I’ve been told that people check this website solely to see pictures of some baby. So for all those people, here you go.

Stacie’s good friend Shannon came to visit from Georgia!

Have I mentioned that an infant can be tiring business?

Stacie and Lydia went to work to show off the babies to all the other teachers. Apparently Luke did not appreciate this.

Every now and then we get a shot of him smiling. They’re really infrequent right now, so whenever we see one it’s like we’ve struck gold. Note to self, never take cute smiling son for granted.

Here are four generations all lined up. Having a great grandpa around is very special.

There aren’t very many pictures of me, so here’s one. Yay me.

And I had to put this one up, because dude Paul, you’re a natural.

I feel like I should get a Flickr account or something, but I know you’d all be too lazy to go look at them. And this way I can add some commentary. Look for videos sometime this century. Only two months of work left. Woot!

Tonight Stacie and I went out on a date for the first time since Luke was born. We called up a set of grandparents, requested their services, and off we went! Woodranch BBQ in Cerritos is one of our favorite places for good meat, so we headed out there. It was fun being able to go out just the two of us. We both remarked about how life didn’t feel that different, like it still didn’t feel real that we have a child. Life is certainly different than it was before Luke, but it’s not 100% different, it’s only partly different. I’d say a baby is more like an upgrade to your current life.

I started putting baby videos on the computer today, so hopefully by tomorrow I’ll have some posted.

Luke Nathan

Born just after midnight on March 15th…about 4 hours ago from right now. He weighed 8 lbs 8 ounces, and was 21 inches long. But how he decided to enter the world was a wild ride.

Still a week from our due date, we went out to eat with Andrew and Sarah on Friday night. After we get home we decided to snuggle up on the couch and watch a movie, but 30 minutes into it we have a problem. Just after 11 pm Stacie starts to have some bleeding….a lot. After about 1 minute of that I know we’re headed to the hospital. We do the best we can to get her ready to go, but the whole time she’s still bleeding.

We make it to the emergency room and they admit her. The nurses get her setup and check her out. She isn’t dialated a whole lot, but the blood is disturbing. Water breaking should be clear, so this isn’t normal. The doctor comes in to check on things, and he says it’s hard to know what exactly is causing the bleeding, but it’s probably the placenta. He doesn’t think it’s ruptured, but more likely it’s coming detached, and delivering vaginally could be very problematic. So after a few tears we’re off to have a c-section. One out of four women have one, and while it’s not typically the way you imagine this moment, you have to do what’s best for the baby.

They prep her, and maybe one hour after we arrived at the hospital, we have a brand new baby boy. Right now he’s in the special care unit. The bleeding got into his lungs, so they’re working on clearing them up. It doesn’t sound too serious, but it’s something they’re keeping a close eye on. When I left they had done a CPAP which increases the pressure in the lungs to help clear them up. They’ll try this for a couple hours, and if it doesn’t provide the results they want, then they’ll have to intubate him and put a tube down his throat. Mom is also recovering from her cesarian. She’s tired and was going to try and get some sleep when I left. The worst part is she’s hardly seen the baby since they’re both recovering. For now some looks on the digital camera will have to suffice.

He’s a beautiful baby. His hair is blonde, he’s got big hands and feet, and I feel absolutely blessed. Both sets of grandparents and Andrew and Sarah came down until about 2 am and got to see Stacie and baby Luke. I’m going to try and get some sleep now and will head back tomorrow to see how my two are doing. Prayers for a speedy recovery would be most welcome. As soon as I have more information I will let you know.

This morning I played a game of online baseball on the PS3 and it lasted for 18 innings. I was losing to the Angels 3-0 in the 8th inning, but my Dodgers put up 3 runs to tie it. From there it stayed tied until the 18th inning. Brad Penny came in for relief and pitched almost an entire game. In the bottom of the 18th Jeff Kent came up and knocked one over the wall to win the game. Very satisfying feeling! You can check the box score here.

On the way home we were driving on the freeway, and traffic was moving really well. Then the guy in front of me started to brake and put on his turn signal. Then at the last minute he swerved to avoid some debris in our lane, leaving me ZERO time to get out of the way. If you see something in the road a long ways out, don’t swerve at the last minute. He could have stopped completely! But no, I got to hit some remnants of a bumper or something and get nice big scratches on the front of the new car. Ugh. Now I’ve got to take it in to the body shop for something small and pay my $250 deductible. Turd.

In better news, the baby’s room is moving along. Everything is painted and I put up new blinds. Our stroller is on the way from Target that we bought with gift cards from Grandpa. We still need to pick out baby furniture, but Stacie has seen some that she likes. She went yesterday with a friend and registered for a bunch of stuff at Babies R Us. You can visit our baby’s registry here!

