Brett & Megan

Alright, I know when enough prodding has taken place. SO MANY of you have been asking for an update on our pregnancy and while I’m eager to please I also have my narcissistic tendencies about blogging. I can’t bring myself to create a new post when the previous post hangs lonely without any comments. Yes, I’m so sad and lonely that I wait upon my internet friends to feed me with the tender love of comments. They’re like a sweet cupcake at the end of the day. Many of you demanded a post about my China trip and I graciously complied.  Yet there it sits below, commentless, incrementally getting swept towards the blogosphere dustpan. But since the tabloid hoards we call family want nothing more than to feed off the juicy information of our lives with no ambition to return the attention, here you go. (For those of you who have never endured my sense of humor – namely Megan’s friends – I apologize, this is it).

Megan was due to deliver on Labor Day – hah, Labor Day – but the day came and went with nary a contraction. The most she ever felt was a slight twinge in her hip when she tried hefting a 40lb. lawn chair at Lowe’s. A friend called that day and asked if we were in the hospital parking lot driving doughnuts. “Are you kidding?” I replied. “We’re not going to let the looming possibility of a baby delivery in the hardware store run our lives.  We’re shopping patio furniture and eatin’ Chevy’s near-Mex tacos. It’s Labor Day!”

Being overdue has made us both anxious but I keep telling her any day she delivers is Labor Day (double hah!). We’ve got an appt. to induce on Friday should she not pop out by then. Every day before  I leave work I place sub plans on my desk should the little one decide tonight is her time. BTW – we still don’t have a name but we do have a list. I would say it’s top secret, but it’s already been cracked more than once. Based on the negative reactions of others, we’ve been forced to cross some names off. My hope for Lafawnda is dashed.

Being overdue has also allowed us to experiment upon the wealth of labor triggers people have offered up this past week. Yesterday I put my hand on the belly and gave her a good talking to as her father to quit hiding and face the world. Megan just hiked the steepest street in La Crescenta from bottom to top – a good 3/4 mile with about 720ft.of climbing. The woman’s a trooper. We have yet to try the most bizarre labor trigger:  supposedly some restaurant in Hollywood guarantees their eggplant parmesan will send a woman into labor within 24hrs or you can return and get refund of your bill. I’m thinking I’ll get the most expensive item on the menu, then even if it does work I’ll fix the hospital records to show it took 36hrs. If you have any other labor-inducing magic tricks, let us know. We’re willing.

Despite our efforts, no signs of labor yet. As I write this, Megan is upstairs bolting together the frame of a guest bed we just bought off Craigslist. We may not have pioneer blood but we’ve certainly got their mentality – we’re gonna work this baby out.

We will, of course, update all of our faithful bmharvey.com readers when in fact we metamorphose into parents. In the meantime, please feed my egotistical need for an internet audience and leave a comment. Under Obama’s new plan, every word you leave is tax-deductible.