Where is my mind?

While The Woman was pregnant she would often make reference to “pregnancy brain” whenever she had some sort of gaff. Apparantly women become forgetful with all of those hormones and baby parts plowing around their insides. I guess their minds are just a tad distracted (you try getting kicked in the stomach from… well… in your stomach and maintain your concentration at the same time). What hasn’t been explained is how her hormones invaded MY mind and turned me into a complete dufus.

Normally I’m rather rational and collected, but over the past few months I’ve inched closer and closer to a full-on raging moron. It was never more evident than mere days after our kitchen was completed (oh yeah, I still have to post about that, don’t I?). While transporting leftover Chinese food to the fridge I managed to flip a HUGE container of fried rice all over our beautiful new tile floor.

Alright, I may not be the most coordinated guy, but (while sober) I’ve never really dropped anything more than the occasional crumb on the floor. This can actually be frustrating for The Woman as it tends to shine a spotlight on the fact that she is guaranteed to spill something on herself whenever wearing new clothes (that’s also when she’s most likely to let out some obscenities that are sooooo much cuter coming from her). Regardless, not only was I the first person to spill food in the new kitchen, but I managed to COAT the floor with the greasy remains of a full dinner – badly enough that the wet/dry vac made an appearance.

And now that she is recovering from 9 months of construction in her uterus, my brain is still on some sort of extended paternity leave. Last night (or was it the freakin’ night before? Damned if I know) I managed to pour myself a glass of water right after filling up the Brita pitcher. for those of you unaware of just how one of their pitchers works, rest assured that is not the correct usage and resulted in giving our dresser a sponge bath.

Even more annoying is never knowing WHAT DAY OF THE WEEK IT IS! I’m serious. Sure, I took Friday off which made it feel like Saturday and Saturday felt like Sunday and Sunday felt like a new day of the week not yet invented that gave us a third day off, but WHY DOES TODAY FEEL LIKE TUESDAY? Practically every week for the last couple of months I’ve found myself planning work on Tuesday and thinking there was only 2 days left in the week or walking in on Thursday morning looking forward to the weekend starting at the end of the day. WHERE IS MY MIND?!?!

Then again, maybe some of my friends will pop on here and say, “Dude, you were never clear-headed or rational”. But then I’ll be forced to point out that they are used to me drinking and playing video games – all bets are off then…

You have no idea

My attempt to reclaim a social life has once again been thwarted by fatherhood. Alright, that’s a lie. It was thwarted by the state of New Jersey – specifically Hoboken. In case you haven’t noticed, football season is upon us. And for those of you with short-term memories, I’m a crazy-ass Eagles fan (I know, is there any other kind?).

Being of that persuasion up here in North Jersey is not exactly a fun experience – especially with the results of last year’s Super Bowl (which even forced me to root for the enemy). Thus we cling to each other in small groups, usually at whatever bar will take us. In Hoboken the place to be for Eagles fans on Sundays is Mulligan’s – who has kindly played host to us for the past two seasons. Unfortunately, no matter how much I looked forward to meeting up with a few friends I haven’t seen in months, the craptacular parking and traffic situation in Hoboken finally pushed my to the edge 20 FREAKIN’ MINUTES AFTER THE GAME WAS SUPPOSED TO START. I turned the car around and headed home. Hey, I’d rather spend the first game with my baby girl anyway. And apparently she’d rather spend it with me, too.

The newest Eagles fan

That photo isn’t even close to the biggest smile she had while “wearing” my jersey. I asked what jersey she wanted for herself and she seemed most interested in DeSean Jackson. I explained that it’s never a good idea to go with a rookie, because you never know if they really are going to be as good as promised even after a full game and we shouldn’t get our hopes up. That didn’t seem to phase her. Honestly, there’s just no reasoning with this kid…

Thanks to the magic of DVR I didn’t even miss any of the awesome opener (a total destruction of St. Louis 38-3) and got to spend most of it with my beautiful baby girl smiling at me from my lap. She actually seemed to thoroughly enjoy watching my reactions to the game – maybe even more than when I try to interact with her directly. Thank god, because she has no idea the kind of fandom she was born into. This is a fandom of bad luck and depression that somehow keeps us coming back for more. Now I’ve got another generation to force it upon – at last, the circle is complete!

A second generation of arrogant depression in the making

At least for her first real football action there was something to cheer about. Let’s see just how long that can last…