An Open Letter to 21 Year old Braeden

Dear Braeden,

This morning, (this Sunday, weekend, no-work morning) you woke me up at 5:45 am. I stubbed my toe on your exer-saucer and nearly broke my neck when I stepped on your rattle. I then fed you breakfast which you promptly spit up all over my bare feet. I thought I could grab a quick nap in the late morning but you only slept for 20 minutes and I just had time to clean your bottles out.

When you woke up, you slobbered all over my face and left the largest drool string I've ever seen on my forehead. I then changed your diaper and you thought it was hilarious when you filled the new one with poo before we even left the changing table. You've managed to leave bodily functions, clothes and toys from one end of the house to the other even though you technically aren't even mobile yet.

I'm writing this because I want to remember today and say thanks. It's been the best day of my life just like every day before it for the past 6 months. Love you buddy...

-Daddy-

Some "Ups" are better than others...

So, The Dink as we so affectionately refer to Braeden around the house has learned a few tricks in his 5.5 short months of life. I like to call them his "Ups". Braeden has been standing "up" since he was about 3 months old. We will hold his arms and he'll stand "up" and then he'll actually take steps forward with a little help. He doesn't have the whole "Balance" thing down but how many of us honestly can say we've mastered balance? So we'll call "up" number 1 standing. It's pretty awe inspiring to see such a little man accomplishing such a monumental task.

So what cold be harder than standing "up" you might ask? Well surprisingly to me, sitting "up" is much harder. It requires muscles beyond just the legs, it requires balance, and it requires a thorough understanding of your center of balance, which is hard to find when your head makes up 40% of your total body weight. But The Dink has it down now. He can sit "up" on his own! So I now submit for you, the steps in mastering sitting. I can honestly say I've never been so proud of anything in my life! (By the way, if you're still wondering who he looks like, check out the 5th picture down. Very obviously Heather...)

Is that Monkey Bling?...

This is what happens when Mommy and Daddy both get to pick out a Halloween costume. By the way, his initials are BMC...

7 mL from failure...

It's been a very busy last few months in our house. Thank you all for the emails and gentle nudges for news about Mr. B. He's been doing great and Heather and I have been very fortunate that he very rarely complains about anything. We're extremely impressed that he can read a clock already. Every three hours on the dot he lets us know that it's time to eat. And he's great about following his schedule and sleeping through the night! (except when Grandma Binnie is around... hmmmm...) But enough about him, we all know this is a blog about my struggles as a new father right?

My sister once had an idiot boyfriend that assumed that since she was part Hispanic, she should be able to speak Spanish. In his mind there was a lonely thought floating around that it was somehow encoded in her DNA to understand the language. I always thought that it was a stupid idea to assume that your genetic makeup could have anything to do with what you know or learn. That is... until now.

Braeden's bottles are all measured in ounces. 7 am - 5 oz. of formula. 10 am 5 oz. of formula. 1 pm 5 oz. of formula. Etc... - I can go to the sink at any time and put the bottle under the faucet, turn on the water and hit 5 oz. with my eyes closed every time. Want me to stand on my head and do it, because I'm sure I can? Left handed, right handed, behind my back??- Bring it on.

Here's the problem. His bottle is in good ol' American ounces (let's hear it for arbitrarily making a decision on how to measure things huh?) But his bottle warmer requires 7 mL of water. What The...??!! - How did milliliters get into my house? It takes me a good 5 minutes to hit that stupid mark. I fill it t0 4, then re-fill it to 10, pour out a little and I'm back to 3, re-fill and I'm back up to 11... I can't do it. I end up dripping water into that little cup forever trying to hit the mark. The only explanation is that, as an American, I can't use mL's at all. Even though there's a common-sense science that the entire rest of the world understands behind using a Liter based system, my U.S.A. brain just can't comprehend it. But I can beat it. Call it ingenuity, call it improvisation, call it whatever you want. I'm going to put a piece of masking tape over the measurements and mark off 7 mL. But instead of labeling it with a 7, I'm going to label it as .24 oz - and just like that, I've solved the genetic default I'm cursed to live with. That's right, prepare to see one man's mastery over weights and measures.

Rob - 1
The First Years Bottle Warmer Company - 0

-Rob, Heather and Braeden

The Rest of the Story...

I've tried to sit down and write this blog four separate times now. But I always feel guilty on the off occasion that I have a few minutes to do nothing... that I am in-fact doing nothing. So then I get up and wash bottles, or put in a load of laundry, or mow the lawn. It's always something. I am amazed that we weren't the most super-productive people on earth before Braeden got here, because we apparently had hours and hours every day that weren't filled with him. What the heck did we do with our time??

Last Sunday, as we were rapidly approaching the end of week 4 with Mr. Braeden, both Heather and I were feeling the pangs of insomnia. You could measure the longest stretch of sleep either of us had gotten over the last month with an egg timer. So on Sunday, with friends in town and the adults outnumbering the children 4-2 I decided to catch a quick hour long nap. I looked at the clock, which read 5:05 an asked Heather to wake me up at 6:00. She said ok and I was out cold before my head even hit the pillow. Before I knew it, Heather was next to the bed waking me up, and I have to admit, I actually felt a little refreshed! So imagine my surprise when I look at the clock and discovered it was after 7 pm.


My first thought was how sweet it was of her to let me sleep so long while she took care of the baby... Little did I know how devious my wife really is. As the story slowly unfolded over the next two hours, it was revealed that my innocent request for a nap was actually a calculated move in the epic battle of mommy vs. daddy. I asked her to wake me up at six specifically because I decided that an hour long nap didn't qualify as "Sleep" so when it came time to decide who would take what feedings, I wouldn't be handicapped by my foray into snooze-ville. Chalk one up for the guys, right? Wrong...

