Every Picture Tells A Story (Don't It?)

We had another sonogram today. I'll just let the pictures do the talking....

Kick

I felt the Bean kick last night. He has been dancing the Watusi on Margaret's internal organs for the last month and a half, but up until last night I couldn't feel the kicks outside of her belly. Occasionally she would have me put my hand on her stomach when he seemed to be kicking particularly hard, but I couldn't detect anything. Then last night I once again placed my hand just below her belly button, and I felt the slightest little bump as he kicked. Considering the Bean is still pretty small (but growing every day), it was a surprisingly strong and clear boot. Our friend Jennifer sent a care package full books, CDs and Baby Einstein videos. It was an extremely generous gesture, and we will make sure to use the items to begin what we hope will be a lifelong love of books and music.
We went to see Brokeback Mountain last weekend. The film has been getting a lot of buzz due to its subject matter, but fortunately it is also now a serious Oscar contender after winning a couple of Golden Globes. I personally thought it was great. Ang Lee is a film director that I would follow anywhere. I have never seen a bad movie by Lee, and yes, I am including Hulk in that claim. That flick might have tanked at the box ofice, but I loved it. Of course his masterpiece is Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, which should have won the Best Picture Oscar the year it was in the running.
Anyway, back to Brokeback. We were standing in line for tickets, and there was a father and his teenage son in front of us. They were trying to decide what to see while waiting in line, something I could never understand. Why head to the theater not knowing what you want to see? When I go out to the movis, I usually know exactly I'm going to see and why. So anyway, the father and son are discussing the plots of various movies, and the father says, "Brokeback Mountain, what's that about?" The son shrugged, and so the father turned to Margaret and askd, "Do you know what Brokeback Mountain is about?" Margaret just looked at me expectantly. Apparently I was going to be answering the question. The father was now looking at me, and so I decided not to sugarcoat it. "Gay cowboys," I replied. The father didn't say a word to us after that.
To be fair that's a really basic and almost unfair synopsis of the film. It's actually a complex story of a relationship between two men who happen to reside in a rural part of the country. Come to think of it, maybe gay cowboys is a pretty spot on description. Seriously though, it was a really good film, and if there is any justice Lee will be up onstage on Oscar night for Best Director and Best Picture.

"Yep, that's a peepee if I ever saw one!"

Okay, so we went to the doctor yesterday for a regular checkup. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a chance for the doc to check out the progress. We got to the doctor's office at about 4:45pm, and found it packed to the gills with patients. It seems that Thursday evenings are reserved for folks who can't make it during the day. Our appointment was for 4:45pm, but it was about 5:30pm before we were seen. Hey, no problem - we were in no hurry.
We had another ultrasound scheduled for January 30th at MUSC, and at that appointment we were hoping that the Bean would be a little less bashful than the first view we had of him.
...
What's that? Oh, I see your eagle eye has noticed the fact that in that last sentence I referred to the Bean in a single gender manner, rather than the now familiar "he/she, his/hers" manner. So how are we now so sure about the sex of the Bean? Well, after the doctor had finished checking Margaret out, she said to us, "Since you guys had to wait so long this evening, why don't we try to see if we can determine if it's a boy or a girl." Naturally we were game, and after a bit of coaxing to get the Bean out of his shell, the doctor uttered those magic words, "Yep, that's a peepee if ever I saw one!" This woman went to medical school, so the delivery of the revelation struck me as a bit amusing, but I wanted to pick the little lady up and hug her. I ultimately resisted that urge, since she would probably be delivering the Bean.
Margaret and I looked at each other and just beamed. I think the news surprised us, more because we weren't expecting to get said news until January 30. It had nothing to do with being disappointed with the result of the ultrasound. Nothing could be further from the truth. We are both thrilled. But I guess somehow we both got it in our heads that it would be a girl. Margaret has said more than once in the past that I seem like the potential father of a girl. Hey, it's not as if we can't have another later, or adopt.
So we're having a boy. Wow. The Bean is a He-Bean. ...WOW... Once again I am humbled by something far smaller than me in stature, yet unbelievably immense in terms of the people I care about on this Earth. I considered running home and making a blog entry, but I chose to wait, to let the news sink in. Of course I immediately called family and told them, and everyone was of course thrilled.
So now here I am, 24 hours after finding out we're having a boy, and I am still giddy. Don't get me wrong, it would have been the same if it was a girl. I'm not one of those guys who must sire a male offspring to carry on the family name...but since it seems just that very thing has happened, I have to say it feels good.
For now we will continue to refer to our son as the Bean. Yes, we have names chosen for both a boy and a girl, but we are choosing to keep the name under wraps unil the birth. I will say that had it been a girl, we would have named her Claire Veronika. Claire after Margaret's late Great Aunt Claire, a unique woman if ever there was one, and Veronika because we both have always liked that name. The different spelling of Veronika (different here in the US, at least. Most American's spell it with a "c" rather than a "k") is in honor of my dear friend Veronika, who lives in Germany. She and I, along with our mutual firend Anna, used to go to movies and concerts together when I was stationed in Karlsruhe, Germany while in the army. As for the Bean's chosen name, well, you'll just have to wait and see.
Okay, so that is that. If you don't mind indulging me in a bit of parental bravado, let me just say, "IT'S A BOY! IT'S A BOY! IIIITTT'S A BOOOOOOOY!!!!!! WOO-HOO!!!!!

