Melissa Is Finally Blogging!

...and Paisley is her muse. It's nice to see her joining the "sphere."

Check it out... http://paisleypigpress.blogspot.com

The Lazy Man's Blog Post

One of the nice things about having a kid is that it's easy to satisfy my readership (all 3 of them) by simply posting new pictures of Paisley. Yea its the lazy way out... but hopefully more will be on the way soon!

Paisley - 6 months

Paisley - 7 months

Paisley - 8 months

Reverend Alan’s Farewell Tour

When I originally became an online-ordained minister, I never intended to make a business of marrying off all my friends. I figured God would forgive me – once – for manipulating California’s liberal marriage laws. But a second time? I’m not so sure.

When my good friend Joe (supposedly) first asked me to marry him, I didn’t hear him. So goes the next 4 months with me oblivious to my (supposedly) promised marriage service duties and him planning out the wedding around my (supposed) services.

I’m still not sure how the misunderstanding began… perhaps I was in denial? Spaced out due to my persistent insomnia? Or maybe he didn’t really ask me like he thought, instead assuming I would gladly assist being such the good friend that I am.

I was happy to do it of course. And in retrospect, it worked out much better anyway since I only had to stress out about it for a few months.

Friendly note to brother, sister and single/engaged friends: Despite rumors to the contrary, my days as a web-appointed conductor of marriage ceremonies has come to an end. I look forward to participating in other ways such as planning bachelor parties, drinking your wine, enjoying you DJ/Band during the reception, and all other activities that do not cause sleepless nights, writer’s block, sweaty palms and stress headaches.

Joe, Deb

As you embark on this exciting journey as a married couple, I’d like to speak today about different representations of love.

Some common representations of love, at least according to Saturday morning cartoons and big budget Hollywood movies, usually involve cupids, love sick squirrels, pimply-faced pubescent nerds who win the heart of the homecoming queen or they recount an epic fairytale about a dashing protagonists named Wesley rescuing the fair maiden Buttercup from the evil Prince Humperdink while avoiding Sicilian criminal geniuses, pituitary gland challenged ex- wwf wrestlers and expert Spanish swordsmen with ridiculous mustaches.

These perspectives provide great movie fodder, however they fall short when challenged with the sober realities of real-life. Sure, we see a glimpse of the excitement that new love can provide, but can that adrenaline rush support a lifelong commitment? More importantly, is it fair to expect ourselves to sustain that crescendo of emotion?

If looked at from a different, angle, there is also the sacrificial element of love. And when I say sacrifice, what I really mean is surrender, concede, or capitulate! No, of course I’m kidding. There IS however an important sacrificial element to the commitment you are making. This sacrifice represents your willingness, to be challenged by different opinions, to be patient and understanding even when you know you’re right. And to accommodate your partners concerns, even when it’s inconvenient, unpleasant or uncomfortable. It also means Deb, that you need to be understanding of Joe when he’s grumpy… which as we all know is a pretty common occurrence.

And this sacrificial love leads in to the final description of love I’d like to talk about today which is the faithful, committed kind. You will experience peaks and valleys of emotion during your life together. Sometimes you will be cruising through your days & weeks on autopilot, with mild to moderate chop, skillfully avoiding thunderhead’s that you have become so adept at detecting, while other times you’ll feel the rush of a full-throttle take-off into crystal blue, sun-soaked sky. Either way, your consistency, reliability and steadfast devotion to each other through these variable conditions is what will make your marriage so exciting and important.

Honey-Do List

During our pre-Paisley days, my chores usually consisted of the standard issue husbandly duties such as:

1. Taking out the trash
2. Putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher
3. Cooking 90% of meals
4. Rubbing wife's feet while watching Entourage
5. Rubbing wife's shoulders while watching Big Love

Now, however, my responsibilities have become much more technical. So here you go Miss, we are now up to date with uploaded baby pictures on the blog!

2 months...
















3 months...














3 months part 2...














4 months...














5 months...














Hawaii trip...

Mission Impossible: Accomplished (sans the baby benadryl!)

By the way, Yes. Prayer works.

How do I know? Because we weren't thrown off the plane to or from Hawaii. I'm happy to report that our daughter decided to grace us with 5 hours of relative silence and solitude to and from Hawaii, despite the flight attendant who could only speak at 70 decibels or louder even while staring directly at a sleeping Paisley in Melissa's lap.

Our first family vacation was a roaring success though I quickly realized that vacations with baby are radically different than trips as a young, exuberant childless married couple.