This is a recurring short story that I can write in spurts. There is no real beginning or end, but will simply chronicle the mishaps of a pizza delivery man. It is most certainly inspired by my time as a pizza delivery truck driver, but as you will see, the similarities stop there.

    A couple of shady looking characters walked into Mancini’s Pizza in Santa Monica. The elderly lady, and what appeared to be her granddaughter, were obviously up to no good. They approached the counter. The owner, Mr. Biagio Mancini, waitied warily behind the register. He’d seen their kind before, and at the tender age of 74, he was suspicious of everyone.
    “Excuse me sir,” the old woman asked in a frail voice, “But could you change our dollar for quarters?”
    At least five times a day this happened. The parking outside, save for two spots reserved for Mancini’s Pizza, were all metered. People like these two sorry beggars were the bane of Biagio Mancini’s existence.
    “What? I’m so so sorry. You think this is a bank, no? Down the street, you go the bank.” Mr. Mancini’s aged voice had practiced this line countless times.
    “Oh, no sir, we just needed change for the meter and wondered-”
    “Yes, yes, you and everybody else. No change! You go now!”
    “But just four quarters sir…”
    Mancini’s Italian accent grew thicker with his anger. In a whisper the woman could barely hear he said “Get out of my store.”
    “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
    Mancini reached for the long metal pole used to reach deep into the pizza oven. Using both hands he held the pole like a warrior headed to battle.
    In a slightly louder voice he said again, “Get out of my store.”
    The woman looked downright confused and began to back away from the crazed grey haired man.
    “Get out of my store,” Mancini said, now slightly louder than the average speaking voice.
    “What a sad old man-”
    “Get out of my store!” he said, now at yelling volume. He muttered Italian curse words of the foulest nature under his breathe.
    The old lady and her granddaughter hastened their pace and left the store without quarters.

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“Tommy, it’s time to set the table!” Mom worked diligently over the stove cooking a familiar meal.

Tommy was four years old and had enough energy to blown down a house. Even when he was learning to walk his mother had commented that he went straight from crawling to running. He was always in motion, and channeling that energy was always a challenge. This meant that the rest of the family was usually involved in a Tommy activity like coloring, riding scooters, or hide and seek. Tommy was certainly a handful.
He was sort of an odd boy, and definitely not a kid you’d see in a Pampers commercial looking perfect and cute. That’s not to say he was a bad kid by any means, he was “unique.” He wore big glasses with a prescription that rivaled Grandma and Grandpa. The lenses made his eyes almost twice their normal size, which looked very out of proportion for his head. His hair was straight and blond, but he had a defiant cowlick that liked to stick up in the front. His hands were always dirty, and if Mom didn’t pay attention, sometimes he had the dreaded snot and dirt face. When you’re four you don’t bother with tissues, and you don’t wash your hands unless someone forces you. Smeared boogers on the face are gross enough, but when you mix in dirt it really brings out the texture, sort of like a work of art. Tommy was a budding booger artist.

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My picture scanning continues. I’m nearing the end of the black and white photos (over 500 of them). They’re really poorly organized, so I’ll find a negative from the same "event" in several different places. Organizing and identifying people in the photos is another task completely.

I have another month of freedom left before I have to go back to work. So what am I doing to occupy my time? I’ve actually been bit by the nostalgia bug. I have a box of a couple thousand negatives that used to belong to my grandfather, some of which are over 50 years old. I’ve started scanning these old negatives in an effort to digitize the entire family history of photos. Equipped with compressed air, my lens cleaning brush, and a steady hand, I’ve started archiving.

In a related endeavor I’ve started researching my family tree. There is a wealth of information already on the web that I’m utilizing. Much of it is research that other people have done on common ancestors. While I wouldn’t be able to prove much of what I’ve found in a court of law (ie. no birth and death certificates, census data, etc.) I’m still fairly confident in the reliability of the data. It is a goal of mine to be as certain as possible of that information, but for now I’m willing to accept that which others have already decided on.

There a few highlights from my surface research. I’ve traced a few lines back to England and Germany, but no other foreign countries yet. One specific line dates my oldest American ancestors to the early 1600′s, making me somewhere around 14th generation. My Dad’s line isn’t as old, of which I’m the 5th generation. I have an ancestor that was in the Confederate Navy. One of my great-grandfather’s brothers shot a man, and my great-grandfather married the dead man’s wife (who became my great-grandmother).

Overall I am enjoying the greater appreciation I have for those that have come before me. Just a month ago I only knew who some of my great-grandparents were, let alone where they came from. This post wouldn’t be complete without a good example of the work I’ve been doing! This photo includes my grandmother, her brother, and two great-grandparents. Sadly I have no idea who the rest of the people are, and I probably never will. This would be in Iowa circa 1949 (I think).