Parenting Magazine

Can’t Get the Theme From ‘Hawaii Five-O’ Out of My Head

By Bigdaddycarlos @BigDaddyBlogger

Looming Ocean Wave BigDaddyBlogger.comIn my less-than-storied past, there was a good three-year stretch when I was a pretty avid bodyboarder. Anyone who has spent a good bit of time in and around the sea comes away with a great respect for the power of nature, along with the propensity to see the ocean as an allegory for the vagaries of human existence.

One aspect of surfing that many overlook is the waiting. There is a lot of just paddling around and keeping a weather eye out for the next swell to take a shot at. One can only be on the lookout for so long before your attention span drifts elsewhere. No matter though, a big wave has an early-warning system that lets you know it’s coming your way. The undertow grabs your board and pulls you toward it. You turn to see what’s coming, already knowing you’re too late to make anything of it. You glance upwards at the lip of a looming wall of water.

Oh, Scheiße.

That pretty much sums up it for me right now. We have a date—October 22nd—for our planned c-section. That is all well and good, but Baby Momma’s body is doing it’s best to prepare to deliver BGV, frank breech and all. Her lady parts have apparently not gotten the memo.

To: Reproductive System; Baby Momma Vazquez
Fr: Baby Momma Vazquez, Big Daddy Carlos
Re: C-Section

This memorandum is inform you that a Caesarean section, having been scheduled for the twenty-second (22nd) day of this month, obviates the need for you subject your host organism, Baby Momma Vazquez (BMV), to needless cramping, edema, et. al., ad nauseam…

If only that would actually work.

Now we’re in the curious situation of waiting for the other shoe to drop despite the fact the we have a scheduled shoe-dropping in less than two weeks. The hardest part of all this for your intrepid scribe is watching Baby Momma struggle with sleeping and just plain old getting around. That said, both my wife and I would just love to be able to relax knowing that BGV will be here with us in a fortnight. However, the aforementioned reproductive system may have other plans.

On the Santa-killing front, I’m done with my month-long cardiac study, but it will be another week before I find out if need a pacemaker. (When I met my father-in-law, I had no idea that I might end up having that in common with him. Yikes.) At that time, I’d also like to get the official word on what I am and am not allowed to do, physical activity-wise. I know I’m not allowed to mow my own lawn or train for next year’s Mr. Olympia, but perhaps 30 minutes of walking? My condition is such that I actually start to feel winded just walking around and I want to make sure it’s safe. Don’t want to drop dead just now, ya know?

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