With a 5 month old in tow, the quality of the accommodations and room service are exponentially more important because the vast majority of our time is spent on the hotel premises verses, say, snorkeling with giant sea turtles or eating wild guavas on a nature hike.

Not to say we didn't have a good time! It was much cooler to chill on our hotel room lanai watching the resident hotel dolphins perform back flips than suffer through another week of a muggy Austin summer or smoggy Redlands July. And munching on sushi while Elizabeth Taylor sips Mai Tais at the bar next door aint too shabbby either.

Certifiably Crazy

…is what we are for having the audacity to take our 4 month old on a 5 1/2 hour plane flight to Hawaii. At least according to conventional wisdom.

But you know… screw it. I'm tired of hiding from public view so as to not (gasp!) interrupt some first class snob's cat nap for the 5 minutes it takes Paisley to gurgle and burp herself to sleep.

Here's a quarter, invest in some foam ear plugs.

Am I being selfish?

I say no. Since this trip really isn't for me. I think baby's first vacation is way over due. She seemed to develop a travel bug around month 2 and hasn't ceased in her pleas for a family trip.

Apparently she wants to swim with the turtles.

Furthermore, its not like this will be her first foray into air travel. With 2 successful trips between Austin and SoCal and one trip to Kansas City, she's well on her way to earning her wings. Hopefully we'll once again avoid hitting her self-destruct button…though we'll bring the baby Benadryl just in case.

Thine Poo Floweth Freely

It’s not hard to describe all the funny/happy/surprising events one enjoys as a father. One simply needs to act the journalist, happily reporting on the day's events:

My kid is so advanced…

My kid is so cute…

My kid is so funny…

My kid is (add adjective here)

The complications arise when describing those “other” interesting parental experiences. The ones that every parent suffers through but are, for the most part, kept safely hidden from public consumption lest we scare off other would-be breeders from the joys of parenthood.

Fore example, how does one describe a catastrophic baby poo incident without devolving into snickering juvenile potty humor?

My solution came unexpectedly one day while Melissa rummaged through her old high school letters and school work. Out came an inspired and hilarious limerick she wrote in her 12th grade creative writing class about - get this - Richard Nixon! Incidentally it had nothing to do with Nixon as a President, his public persona… or really anything remotely distinguishing any part of life. It WAS however a brilliant snapshot of Melissa's 18 year old brain and a reminder that you can flower up any type of subject matter for poetic purposes.

But what form should my pooriffic poem take?

Haiku? Free form? Sonnet?!

Of course! A Shakespearean Sonnet! I'll just call upon my old friend iambic pentameter to bail me out (once again):

Bursting t'words heavens blue; bisque streams exhumed

So spew-ith ye bum in lupine relief.

Calamitous fallout! White chair consumed

Bewildered clutch I bleach pen and kerchief.

But after the first quatrain I began to question my sanity.

My Baby Is Smarter Than Your Honor Student

Sure, every parent considers their child to be advanced, but seriously folks, Paisley is operating at a whole ‘nother level.

Like just yesterday she rolled over onto her back from her tummy with nary a nudge from her daddy.

What’s that you say? Big deal?

Well did you know that babies aren’t even supposed to do that until they’re like 4 months old?

Still not impressed? Well after she rolled over, she sat up and asked her mom for her boob.

And I’m not talking about whining and grunting which most babies are reduced to these days.

Seriously, she pointed her stubby little finger at Melissa’s rack and demanded: “Mom! Boob!"

Yea, it totally caught us off guard because up until that point, Paisley only communicated with us and Moby telepathically.

Ha ha, I know; its quite a thing to watch your daughter debate tax policy with your pug while she's calibrating your home theater system.

Click for the new set of pics!

Bad Influence

C'mon Melissa... ALREADY!?
Can't we start her off with something a bit tamer? Like Big Lots or the 99 cents store?

The Obligatory Texas Wildflower Picture

One beautiful spring day during my second year as a University of Texas undergrad, a strange sight caught the corner of my eye as I barreled down IH35. Off to the right side of the road, a young couple stood motionless, staring at the grass covered hill running parallel along the highway. Their car seemed fine, they didn’t seem distressed. They just stood there, staring at the ground and pointing.

“More Texas weirdos” I mumbled to myself as I drove by…

Then a few days later, another young couple - also staring at the ground, this time with a a camera; no car wreck, smoking hood, or flat tire in site.

