Killing time

Sweet! I figured out how to put in a title. I'm growing.

So I subscribe to Time magazine. I do so mostly to sound well read and relevant when I say, "So I was reading Time this week and....." The fact is I usually only read the sections that highlight jokes from last week's late night shows as well as the celebrity section in the back. However, this week (actually last week, I have been a little late in writing - sorry) the magazine took a look at "America at 300,000,000".

It talked about how we vote, what we buy (we bought 536,000 Domino's pizzas last year! That's almost 4.3 million slices - for only $5.99 on Tuesdays!), what we earn (it takes Howard Stern 24 seconds to earn $1000 and a janitor 1o3 hours to do the same - something is wrong with the world) among several other areas.

There was one section that I found most interesting. It has to do with how we spend our time. Now this topic has always struck a chord with me because somewhere along the line, I became very aware of the concept of time and how precious it is, how quickly it seems to go by and how much of it I waste.

Here are some stats that they give (and I am using round average numbers to give you a general idea - they broke up the groups into male/female, married/single, people who had time to do this stupid survey/those that actually had lives), we spend approximately 9.5 hours every day sleeping and doing "personal care" (showering, brushing teeth, etc.). We spend about 8 hours a day at work. We spend about 3 hours a day watching TV. We spend about 25 minutes a day reading.

I did a lesson at youth group last year about this same topic. In doing research, I found that the average life expectancy is 72 years. So if you take the numbers from above and determine what percentage of a 24 hour period that consume and transpose them over the course of a lifetime, you come up with some incredible numbers. I know I may sound smart using words like "transpose" but you can figure this stuff out too. (watch t.v. for 3 hours - 3 hours out of 24 - that's, um - quick typing on the calculator, 12.5%) It's simple math. Take it from a guy who was told to never take math again after 11th grade by his math teacher - oh and I never did. Take THAT Mr. Musselman! Sorry, repressed anger is buried again - onto the incredible numbers:

We will spend 28.7 years sleeping and brushing our teeth (sweet, I just woke up and my breath is fresh!)
We will spend just under 24 years working - I know that you don't work your whole life but think of it this way - if you work from age 20 to 65 - 45 years - at that same percentage, you will spend just about 15 full years at work.
We will spend 9 years watching T.V. Of course 7.5 of those years we will be watching stupid commercials that feature a talking British lizard. Freaking Geico....
We will spend just about one year reading.

For me, those numbers are, well, incredible. Obviously, we need to sleep but if we average 8 hours of sleep a day over a lifetime - that's a third of our lives! That means that I slept through more than a full year of college (hopefully, it was my sophomore year - yikes - wish I had that one back). Based on Time's breakdown, we spend about the same amount of time doing sports/recreation/exercise as well as "thinking/relaxing" as we do reading. That would mean that we will spend THREE TIMES as much time watching T.V. as we will playing sports, reading or just stopping to think COMBINED.

People, God put us on this Earth to enjoy Him and his creation. We are here to interact with each other. As you can see, most our lives are not designed to do that. I'm not saying quit your job, become an insomniac and throw out your T.V. (though that plan worked out for Thomas Edison.....) but I just challenge all of you to be intentional about each day. I know I sound like an afterschool special but seriously - watch one less T.V. show and find something else to do with that hour. Read the paper. Hit some golf balls. Start a blog!

Well, that's all I have for now. Sorry if I came across preachy, this article just really hit me. If you want to read the article, it is from the October 30th issue. Or if you click on the title of the blog, it will take you to the article online.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see what's on T.V.

Today was a big day. We had been looking forward to (and nervous about ) this day for quite some time. Today was our 20 week ultrasound. This was the big one where they took measurements, took pictures and (if desired) told you what the gender of the baby was. Missy and I wanted to find out (much to the disappointment of many) what the gender would be. Our reasons were completely selfish. We wanted to make our job of picking a name 50% easier. We also wanted to know how to shop and register. And most importantly, I wanted to prepare myself to see which sport I would become a fan of - baseball or softball.

Baseball, it is.

The tech, Missy and I all saw the "distinguishing feature" at the same time. A boy. Seeing our child again for the first time since he was just a lima bean with a strobe light in the middle to now being a human/alien mix was such an amazing moment. The coolest part (and what gave me the most pride) was seeing the child move. And man does this kid move. He was waving his arms and legs around constantly.

Our tech was trying to do her job by taking pictures and measurements. However, our son - and this is where the daddy pride came in - refused to cooperate. Way to stick it to the man, son. The tech, at first, was very patient saying "He sure is having a good time in there!" She later called him "a riot". Then, after stretching her neck (and probably her patience) said that he was "making me earn my money". That's my boy!

An insider piece of information that I never knew until today was that this magical moment occurs during a very torturous time for the mother. To see the baby clearly, Missy had to shotgun a gallon of water an hour before the appointment. Now making a pregant woman not pee is dangerous enough by itself - almost as treacherous as standing in between her and an all you can eat Chinese buffet - but making her down a big thing of water, prohibiting her from peeing AND pressing this thing (covered in warm gel) against her bladder for an hour should be a capital offense. So all the while we were witnessing this beautiful display, Missy was giving me the death grip because she was about to explode like Mt. Saint Helens.

One last thing that was revealed to me today was the early feeling of what it will be like to be a parent. While the tech was taking measurements and pictures (during one of the rare moments that our boy was not getting down like James Brown), I had these fears like, "that big black spot - is that normal?" "why is she spending so much time looking at the heart?" "Is something wrong?" "Does he have all of his fingers and toes?" I now understand why my parents (or at least my mom) couldn't sleep until I got home at night. It makes sense why I would have to call when I arrived back at college after driving all day. I can understand. I see this beautiful creation that God has given us and even though he looks a little like Gollum from Lord of the Rings, I have fallen deeply in love with him. Our son.

