Two-Line Tuesday: Hanging Out

Oh, I'm just hangin',

What's up with you?

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Yes, She's Pregnant

Now that Mrs. Dude is two-thirds of the way through her second pregnancy, I’ve become much more cognizant of people’s behavior toward her this time than during her first pregnancy. And when I say “people”, I mean rude strangers we randomly encounter that we’ll never see again.

Last weekend was our 5th wedding anniversary. We celebrated with a rare night out for just the two of us, as we left the Little Dude with a saintly friend for a few hours of peace and quiet  adult time. I made a conscious choice for us to go to a grown-up restaurant (i.e. no menus with pictures & no crayons anywhere on the premises), hoping that we could enjoy a low key dinner with no interruptions. I should have picked another restaurant.

Don’t get me wrong, the food was great. But I could tell early on that the waiter was going to make this a long night. When he noticed that Mrs. Dude was pregnant he asked the obligatory “When are you due?”. That’s a polite question and she answered it accordingly. To me, that should have been the end of the conversation on the subject. But then he kept asking more increasingly personal questions, and at one point even shared an anecdote about his father’s reaction when he himself was pulled from his mother’s womb. Not wanting my ribeye to be covered in a shallot and saliva sauce, we played along. Begrudgingly. 

After playing Wingman during 1.67 pregnancies, I’ve determined that there’s a hierarchy of inappropriate questions that strangers feel are appropriate to ask a pregnant woman. I don’t know why they feel the inquisition is necessary, since beyond the 90 seconds we are behind them in line at Trader Joes, I wouldn’t recognize them again if I was locked in a Smart Car with them.  So in order from least to most offensive, here are my:

Top 6 Inappropriate Questions Strangers Ask Pregnant Women

1)      When are you due?  It’s a fair question and its answer should be the end of the discussion. If I tell you October 64^th and you tell me that is your great-grandmother’s birthday, am I supposed to care?  How would you like me to respond, “Great, we should have a joint birthday party!”?   

2)      Do you know what you are having?  Many years ago, I heard a pregnant woman answer this question with “yes, a baby”. At the time, I thought that was obnoxious and still kind of do, but so is the questioning that pregnant women incessantly receive. Boy or girl, if I don’t know you, what’s the difference? We didn’t find out the gender in advance when Mrs. Dude was pregnant with the Little Dude. If we made a decision not to find out from the doctor, why do you think I want your opinion, Gas Station Attendant?

3)      Do you have a name picked out?  We always answer “no” to this question because in all honesty we don’t. Some people like to Tweet that they are having a baby named Jemima Alkaline Smith while still holding the wet pregnancy test in their hand. That’s not our style. The problem with this question is that strangers, who know nothing about me, start offering suggestions: “Oh, well Banana is nice!” or “What about Pepcid?”. Guess what, if you don’t know my name, do you really think I’m going to let you name my kid? Maybe if you pulled me out of a burning building you’d earn some say in the matter, but I’d probably at least ask your name then.

4)      Can I touch your belly?  Yours isn’t that much smaller, go rub that instead.  

5)      Are you having twins?  If you ask a woman this question and she isn’t wearing a shirt that says “Future Mother of Twins”, expect something heavy to be thrown at your head. Personally, I would never ask a stranger if she was even pregnant unless her water broke on my foot while she was standing next to me at the hospital.  But some people feel entitled to more or less call a random pregnant woman extra-fat. Thanks a lot, stranger, that’s going to work out well for the hormonally stressed among us.

6)      Are you having a Natural Delivery?  Again, people don’t think about how personal of a question this really is. Do you really need to know if my wife is planning on squeezing 8 pounds of flesh through her private parts? Better question: did you ever wonder why they are called “private parts”? Spoiler alert: it’s because those organs are not a subject most sane people ask random strangers about.

If you are someone I care about, you probably know the answers to many of these questions, but if not, I have no problem with you asking the first three. If you are a waiter named Beelzebub and are endlessly trying to sell us on the merits of giving our unborn your ridiculous name, please do me a favor. Please get me my iced tea already, and mind your own business. 