Thank you, you can now return to whatever it was you were doing.

I could be really evil and say that there was Metallica blasting from those headphones...

...but of course we all know that's not the case. While I plan to make the Bean a lover of all things musical, for now it's Mozart and some of the mellower offerings from John, Paul, George and Ringo. We bought some headphones and have been playing music for the Bean on most nights. According to Margaret, the Bean is kicking up a storm inside her belly. He/she is apparently not quite big or strong enough for me to feel the kicks outside when I place my hand on Margaret's stomach, but we did buy a baby microphone thingy. So far we haven't heard the heartbeat (according to the instructions that isn't unusual this early in the game), but we can hear a distinct bass drum-like sound when the Bean kicks close to the microphone.
I find myself wondering what the Bean will be into as it develops interests. Will it like sports, or will it be a bookworm like his/her parents? Will it want to go out and see the world or be a homebody? What sort of foods will he/she like? There are any number of interests and pursuits, and we will of course support whatever they turn out to be.
The problems from a few weeks ago seems to have smoothed out. We visit the doctor every week, and Margaret seems to be doing quite well. She is really showing now, and although it sounds cliche (doesn't everyone say that a woman is at her most beautiful when she is aglow with pregnancy?), she really is gorgeous in her current state. We have an appointment for another sonogram on January 30th, and with any luck (not to mention a little cooperation from the Bean, who was very bashful during the first "photo session") we should find out whether we'll be expecting a little boy or a little girl. As I believe I have said before, I will be equally happy with either sex, and it will be great not to have to say "he/she" anymore. Best of all, we can start calling it by its name. Yeah, we've already chosen names for both sexes, but that will remain a secret for now. Hey, you gotta keep something to yourself to keep 'em coming back.
New Year's Eve was quiet, spent at a friend's house playing board games and talking. I managed to get another gig writing a concert review for No Depression, a music magazine I have read and respected for years. The editors were kind enough to take a chance with me last year, and this review, of the recent Chip Taylor and Carrie Rodriguez show here in town, will be my third assignment for the publication.
We had our friend Kristin down from Raleigh last weekend, which coincided with our 9th anniversary. The three of us, along with our niece, Noel, went to dinner at Fig, this great restaurant downtown. We spent way too much money, and had a meal to die for. Hey, might as well enjoy haute cuisine before life becomes one big trip to Chuck E. Cheese. I kid, I kid, but then again, I didn't notice the availability of highchairs at Fig.