Week 8

Hello friends, family and funny people.

So this is the beginning of week 8 in the Chronicles of the First Born.

Amber and I talk all the time about our baby. What's he/she going to look like, whose nose (Amber's), whose eye lashes (mine) is he/she going to have and all sorts of vitally important things.


In fact, just today, after listening to a rousing 5 minutes of Dr. Laura (all I can handle in a sitting), Amber and I discussed whether or not we were going to have a curfew for senior prom. Not a curfew in general, but one specifically for senior prom. You know, that dance our seed will be attending in, oh, I donno, 17 years. I like to plan. Ahead. I like to plan ahead. WAY ahead. Keeps me active.

Anyway, so we were talking about it and - one way or another - I realized that everyday is made of victories and defeats. For me, today was one of victories. Not only did we manage to land a sweet gig as apartment managers, but I was also able to catch Amber in the act of referring to our little adventure-maker as a "he". YES! True victory, sweet tasting and OH so filling!

You must understand, Amber and I love children. Children of any sort. Short children, fat children, male and female children. Even children who smell like freshly roasted rubber - we love those too. BUT - we have a slight wager on the gender of our first born. Amber believes that with all of her shoes and shopping experience, we are sure to produce one of the fairer sex first. I - however - believe quite the contrary. Our child shall be a man. A mighty man equipped only with grunts and nods as modes of communication. A man who sees nothing wrong with eating dirt and playing with things that are sure to put an eye out. Yes, I yearn for a child whose very gender requires more expensive health insurance and will be known as "one of those Harrison boys"!

And today, while discussing the success of our Peter-in-the-pod in growing elbows and eye-flaps, Amber referred to him, as a HIM. SUCCESS!

But just so you know - we don't know the sex of the child yet. And, any way it turns out, I will be uncontrollably excited and happy. It's a baby, man, MY baby. Can you believe that?!?

So our little Master and Commander is growing up. If you take a look at your thumb, that top knuckle, the one just above the little curly black hair on your knuckles - between that and the tip of your nail gives you an rough approximation as to how big our young sire is. The book says he is somewhere between 1/2 and 3/4 of an inch big. He might be tiny, but he could still take you in a fight. He's a scrappy little guy.

In this developmental stage, a big accomplishment is that he has been given sight! Or at least, he is developing nerves in his retina so...eventually he will be able to see. And to round out his face a little more - he has the crest of his nose growing too. He is going to be a handsome little feller.

Anyway, I posted an image that I found on-line of an 8-week old. You might want to notice the digital and toe "rays" - finger and toe buds really - as well as the fact that the ears - inner and outer - are also developing. Evidently, that outer ear takes from now until he is born to be finished. Crazy complicated things, these bodies of ours.

So my child is growing. Larger and stronger and more impressive by the hour. Amber comes home on a daily basis with the feeling that she had climbed a mountain that day. And I don't blame her. Things like growing skeletons and heart valves, those take a lot of energy. Well done, Amber, your courage and effort for our family is always seen and appreciated.

Until next week!