What inappropriate questions were you asked during pregnancy? 

Rockin' Friday: Anniversary

This week's Rockin' Friday tune was an easy choice. 

Five years ago tomorrow Mrs. Dude and I had our first dance as Mr. & Mrs. Dude to 

Norah Jones' Come Away With Me. 

Enough Said.

Happy Anniversary to my one and only: 

What song did you have your First Dance to?

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

When the doctor finally discharged me he repeatedly stressed one word: rest. He’d had me on 24-hour I.V. fluids for nearly a week and though my body was rehydrated, it was completely listless. Mononucleosis sucks. Especially when you are 17 years old and summer is rapidly approaching. Doubly so if you have an overseas trip scheduled 6 weeks to the day after you are hospitalized.  I knew there was no way I was going to make it onto that plane.

When I returned home from the hospital, the extent of my daily activity consisted of waking up in the morning, going downstairs and flopping down on the couch in front of the TV. All day. Every day. Until it was time for bed when I would sluggishly ascend the stairs to rest some more.  

I knew I would miss the last month of school, which you might think is every teenager’s fantasy.  But two factors made this situation infinitely less than desirable. Like the fact that I couldn’t really eat because my throat was so swollen that simply breathing became a challenge. Or that we didn’t have cable.

I had a set routine, though I don’t remember its exact sequence now. My days were filled with our local Channel 19’s run through classic sitcoms. I didn’t get to hang with my friends at school, so I made new friends to keep me company through my misery. There was Lucy and Gomer, Mr. Belvedere and The Fonz. And especially the Mayberry crew.

Had I been born 20 years later I’d have been texting and tweeting to keep up with the outside world. Instead, I traveled back in time. To simpler worlds and situations that were neatly wrapped up in 22 minutes, accompanied by endless ads for Life Alerts and Life Insurance.  My life should have been beginning, but it felt like it was ending. I had to go on that trip, but how could I plan to go hiking through the desert when a trip to the bathroom left me winded?

I took my recuperation very seriously. I drank at least two giant jugs of Gatorade per day for their electrolytes. I ingested steroids in the kind of doses that people with serious maladies are given. Over the next few weeks I lost 30 pounds, which would be wonderful now but was scary then.

The doctors tried to give me hope that I’d make it onto that plane, but I doubted them. I was pessimistic and felt entitled to be given how miserable I felt every day. Since talking was painful, I limited mine as much as possible. The anguish of isolation did not help.

Finally, with about 10 days until the trip I went to see my Infectious Disease doctor to get the verdict. Nurses checked my vitals and drew 11 vials of blood. Then the doctor ran the most important test he could: asking me if I wanted to go. I did. And so I went. 

One Year Down

One year ago today, as people across the land of the free/home of the brave gorged on hot dogs and watched fireworks to celebrate our nation’s birth, I sat with my laptop while my family napped. I had an afternoon full of independence and no road map.

A few days earlier, a friend had suggested that I start a blog to expound on some ideas that had been bouncing around my skull. I didn’t know what I’d write. Frankly, I’d never even read a blog before. But I figured it out and wrote this.

Was it great? Not really. Was it real? Definitely.

Faster than you can say “publish”, I was hooked. I wrote and wrote, wondering if anyone would discover my little page. I had two readers: me and my wife. I figured I had an original idea writing about being a father staying home with a toddler. Then I discovered the other 90,000 “daddy blogs” out there.

I never thought anyone would ever find my page. Especially when I discovered that Googling “Dude of the House” led to page after page of links to stories about the house from The Big Lebowski. I was going to be more alone than the popular football player in a horror movie. 

I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing, partially because I didn’t know what I was doing. I wanted to see if random people would somehow discover me floating on the web. I didn’t want to force friends and family.  Even now, they usually don’t read my stuff anyway. I wanted to get real neutral opinions. Every time I’d get a comment on a post, I felt like the excited waiter from that Chinese restaurant that is always empty every time you pass by, when he finally gets a customer.

