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Unreal

Things are very surreal right now. It would be hard for me to believe, without a kid on the way, that I’m 31 years old, I graduated college NINE years ago, that Michelle’s tiny little brothers are graduating high school tomorrow, we’re now in the 21st century (and only 7 years away from hoverboards, flying cars, and Mr. Fusion, according to Back to the Future) and that somehow, in some dimension of spacetime, it’s already the end of May, 2008.

But that disbelieve multiplies exponentially when it means that we are only two weeks away from our due date.

Did you catch that? Yeah, I said TWO WEEKS.

Remember when I started this blog and it was six months out? What in the world happened? Futureson could make an appearance literally any day now. I can’t wait for him to get here, but I still have no idea what to do with him once we bring him home. I imagine we’ll walk through the door and he’ll be a quiet dream of a baby, and maybe we can order in and rent a movie, and then hit the hay early after a long day’s work.

But I figure there will be a lot of staring involved. We have other friends with babies right now, and I catch myself just wanting to do nothing else in their presence but stare. But staring is rude, isn’t it? I really can’t see doing much else. Yes, there will be the feeding and the burping and the consoling and the diaper-changing and the rocking and bouncing … but I’m thinking there will mostly be staring.

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