Luckily, this time around my travel companion happened to be a native Austinite who educated me on the Central Texas tradition of taking pictures of your new baby surrounded by Bluebonnets during the 6 to 8 week-long springtime wildflower season.

Great idea I thought, but on the side of the freeway??

Sure, the highways are gloriously abundant with swaths of blue, pink and yellow Texas wildflowers – thanks in part to the Ladybird Johnson-inspired Texas Department of Transportation’s wildflower planting program, but certainly there are safer photo-worthy locations to be found in Austin!

Luckily I found such a place. So in my unrelenting attempt to play the part of the consummate texas wannabe, here are Paisley's safely-taken-out-of-harm's-way Texas wildflower pictures:

(click for more!)

Here they are...

It's a strange thing when the theme of the vast majority of all the phone calls you now have with your family focus predominantly on 1) when you're going to post new pictures of the baby on the blog and 2) why you've been such a slacker with posting new pictures of the baby on your blog.

What happened to the good-ole standby questions:

1. The weather looks like it sucks in Texas. Is it humid?
2. The weather looks like it sucks in Texas. Is it raining?
3. The weather looks like it sucks in Texas. Is it hot?
4. When are you coming to California?
5. When are you moving back to California?
6. Tell me again why you are living in Texas?
7. C'mon... Texas? Really??

So now that I've posted new pictures of the baby (see below) here are my answers to the other inquiries for the month of March.

1. Yes
2. Yes
3. Yes
4. July, maybe May
5. Don't know
6. Good margaritas, no state income tax and 2000 sq. ft houses for less than 700k
7. Yee Haw!


(click each to see the whole set)

Paisley at 2 weeks:

























Paisley at 3 weeks:

























Paisley at 1 month:

The Truth: Finally Revealed

"Where did all that hair come from?"

Is what everyone seems preoccupied with.

Are these inquiring minds challenging my paternity rights?

The very farthest, darkest reaches of my mind are challenged by these questions.

Certainly a Dannielynn Hope Marshall Stern-esque paternity fiasco could never transcend the pop culture barrier into MY family life...?

And then suddenly, a picture arrives in my inbox - sent to me by a concerned but anonymous "interested party."

So I ask you fair reader... you be the judge!

Exhibit A:


Exhibit B:



Melissa has alot of explaining to do...

Parenting Lesson #1 - Babies Are Not Pugs

After six days as a father, I like to think of myself as having remarkable acumen in baby matters.

So after extensive research on the matter - and understand, I'm still working on this hypothesis - I've discovered that unlike agitated or unruly dogs, you can't just give your daughter a treat to shut her up...it seems babies require a bit more subtlety and patience with their care.

It was at about 2:38 AM a few nights ago, while sweet little Paisley Grace screamed baby curse words at me, when the futility of my child care philosophy exploded in a fury of tears, screaming and poop.

Previously, the basis of my baby care understanding was:

1. If baby is crying, then baby must want a treat (aka 'boob')
Therefore, wake wife and give baby a treat.

2. If a treat doesn't work, then wrap baby up like a burrito.

3. If burritofied baby continues to cry, then emit white noise from mouth in baby's ear .

4. If shushed, baby-burrito still cries then stuff pacifier in baby's mouth.

Unfortunately, I never considered what would happen if, after reaching item 4, baby continued to cry.

It seems this parenting thing is going to be slightly more complicated than previously thought. I wonder what Harvey Karp would do...?

And now for some more pictures (click on either to see whole set)






...and some boring home videos that only an in-law would love:

Family Nap

The Abdine power structure in a nutshell.

Introducing...

I’m happy to introduce you to the new member of our family; Baby “P,” AKA Paisley Grace Abdine.

She was born 6 pounds 8 ounces, 20.5 inches at 12:12pm on Monday, February 19.

Momma and baby are doing great. Both healthy and happy.

Daddy on the other hand? Oh heck, what can I complain about… all I had to do was tell her to push and hand her the cell phone.

(click on the pictures below to jump to the full collection.)

Labor And Text Messeging

I think Melissa would be a good subject for Cingular’s next ad campaign:

“The new Motorola V3i Razor is so easy to use, even a woman in labor can use it.”

My terminator of a wife was actually text messaging her friends while in the final stage of labor.

Alan: “Breath and two and three and four…”
Melissa: click clack click click [send]
Alan: “Ok, baby, here comes your next contraction… Breath and two and three…"

I guess the epidural worked.

