Big news!

We went to see the doctor today for our baby check up. He said everything was fine and Carly and the baby are healthy. So stop panicking. This is good news.

After taking a look at the ultrasound, we found out something amazing. It seems that our baby girl... actually has a penis.

That's right. We're having a boy! So, stow or return all that pink stuff you bought us (I know you did) because the Wests are having a baby boy!

This is a big mind blower for me. I was so ready to have a girl (not that I'm not thrilled to have a boy). I don't really know what to do with a baby boy (not that I had a clue what to do with a baby girl). I do feel extra proud that I'm going to have a son (not that I didn't feel proud, yadda yadda). He shall be a strapping young lad; rugged, like his father, and strong willed, like his mother. He shall be strong, fast, agile. He shall be smart, confident, and smooth with the ladies (gets that part from me... How you doin'?). He shall be honest and brave. He shall be Levon. He shall be a good man. But, most importantly, he shall love Star Wars!

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Jon? Where can I get leather pants in my size at this hour?"

Good question. Yes, I am excited and scared. The gravity of the situation hit me the other day. I'm going to be responsible for the upbringing of another human being. His entire existence is thanks to me and Carly and how he becomes a dashing young man (in the image of his handsome father) is almost entirely dependent on how we raise him. He'll learn his morals from us (and the Bible. Yay, God!). He'll learn how to walk and eat and perform complicated mathematical equations from us. He'll ask for help from us on the Dewey decimal system. It's a lot of responsibility.

We'll be leaving for Memphis for about a week for a second babymoon. Now, if you're good and behave while we're gone, you just might get a second trilogy out of the deal...

BABYMOON: Episodes 4, 5, and 6? Maybe coming soon.

Oh, and I'll have pictures up soon of the ultrasound.

P.S. When I submitted this blog the first time, the ad that popped up right along side the confirmation page said "Will you have a boy or girl? Take this quiz and find out!"

Too late, Mr. Wants My Information Advertisement. Too late, sir.

It's been a trying time at Chez West

Ok. So, this may now be the most requested blog I've ever had. You guys are ruthless!

First, Lily is doing fine. She's slowly returning to her usual self (i.e. awesome). Her stumbling has gotten better, so she's no longer Stumblily McGee. Her medication made her a little loopy, but now she's wooing and snorting and always excited to see us again!

Second, Carly's phone is working once again. Words cannot express my deep loathing for AT&T.

But, I'm going to try. AT&T is an evil, corrupt entity that belongs in the darkest pit of Hades.

My bank sent a check to them on the 19th of June. They disconneted our service soon after saying we didn't make the payment. No late fee, no nasty note, no nothing. Just, "Oops, you didn't pay us. DIE, MAGGOT!!! YOUR PHONE'S SOUL IS OURS NOW!!! (dramatization)".

So, I called them. From my phone. Because they ate Carly's phone as a side dish with their daily feast of small children and the tears of the innocent. They reactivated our service and told me that all I had to do was send in a copy of my bank statement showing the payment and all would be forgiven. So I did.

Two weeks later: "RRRRAAAUUUGGHHH!!! NO PAYMENT!! WE FEAST ON YOUR SUFFERING!!! (artist's rendition)"

Today, I called them again. Now they want a copy of my cancelled check. So, I'll fax it in tomorrow. Maybe next they'll want blood. And my death.

Third, Carly called me today at work, crying. She had been nauseous all day and was hurting in her hips, her back, her chest, her stomach, and was crampy almost all over. She called our doctor and then the OB department of the local hospital (which is 2 blocks away).

Then I get the call. "I'm going to the hospital. Can you get off work and come with me?" My very awesome co-workers told me to just go. So, I made a mad dash to the hospital, 30 miles away.

When I got there, they had her in a bed, hooked up to a lot of machines with boops and bleeps and an IV drip and that thing on the finger that I think measures husband's anxiety levels. The nurse said that she was mostly dehydrated and the IV was replenshing her fluids. She said everything was looking good: the baby was fine and squrmy (she had a hard time getting a reading on the heart rate), Carly was healthy and as far as they could tell, nothing was wrong. Except for that pain. They ruled out early labor and did a fantastic job calming my fears.

The final issue was that she was craving the Mexican food yesterday afternoon and last night when we went to see Harry Potter (it's awesome, by the way). Now, you may be saying, "But, Jon, you impressive specimen of manhood, why won't you return my phone calls? Oh, and what does Mexican food have to do with anything, you stud? (call me)"

The gallbladder is quite the interesting organ. One of it's duties is to release bile produced by the liver when the digestive tract has fat present. If you've had too much fat in your diet from, say, Mexican food, your gallbladder may not be able keep up. Then you hurt.

