Car Accident
My wife and I used to live in Southern Maryland, just below Washington D.C. The traffic doesn't get worse than it does there. I was almost killed dozens of times by crazy drivers, yet somehow we went six years without any sort of collision. I used to tell my wife if we lived there long enough we were eventually going to get killed in an accident. It seemed inevitable. In the short time we were there, I knew of a few people who were either seriously hurt in accident or who had died. My wife, a teacher, had former students who had been hurt badly because of accidents.
So we come to New York to have a child and build a family, and of course, after having my daughter, it's here that I'm in my first ever car accident. It wasn't horribly serious. A very dumb driver without much for brains decided to drive in reverse in a parking lot without looking. She slammed into us, just as we started to back out of the car. The car doesn't look so good. It looks like I was in a much more serious accident, but the three of us are all fine.
I had a screaming baby in the car, while I yell at this woman for being too stupid to look where she's going. Then we exchange insurance. And the entire time, my Baby J. is crying in the back seat, and I have a terrible case of nerves. I know everything is ok, but it so easily could have been worse. I'm thinking the whole time how badly I'd like to smack people in the face because they're so apathetic these days. The woman admits it's her fault, but she isn't upset. She's the picture of calm. She doesn't get it. She insists she has kids too so she knows. But she doesn't. People stopped caring. You can tell. If she cared, she would look when she's driving. If she cared she would realize that her huge, bulky SUV that makes her feel so safe is a huge weapon.
It makes me never want to take Baby J. out again. I wish everyone drove around in tin cans on wheels, because they'd be better drivers then. People think they're so safe in their huge cars and trucks that they never consider other drivers anymore. This woman was all of 5' 2" driving in an SUV twice the size of my car, who probably could barely see over the dashboard. I doubt she ever looks. I bet she just assumes the odds are in her favor. She's driving a tank afterall, what's the worst that could happen? But people in these huge SUVs need to realize that someone in a car, like myself, who is hit by one of them has double the chance of dying than if I were hit by someone in another car. If these people were running around with loaded guns, would they be careful enough not to aim that at other people? Would they know enough to look where they were going and who they were pointing at? Probably. But people never give their two tonne tanks the same consideration when they're driving.
It makes me so angry. You never know who's in that other car. You don't know who is out there, who you might hit. Have people stopped caring about the other drivers?
D.
New Year’s Resolutions
My big resolution this year is to get uber-healthy. It's not like I'm a really unhealthy guy or anything, but I just don't want to let myself go. It's too easy now that I'm a parent to feel too tired to eat right and just order a pizza, or too tired to work out and just watch TV. But I really want to be around as long as possible for my daughter, and not just for her sake, but I really get terrified at the idea of ever being away from her, it won't matter if I'm 75 and she's 48 (or whatever the math is). It won't ever make me feel better no matter how old I am to think of a planet where I'm not around to protect her.
So that's my big resolution, get healthy, lose any of the fat around my mid-section, eat right, work out, live as long as humanly possible.
D.
Ultrasound of My Baby Girl
My daughter is turning 1 years old in a few weeks, and I'm looking back at all of the videos of her, and I found this video of her ultrasound taken about four months before she was born. It's amazing to look back now and think of how we couldn't wait until we got to see her. It was all we could talk about. And even though she's here now and been here almost a year, we still can't really believe it.
The Dreaded Molars
Ug...I knew this time would eventually arrive. I kept hoping it would come later. But it's come, now, Baby J.'s molars are on their way.
My poor daughter. She's miserable. Tired and cranky all the time. She has big bags under her eyes. I'm sure she isn't getting very good sleep. It was one thing when sharp, pointy teeth were poking through. It's pretty easy for those teeth to make their way to the surface. But molars?
I remember when my wisdom teeth came in. It was awful, and I was 16 years old. I was well equipped to deal with the pain of tooth eruption, but my little one, not even a year yet, she probably has no clue why her mouth feels like it's filled with hot pokers, or why every time she chews on something it's like biting into broken glass. She isn't sleeping well. She's tossing and turning all the time. After waking from a nap, she looks more tired than when she was originally put down. And it isn't long before she needs to go back to sleep.
I hope molars don't take too long to surface once they start. A couple days maybe? A week? If it's much longer than that, I think the poor girl will have a nervous breakdown.
D.
A Freezing House, No Sleep, I Officially Hate Tuesdays!
I love winter.
I woke up at 5am this morning in a 49 degree house. For whatever reason, the thermostat chose the coldest night we've had yet to shut off and refuse to turn the heat on. After tinkering with the thermostat for a couple minutes, the heat miraculously started up. I checked on Baby J., who had burrowed under her blanket so that she was completely covered from head to toe. Her room was freezing of course. It's already the coldest room in the house, even on days when the heat is blasting, and with it having been off for so long, I can only imagine how cold her room had gotten. I took her out of her crib, even though she was sleeping, and I let her sleep on me for awhile.
We kept each other warm for the next couple hours while the furnace did its job. I didn't get any sleep really, since Baby J. doesn't sleep soundly. She sleeps like she's continually being stuck with a cattle prod. Every 30 seconds or so, her head lurches up and she slams it into my face, and she wriggles around, changing from side to side, sticking her feet into my stomach and kicking, sticking her hands in my face, snoring, murmuring, and so on, until I just give up on the idea of sleep and I just lie there and look at her.
So I'm thoroughly exhausted on this Tuesday morning. Unfortunately, come Baby J.'s naptime, I'll still be working. Why don't I get a mid-day siesta? Shouldn't I be entitled?
D.
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