Unauthorized Photography

After witnessing first hand the epidural needle in all its horrific glory, I decided it would be cool to record it for future demonstrative purposes… you know, when the inevitable cocktail-party conversation springs up describing, in detail, the process of jamming a 3 inch, 18 gauge spike into one's spine during childbirth.

Unfortunately, the anesthesiologist about to do the jamming didn’t share my enthusiasm and immediately vetoed the idea as soon as I pulled out the camera. Sheesh… So sensitive these doctor types.

Better Picture

I landed in some hot water after posting that last picture of Melissa, so here’s a better one taken a few days ago by our good friend Dore…

Momma-to-be

Here's momma-to-be just before the epidural. Such a trooper! Cool pillow eh? ;-)

Timing

Perfect timing “P.” Why did you pick that special hour, right before mom and dad retire for the evening to make yourself heard?

I mean really… MIDNIGHT?! Just as dad was walking up the stairs to grab some shuteye...mom barely asleep for an hour?

It’s 7:45 am and we’ve been at the hospital since 2. According to the nurses, things are progressing… visually reinforced every 5 minutes by the wince of displeasure on Melissa’s face.

She’s a rock star though… no meds…no verbal abuse. Just sugar-free jolly ranchers, ice chips and cinnamon-flavored lip gloss applications every 45 minutes.

ETA... Sometime Monday, Feb. 19th?

It's 1:10AM Monday morning and it appears Melissa's labor has begun. contractions 15 minutes apart, about 45 seconds in duration, the last one earning a wince of pain. Water has broke? appears to be a trickle and she insists she hasn't peed herself! Looks like this will be our first (of many) sleepless nights.

Will try to continue posting when possible...

I hope the hospital vending machine sells redbull.

T-Plus 7...8...9...10

Yo P! Why you playin' us like that?

Please come soon baby girl. Your mom's nesting instincts have accelerated into overdrive and she's run out of things to primp...

She's grasping at straws. Just today, she reorganized our medicine drawer... i'm worried my desk is next. How can I possibly get any work done if all my paperwork is methodically categorized??

What's it going to take to convince you to come out? Primrose capsules? Castor Oil? Eggplant parmigiana?

Everyone Has A Theory

...about when the baby will be born...or what the "P" stand for (no its not "Penelope!"). But so far, y'all have been wrong ('cept Summer L...good guess!).

Despite everyone's assurance that "Baby P" will be here by the weekend, as of Saturday morning, we are still on red alert, though I think I'll lower it to code "yellow" as soon as I get approval from Homeland Security.

So "P," are you going to ruin my superbowl plans...?

T-Minus 10..9..8..7..

It appears that "Baby P" might make her grand entry a bit sooner than expected...like imminently. The official due date is February 20th - which we were hoping would be an early estimate. But as per the most recent OB/GYN visit on Monday (2cm dilated, 70% effaced), our Superbowl and Valentines Day plans may have to be adjusted just a bit.

And Melissa thought she would be teaching till February 16th! HA!

So now we are on "red alert." Which means I have to:

1. install the car seat
2. test the car seat
   
3. unpack and setup strollers
4. pack hospital bags
5. purchase video camera and learn proper operation
6. research and sign up for "cord blood banking"
7. coordinate dog care while we are gone
8. cram about a weeks worth of work into the next two days
   
9. control anxiety and stress so I can be the "level-headed one"
   
10. Sleep?

Before Monday's doctor visit, i assumed that 3 weeks would be ample time for me to satisfy all our pre-baby responsibilities but now it appears item 10 on the list is no longer an option.

So stay tuned for more info...

My intention is to blog as much as I can during the pre/intra/and post labor experience - I'll even post some pictures and maybe some video of "P" as well so this should be the first and best place to come to stay up to date.

Paparazzi

Thanks to Summer L. for tipping us off to the paparazzi hiding in our bushes. No respect for ones privacy... its sickening really.

Inequity

I’m well aware of the inequity of the situation.

Melissa is hard at work, 24 hours a day, creating new life

…constantly adjusting her schedule and social calendar to ensure the safety and health of baby Abdine.

…stoically denying her sushi, medium-rare Filet Mignon and Margarita cravings because someone, somewhere wrote in some publication that those were bad things for pregnant women to consume.

And me? It’s my job to remind her of her breathing patterns during labor!

Yikes, I better find more stuff to do.

Like…blog some new "4D" Ultrasound pics that have been sitting idol in my camera since mid-December?... (man, i'm such the slacker!)