This is what has happened to Carly, we think. It's common in pregnant women, and it will probably go away when the baby comes. So, for now, we now have to try and keep a low fat diet and she needs to rest a lot. To her credit, she's been the one of the most pleasant pregant women that I've ever seen. No weird cravings, no unbearable mood swings.

Now that my two favorite girls are on their way back to good health, Lily's been a little protective of Carly. Case in point: The above picture.

Lily's had it ruff...

Last night, around 4AM, I was peacefully sleeping. As I stood there, laughing at my vanquished foes and looking amazingly ripped in my barbarian garb, a voice called out to me from the ether. "Jon," it said faintly as I hefted my broadsword. "Jon..." a little louder this time. How can a person cleanse the moors of my foes and hear the lamentations of their women with all this noise? "Jon! Wake up, now! Get in here!" said the now panic stricken voice.

Carly was screaming from the other room. Snatching my broadsword... glasses from the bedside table and vaulting over the pile of baby stuff in my way like an Olympic hopeful, I sprinted to the living room. Both Carly and Lily were on the floor, Lily in the midst of a seizure, her legs straight out in front of her, breathing heavily, Carly on the verge of tears. I ran to them, found my phone and told Carly to call the emergency vet line while I held Lily. My main concern was keeping Lily safe, meanwhile making sure Carly didn't go any more hysterical. Lily was unresponsive and I could see she was petrified scared and foaming a bit around the edges of her mouth. Eventually, she started to come back around, slowing gaining control of her muscles. The worst part, aside from the stomach-churning feeling of utter helplessness, was watching her blindly trying to stand up in the middle of her seizure. She was on her belly, her little back legs straight out, trying to get her front paws under her. Slowly, painfully, she managed to get to to a crouch, looked around at me, and her tail started to wag rapidly. She recognized me and was coming around.

The vet told us to watch her and she if she did it again. She slept the rest of the night/morning and seemed fine for most of the day. I was at work, so I can't report on what happened during those hours (pester Carly for a blog!!!) but at dinner, she had another one. We've got her on aspirin 81mg (vet's orders) and we're still keeping an eye on her. Carly's sleeping on the couch, and I've taken to sleeping on the floor right next to her near Lily. It's no Holiday Inn, but I've had worse. It's a good thing I can sleep just about anywhere.

As far as baby stuff goes (bet you thought I'd forgotten the name of this blog), momma and baby are doing fine, if a little scared. I did see the baby move a few times. She's been pushing on Carly's stomach and bladder, so she's a little miserable. I fine too, if anyone cares. I know my place in the pecking order...

Doggy Medication

Ahhh, the Fourth of July.

Our Independence Day.

The day we celebrate our nation's birth by searing dead animals and blowing things up. It's the last part that makes the holiday so rough around Chez West. Our wonderful dog Lily, who is just the best thing since bread decided to come to my house in evenly distributed pieces, is afraid of loud noises, like bangs or thunderclaps.

Which is all we get this time of year. So, when we recently went to the vet to have her semi-whenever-we-remember check up, we asked the vet about how we can calm her down.

During the check up, she was subjected to all sorts of humiliations. And if it's any indication as to how I'm going to be as a father, the answer is: not so great. I felt uncomfortable as he took her temperature. I couldn't watch as he gave her her vaccinations. I cringed as he took a blood sample. I was on edge as the heartworm test came back (negative, thank goodness). I almost fell asleep as the vet spoke to us in one of the most monotone voices I've ever heard. And this is a dog, for crying out loud, not even a human! Not even my daughter!

He gave us some pills to give to her whenever we think she's going to have a rough night. Some doggy downers if you will. She took one last night. It was heartbreaking. The poor dog had no light in her eyes, she stumbled around, and could barely keep her head up. It broke my heart. But, on the bright side, I did get to try out my "stoned Lily" voice. Oh, yes, the dog talks to us.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention the passing of an icon. His performances enthralled millions and brought joy to their hearts. He was underappreciated in my opinion for most of his career, but his ability and passion was never questioned. His work defined a generation.

And it's with a heavy heart, that this blog post is dedicated to him.

An Ode to Billy Mays:

Your yelling made it easy
For us to get to know
The wonderful magic
That is Orange-Glo.

30 second spots
Gave us time to glean,
All the stain fighting power
Of Oxi-Clean

But that short time here
gave us little room
to judge for ourselves
the strength of Kaboom

So, goodnight, Billy Mays
Your passing left our hearts rended,
But, we can fix it
With a dab of Mighty Mendit.