Oh and now that we know - NO, we are not telling names. Though after seeing him move today, we may just call him "Elvis".

Well, it has once again been a while. I thought I would let you all in on one of my better conspiracies and cover ups in recent memory. You see this picture over here was taken this past weekend on Missy's birthday in Chicago. The thing is, Missy was under the impression that we were going to Cape May, NJ to celebrate her final birthday in her 20's AND as a......not.......mother. Um, you get the idea, I hope. That's right, I came up with a grand scheme full of manipulation, lies and deception. This picture is the result.

For my birthday back in March, Missy surprised me by getting our wonderful friends Val and Steve to surprise me with a trip to Maryland for the weekend. Feeling a strong need to get my revenge, I conjoured up a plan to give Missy what she wants more than anything at every birthday and Christmas - her family.

The plan was simple - allow Missy to believe that we were going to go away for the weekend (so she would pack a bag) and that we were heading to Philly for a nice dinner (so we could drive towards the airport without suspicion). The only real complication came when Missy told me what she really wanted to do for her birthday - play cash bingo - WHAT? I couldn't understand her desire to do this. I mean she has all of her teeth, she doesn't feather her hair, she rarely wears outfits made up of flannel shirts, spandex pants and L.A. Gear shoes and has only been arrested on the show "Cops" once. But that's what she wanted to do so I had to create a grand cover up.

I sent out a mass email to our friends letting them in on the plan. I told them that I was going to invite them to play cash bingo but that it was all a cover. Their only job was to reply and express excitement about joining us in an event that would never take place. To their credit, they executed their responsibility to perfection - poor Missy never had a chance.

I laid out the "plan" to Missy and she was very excited. I picked out a nice restaurant in Philly for dinner on Friday night called the Capital Grille (6:45 reservations - we can't be late!), a beautiful hotel on the water for Friday night ($300 a night - no problem!) and a great Bed & Breakfast in Cape May for Saturday night.

Finally, a few exits before we would have gotten off to go to the restaurant, I veered off and told Missy to open the glove box. Inside were American Airlines frequent flier cards to be used on our trip to........ I didn't tell her where we were going until we were eating dinner.......not steak at The Capital Grille but over Sbarro's pizza at that airport. She cried. :)

I want to thank all of my partners in crime, specifically the two main accomplices, Greg (missy's brother) and Katy (greg's wife) who very slyly sent a group of pictures of their kids last week to increase Missy's desire to see them and who emailed Missy telling her that they may not be able to call on her birthday and apologizing because her gift would be late. Beautiful.

My plan of deceit and lies worked to perfection. Missy had a blast.

Well, that's the latest. Hopefully, I will be able to update soon with a little news about our little one.

Thanks for reading.

No one will ever accuse me of writing too often on this thing.

So, about 2 1/2 months ago, I found out that I was going to be a dad. Missy and I had an idea that she might be PG but we hadn't officially taken the test. We had been "trying" for a couple of months - sidebar - why don't more people snicker when you mention that you are trying. Whenever you hear the word "sex", you giggle like a little junior high kid. "Trying" is just admitting that you are doing more of that. Maybe people are just more mature than me. Sorry mom if you are reading this.

Anyway, just before we took the test, I had one of my patent I'm-going-to-throw-up moments. I mean, me, a dad. My only reference to a dad was (and is) my dad. And I always thought my parents were pros right from the start. I mean I turned out ok (other than that shooting spree in '97 but the appeal is still in the courts so I haven't been convicted yet....) so they must have been experts. But me. I mean, I still play video games and crack up when someone farts. I couldn't be a dad. But at this point, it was too late. The die had been cast, so to speak.

So, anyway, Missy took the test. I didn't have my glasses on and so she was just kind of blur from where I was. However, despite my blindness, I could see her excited smile and head nodding. From that moment, I felt a joy that I cannot explain. Me a dad. That is just ridiculous. That is proof that God has a sense of humor. I know that He is going to look down and die laughing as I try and change a diaper.

Since we found out the news and more specifically when people started to find out, I have said "thank you" more often than I can remember. I would not have predicted this but the question that almost always immediately follows the "congratulations" is "are you going to find out the sex of the baby?" I don't know why people feel an obligation to ask that. I guess because that is the next step after finding out you are pregnant. And usually the answer to that question is followed by a personal story that makes the answer wrong. For example, I can't remember how many times I have had this scenario:

Person A: So are you going to find out what the sex of the baby is?
Me: Yes, I think we are going to find out.
Person A: Oh, Bill and I decided to wait. We wanted to be surprised. That was the best decision we ever made!
Me: Yes, well, my wife and I decided we would like to find out so we can pick a name and register and.....
Person A: Well, my sister was told that she was going to boy and she had three girls!
Me: That's great, I'm going to go through myself through a plate glass window now. Thank you.

Well, maybe there was a little exaggeration in there but you get the idea.

The other response that I have gotten since finding out that we are expecting is the tagline "Oh Ryan, you'll find out all about that soon enough!" That line is usually preceded by something terrible. Another example:

Person B: "Last night, my son set fire to our dog and then threw up into the back our new TV! Oh Ryan, you'll find out all about that soon enough!"
Me: (nervous smile as a I once again excuse myself to the bathroom)

So despite all of this, we are still super excited about having a child. Just knowing that another human being will come into this earth and experience its first everything - breath, word, step, projectile vomit into electronic equipment and I will be there to experience it with them. That is a truly incredible and humbling thought.

So, world, you have been warned. Another sarcastic smart alec who is way too devoted to the Philadelphia Eagles will join this world in March of 2006. I can't wait.