It was this post, written at exactly the 6-month marker of my blog, that turned the tide. People related to the loss and utter void of losing a parent. It helped me begin to heal from that tragedy.  Your responses showed me that I was no longer alone here.

Around that same time, I stumbled upon an amazing community of writers at YeahWrite. I don’t remember how I found them, but I wish I did so I could thank whoever led me to this supportive and inspiring collection of writers.  I’ve met great people amidst the friendly competition.

A couple months later, I traveled to Austin where I met even more great writers. And they were almost exclusively all other Dudes. Some veteran bloggers took me under their wings. I learned some tricks of the trade and returned to LA with a renewed inspiration. Since then, my blog’s output has tripled on a monthly basis. So has my number of readers. It feels good.

Dude of the House is far from the biggest blog out there, but it certainly isn’t the smallest anymore either. I wanted to quit many times, but for some reason didn’t. And last week I published my 100^th post, all of which have been read by tens of thousands of people. Like you. 

If you’ve gotten this far, thanks for sticking with me. Thanks for telling your friends. Thanks for your comments and thanks for keeping me going.  Sitting behind a computer is lonely, but I have the best subjects in the world to write about. And soon there will be one more.  I hope you’ll stay tuned and hang out on the bus a little longer with me, my Little Dude, Mrs. Dude and our loyal watchdog. 

If you want to join me for even more fun, come hang with me here: 

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/TheDudeOfTheHouse

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/DudeOfTheHouse

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/dudeofthehouse/

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/1/b/112836745533948085947/

Two-Line Tuesday: He-Man

By the power of pinwheel,

I have the power!

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Random 10 for July 1

As a writer, the hardest part of the gig is coming up with brilliant topics to write about. Sometimes inspiration punches you in the face and you can’t type fast enough. And sometimes you pull an all-nighter to finish something dumpster-worthy.

One fun way of writing is taking prompts, of which the blogosphere possesses no shortage, and seeing what you come up with versus a slew of other clever scribes. The great majority are just not my style. But the wonderful Stasha from The good life is always a lock for intelligent and thought-provoking topics as part of her “Monday Listicles” series.

When I saw this week’s prompt, I knew had to participate.  It’s a list of 10 totally random questions. With my mind approaching mush lately, and with at least a half-dozen blog posts started-but-not-nearly-finished, this was right up my alley. So without further ado:

1)      Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, and find line 4. What is it?

Given that I have a 6 month pregnant wife, it’s not super surprising that the nearest book to me is a baby name book. Truth be told, the SIX closest books to me are baby name books. The one on top is beyond ava & aiden: the enlightened guide to naming your baby. What’s written on the instructed page is not going to help me at all, though: “Clementine” & “Julia”.  I’m semi-enlightened and all, but since we are having a boy, those names are not even close to my radar.  

2)      How many times a day do you say “Hi”?

I have a 2 ½ year old son, so without counting, I’d have to guess several hundred.

3)      Have you ever worn a uniform?

Does Little League count?

4)      What do you think about the most?

As I mentioned, I have a spirited toddler and will have another kid in 3 months. They occupy an increasingly high percentage of my cranium. How I will take care of them. How I will parent them. How I will teach them. Knowing that my actions and behavior will have a lasting long-term effect on them, I try to be very conscientious. Or as much as I can be without being completely OCD.

5)      How many keys are on your keyring?

Two: car & work. I don’t even have a house key. Weird, right?

 

6)      What was the last thing you bought?

On the way home last night, I bought a supermarket chicken to bring home for dinner. Full disclosure: it was fried.  

Fuller disclosure: I bought a box of Honeycomb, too.  

7)      Are you growing anything these days?

Older: Hopefully wiser.

Wider: Unfortunately.

Kids: And sanguinely more patient with them.

8)      What is under your bed?

A slew of shoes, in no orderly fashion. Not necessarily in contemporary fashion, either.  

And enough dustballs to make a Dyson weep.

9)      What is most important in life?

See #4 above.

10)   What is the strangest word you used this week?

Listicle

Hey, I'd love to hear your answers to any or all of the above questions. 

Leave it in the comments below.