& the ultimate freak-down

20120629-101903.jpg

Felix Faulkner Davis
Born June 28, 2012 at 2:37 a.m.
7 lbs., 5 oz.
20.7 inches
Grey eyes
Light brown peach fuzz
Too pretty for you to handle

Holy shit, you guys. I’m an actual dad!

Bonus stats: When Karli was in labor with him, the Giants swept the Dodgers to tie for the division lead for the first time this season. On the day he was born, the Giants shut out the Reds to take the division lead. Squatch is a good luck charm.

More details to follow. I’m going to hang out with my son now.

My son! That’s still weird to me.

& the freak-down: fast forward

The Freak-Down

11 0 Days

We’re at the hospital so Karli can get a parasite removed. We should be back in a couple days. Play nice.

While I’m away, here are a few posts to get you primed for the big debut.

& i folk things up
& squatch’s inheritance
& thoughts on names
& a manifesto: gender war

& the freak-down: movie night

The Freak-Down

14 Days

One of the things Karli was worried about in terms of delivering this kid was that Squatch would decide to show up before Brave came out and she had a chance to see it. Or, worse, that Squatch would come in the middle of the movie.

I’m actually kind of glad Karli didn’t learn how to use a bow growing up. I might not be alive.

Fortunately for her, Squatch held off and we got to go see the movie a couple days ago. She’s been looking forward to this movie for a while. I think there are several reasons for that—she digs Pixar movies in a bigway; she’s always wanted to visit Scotland/England/Ireland; and the main character in it seemed like a pretty cool chick.

As it turns out, we both really liked the movie. Had this come out 20 years ago, Merida (the girl in the movie) would’ve been someone Karli looked up to—and it’s not just because they share the curly hair. I can see a lot of girls getting into Brave because it’s a girl who can not only hang with the boys, but can also kick them around a little bit. She’s not a stare-out-the-window-and-wish-for-independence type of Disney princess. She’s an independent Disney princess. That speaks volumes to kids who watch the movie—both boys and girls.

Watching the movie, a part of me seemed like elements of it came straight out of focus groups, and I don’t mean that as a knock (this time). I’ve seen a lot of discussion around the internet about the kinds of (poor) examples that Disney princesses leave for children. And I’ve seen as much discussion about the staggering number of dead and absent parents in Disney movies. Yet, with this movie, you see a character who acts as a strong, independent role model and who has two loving, engaged parents. They seemed to address two of their biggest criticisms in one big, curly-headed swoop.

Pixar also addressed something that appears to be not simply limited to Disney. Brave is mostly about a mother-daughter relationship, which I think a lot of books and movies see as the kiss of death. They think boys won’t want to see a movie or read a book where a girl is the main character.

The thing is that they’re not always wrong. They’ve come to that idea through a lot of experience. It comes with a big ol’ asterisk, though. Boys won’t go see a movie where the main character is a girl who whines and texts and plays catty little games all day. Too many of those sit around their classrooms to be interesting. But when you allow a female character to have adventures like you would a male character, I’m pretty sure boys couldn’t care less about the gender of the people in the movie. I sure as hell would’ve watched this movie as a kid.

This is one movie I don’t think I’ll mind showing Squatch. I think that whether Squatch is a girl or boy, Brave showcases a good female role model with values I want my kids to pick up. We’ll see if my opinion changes after the 53rd consecutive viewing of the movie.


It turns out that yesterday’s post was my 100th post. It went by without any fanfare because I didn’t even notice. Oops. Guess I’ll help myself to some more cake batter ice cream in celebration.

& the freak-down: wiped

The Freak-Down

15 Days

Man, I’m wiped.

Before I get going:
*DISCLAIMER*—I’m fully aware that Karli’s the pregnant one, and as such mocks my silly “tiredness.” But this isn’t her blog; it’s mine, so keep it down, all right?

People have told me how long and boring and excruciating these last few weeks before the baby gets here can be. I was prepared for that and have already made fun of myself for it. Nobody mentioned how damn exhausting they are, too. Well, people have talked about how tiring it is for the mom-to-be, which is no surprise. But nobody mentions how the expectant dad is tired, too. Till now that is.

For starters, I haven’t slept well recently. It takes forever to get to sleep with a thousand things racing through my head. Once I get there, I’m startled awake with every rustling from Karli’s side of the bed. Hell, if she makes a noise, I’m practically jumping up to grab the hospital bag. It makes for pretty long and fitful nights.

Once I’m up, I’m up. And working. At the risk of tooting my own horn, I’m doing a whole lot of work around the house to make sure we’re ready for when Squatch pops out. I fetch water, make meals, fix the car*, put baby things together, do laundry, wash dishes, clean the house, and pretty much anything else around here that requires movement of the non-pregnant variety.** Not that I’m complaining. It’s kind of my job. But it’s tiring.

*Sort of.
**Enter fanfare.

Let this be a lesson for you dads-to-be. Get ready to be anxious and impatient and tired during the last few weeks before your kid is born. If you’re doing it right, that is. Unless I’m totally doing this wrong, in which case I’m going to have to have a little talk with Karli.

Now it’s time for me to head out with Karli for our evening walk because, y’know, I need to wear myself out. It’s only for another couple weeks. Then Squatch will be here and—

Aw, crap.

& the freak down: out damn squatch

The Freak-Down

17 Days

Normally, I’m the patient one in our family. We’re talking light years beyond Karli’s patience level.

Then it comes down to the home stretch before Squatch is born, and all that is gone. I’m officially the least patient person in the world. In fact, in order to give myself something to do that would take my mind off the whole baby-cookin timeline, I decided to try something new. Here’s a glimpse into a recent ritual that has popped up in our house.

Now I think I’ll go do the dishes. Again. For the sixth time in the last two-and-a-half days.

& the freak-down: semi-surrender

The Freak-Down

18 Days

I’ll admit it. I caved to peer pressure.

The tipping point was Dorkdaddy’s post yesterday. More specifically, his kid’s sure-to-be-badass Optimus Prime costume that he’s apparently only posting about on Facebook and which I have to be logged in to see. I don’t think I can miss that.

Thing is, Facebook has changed since I dumped her. Changed like she went onto one of those ultra-extreme plastic surgery reality shows. Now she’s got parts I don’t even know how to use. As a result, my page looks pretty sparse for the time being:

That bunny’s getting all kinds of stand-in work.

Yep, I just made a page for the blog. Didn’t go whole hog and reactivate my personal account. That’s a can of worms I just don’t want to go diving into. I’m sure I’ll make it look all purty at some point, but right now I just got too much going on to try fancying it up. I might try to do a little bloggy makeover after Squatch gets here and include it in that, but for now it’ll have to be kind of boring.

The sad thing is that, before I became a teacher, this was part of what I did for my job. Yeah, part of my job was to be one of those “social media experts.” I’m not going to lie—I didn’t care for that part of my job. I never really cared for Facebook. And now I’m paying the consequences for ditching. I look like your grandmother trying to “do the Facebook.”

You can still go like it because, as of this writing, nobody does and that’s just pathetic. I’ll start posting stuff there that’s not here just to make it worth your while. Lesson learned from the Dorkdaddy.