. They were moving so fast! It was like they were jumping in place. No wonder the tech couldn't finish the measurements.

When I saw the legs moving like that I started to think: What is the baby doing? Does this mean that it'll be a dancer? Or will it be a runner? Maybe the kid will end up taking karate and kicking it's way to fame and fortune in Hollywood. Who knows? I don't, that's for sure. But finding out will be half the fun of raising this kid.

Also, I think the baby knows that I don't want to know what sex it is. The reason I say this is because when the tech had the baby's legs on the screen, I think I saw a little, tiny hand covering where it's privates would be so I wouldn't see it by accident. See? I told you our child is smart. Now I really have to start working on teaching the baby to give me a High 5! Till next time,

-andy

Well, I have taken to reading to the baby at night before Tiff goes to sleep. I already had a couple Dr. Seuss books, so it was pretty easy to get started (The Cat in the Hat and Green Eggs and Ham). Then I bought One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish which, as Tiff tells me, is her absolute favorite. It's a good choice, but not one of my favorite. I like the two I already mentioned, plus: Hop on Pop, There's a Wocket in My Pocket, Marvin K. Mooney, Will You Please Go Now!, The Curse of the Cat In The Ha - oh wait, that one isn't by Dr. Seuss, it's by me - I Can Read With My Eyes Shut and Horton Hatches the Egg. But I won't begrudge her 1F,2F,RF,BF. It is a classic, even if it has very little to do with Fish.

Recently, though, I have started reading the original Winnie-the-Pooh books; Tiff has them all in one soft-cover volume. It's pretty cool. That A.A.Milne guy had quite the dry sense of humor. I think it's funny that Christopher Robin looks like a girl. But I guess that was the style in the early 20th century. Thank God it's not the style now.

Anyway, I have been reading to the baby while it is still inside the womb. I felt a little weird and self-conscious about it at first, but I soon got used to it as it was pretty much just like I was reading to Tiff. Only, instead of reading to her face I was reading to her stomach.

Every now and then while I'm reading, she'll stop me and have me put my hand on her tummy because she says that "it just kicked." Of course, I can never feel it. It probably can't kick all that hard, seeing as it's only 4 months old and, just 3 months ago it looked like a random bunch of cells hanging out together for no good reason. But I keep trying to encourage it to kick harder so I can feel it by saying that "this is the only time in your life that I'm ever going to tell you it's okay to kick your mother, so you'd better take advantage of it." But, being a child who I'm sure thinks it "knows everything," as most kids feel, it feels it doesn't need to listen to me. Kids these days. I tell ya...