First off, I want to thank everyone for the positive feedback you’ve been sending. I’m just a dude writing what’s on my mind and I’m glad that you’re enjoying it.1 For this post, I’m going to do something a little different. I took on the task of recording something every day to catalog the three months leading up to the birth of our son and then, for rest of the year.

He’s the size of a bongo drum right now. Neat. I had a little wave of worry come over me earlier this week.1 We’re about 32 weeks into this thing and of course, you think of all of the joy that comes from your first child, all of the accomplishments that you get to experience with your newly formed family. Learning how to walk, how to read or even hearing him speak Spanish, I can’t wait for all of this.

The switch flipped. Last Friday night I had a dream where I saw my son.1 In terms of dreams, it was pretty uneventful, no flying Cheetos or being chased by fire-breathing marbles. We were visiting my parent’s house and my mom was holding him. That’s pretty much it, nothing more. But the feeling I had when I woke up was one of peace and happiness. One of the only other times I had the same feeling was when I knew I wanted to marry Claudia.

I love to learn. As far back as I can remember, I’ve had an inquisitive mind. A specific recollection of me being inquisitive happened when I was around 7 years old. I used to have1 a battery powered CHiPs  motorcycle with a little Larry Wilcox  2 attached to it. It wasn’t small either. Officer Baker was easily 12” and the motorcycle itself was probably a foot and a half long.

As I said in my initial post, my wife is in her third trimester of our first child, so she’s very, very pregnant. We’re in the process of getting ready for my son’s arrival. It started with the theme for his room. I wanted it to be space with rocket ships, planets, stars and maybe a little NASA logo thrown in there. As is typical in married life, I had to compromise, and we went with stars.