so (drum roll, please)

it’s a boy!

parker linden, born oct 21st at 5:57am, 6 lb. 11 oz, 20 1/2″

unfortunately, if you’re looking for online photos of him, it ain’t gonna happen, but i’d be more than happy to mail you photos galore, just send me an email.

so just a note on having a baby.

what the f—, dude!!!

why didn’t anyone tell me that this was going to be so unbelievably awful?  like, really?  not even a wink or a hint of irony in the “it’s not so bad”, “it’s pain you forget”, “it’s all worth it in the end”, and so on and so forth.

all i have to say to that, respectively is –

it is that bad.  it’s worse in fact.  and it doesn’t start to feel better for like a week.  and it hurts like no other sort of thing one could ever even begin to imagine in different ways throughout each and ever stage of the birth and the aftermath and there are many stages that are various and affect different areas in equally embarrassing and uncomfortable ways.

i wasn’t able to get the epidural, there wasn’t time, but i did get some of the pain medication and it wasn’t enough to make much difference, and i have to say to anyone considering a “natural” birth (a term i have some issue with to begin with) because of all this hippie bonding theory and pain equals appreciation b.s. – you’re retarded.  maybe that’s not a very popular or p.c. view, but f— that.  it’s awful and if you do it on purpose, then i guess you deserve what you get, but dude, if you’re sane and you think twice about it, take the meds, all you can, and make sure they know right off the bat, because it is possible to run out of time.

further, i have suspicions that there must be some darwinian secret pact that mothers make not to say just how horrible it’s going to be in order to perpetuate the species.  and it’s insane amazing what you learn about the birthing process after you go through it.  everyone who told you before don’t worry, is like, oh yeah, that’s right, i almost forgot that i couldn’t comfortably sit for a month after, that i could hardly walk 20 feet without wishing for death, that you’ll have less control over your body then your baby like your entire being is revolting against you for putting it through such a trauma.

i half expect that once i’m out and about again i’ll be abducted and when i come to i’ll be in a room with a bag over my head only to have it removed and find myself in a mason style altar room filled with candles and strollers and be inducted.  i’ll say what i have to to have my baby released safely, but let it be known now that if i ever say to you that it’s not that bad, i’m lying.  look for the wink closely, because i’m a terrible winker.  and if you ever have any questions, i’d be happy to answer them as descriptively as possible.

2.  i’m never going to f—ing forget.  it would be like forgetting what it was like to be hit in the face with a hammer.  honestly, if given the choice between the two today, i’d go with the hammer to the face.

and c. i’ll address to my son.  parker, you better be worth it.  you better put your poor senile mother into an amazing nursing home, one of those that creates the illusion of freedom with dances and parties and a cafeteria that looks like a oversized dining room and doesn’t smell like antiseptic.

and a note for communication:  if you want to see us and talk to us, we’re on skype.  if you go to you can download the program for free and even if you don’t have a mic or a camera, you can still see him.  we’re going to us it to star our “parker on-demand channel” once we return home.  just search for us under my name.