Heather saw right through my plan and decided that if she didn't wake me up until 7, then I had a two hour nap, which in the unwritten book of new parenting does in-fact qualify as legitimate sleep. So she intentionally left me snoozing for her own personal gain... well played Mrs. Carlton, well played. I guess that will teach me to underestimate her. Next time I want to take an hour long strategic nap, I'll set the alarm.

Sleep Deprivation and Metaphor Useage...

Sounds like a lecture you took in freshman psych, right? Here's the lesson to be learned from my first three weeks as a dad. I am not a funny man when I'm surviving on 3 hours of sleep a night. First off let me put this out there. Heather's mother has been staying with us since Braeden was born, and without her, we would be totally lost. She cooks us dinner, cleans the house and has even taken Braeden for the night on several occasions so we can sleep. So those of you out there that did it on your own, Kudos to you... suckers. But even with Binnie here to be our third parent during this "feeling out" period with Braeden, we're still in survival mode.

This brings me to an incident last week when I was commenting on how fast the little guy is growing. As of his doctor's appointment last week he's 8lbs 14oz! Of course immediately after that he had his first warm water bath and the resulting muscle relaxation took him back to about 8lbs even I think. Anyway, I made the comment "wow Braeden, you're growing like a weed." Now, had I been in my right mind I would have realized Grandma Binnie's affinity for anything flora and seen that comparing her first grandchild to a weed would bring out the claws. But I was running on 3 hours of sleep and was sucker punched into a discussion about how we shouldn't compare him to a weed. "How about 'growing like a tulip' or 'growing like a lilly'" came the other options. At this point my sleep starved mind was racing with visions of my first born child running around in leotards doing his interpretive dance of the first cool breeze of autumn... Growing like a tulip... How do you respond to that?

We finally settled on "growing like a dandilion". I guess you have to pick your battles. Now I have to start working on converting her to "imaginary superbowl parties" instead of "imaginary tea parties". I think she'll be ok with it as long as we can invite all of his stuffed animals. Except for the penguin. I think that guy is a closet Denver Bronco's fan. Here are some more pics of Meester Braeden for all of his adoring fans. And if you will email me at r.carl10@gmail.com I'm trying to put together an email list so I can send you all a quick note when a new post is up with pictures. - Thanks for the emails and letters. We appreciate all of them.

-Rob Heather and Braeden-

Sphere of Influence...

Make a note of it. Heather was the first one to get peed on! Which meant that bath number 2 was four short hours after bath number 1. Braeden may not be able to get off his back, or change positions, but make no mistake about it, his "sphere of influence" is pretty big. He can get you with spit-up from about 6 inches away. He can tag you with some pee from about 3 feet, and if that doesn't do it, the slightest whimper will stop me dead in my tracks from anywhere in the house.

I'm surprised that I'm the neurotic parent out of the both of us. Heather is the one who has a spreadsheet for everything and I'm more of a "we'll get a hotel room when the plane lands" type of guy. So imagine our surprise when we discover that I'm the one who can't sleep through a cough from him, and every little red mark that appears is surely the start of some exotic disease that hasn't been seen around here for decades.

Today's trip to Chili's was a fine example. We get our table and he's sound asleep in his car seat but we had to get the Ringling Brothers trained waitress that swore she could stack 40 plates and hold them over the top of him. Then for an encore I'm pretty sure I saw her juggling steak knives over my 5 day old son. I ate my entire lunch in about 3 minutes and then had a rabid stare for anyone who got to close. Everyone eating there today left with a great story about the cute baby and the Neanderthal father who grunted and paced back and forth like a Silver-Back Gorilla when they stopped just a tad bit too long for his liking.

So my next great challenge as a father is to learn to relax just a little. I spent most of last night swearing he was coughing every thirty seconds only to discover I was loosing sleep over the sound that the humidifier was making. I'm sure eventually it will happen. After all, he's got a full life of eating dirt, chasing bugs and riding his bike into a pond ahead of him. Someday I'll have to relax and let him do his own thing. Someday I'll have to trust that he'll make the right decisions and maybe decide not to ride his bike off of the roof. I just need to be there to give him the advice he needs. And maybe he'll listen to dad because, remember, he peed on Heather first!

ROCKSTAR!!!

I am totally amazed that every single baby in the world doesn't grow up with a celebrity complex. Braeden has already posed for more pictures in his 3 short days than I think I have in my entire life. He's definitely getting the Rockstar treatment. He eats, poops, poses, sleeps and criticizes his parents on poor performance. The pediatrician had a great comment in the hospital when he said that baby's seem to thrive "despite" the best efforts of their parents.

Leaving the hospital yesterday was the most traumatic experience for me so far. Suddenly the highly trained support staff was gone and it was just Heather, me and Mr. Braeden (pronounced Meeester Braeden). It made it much easier knowing that we had a lot of experienced parents all around and that Grandma Binnie will be staying with us for the next two weeks. The funny thing about that is that Heather and I have a newborn baby living with us and we are eating better than we've eaten in years. Yeah, we're only getting about 2 hours of sleep a day but we just had pan seared seasoned chicken with a fresh garden salad and steamed carrots. Good trade off in my book!

It's definitely a week of firsts for little man. His first birth (hopefully the only one he will have to ever endure...). His first breath (easily the most amazing thing I've ever seen), first garage sale (thanks Chris for the heads up). And his first bath. That was probably more traumatic for Daddy than for him. I still can't handle hearing him cry so hard. I'll definitely be the pushover.

Thank you all for the calls and emails and we look forward to all of you meeting him. Hopefully all the fame won't go to his head and he'll still be willing to pose for pictures. But please, no autographs...

Meet Mr. Braeden

So, turns out the last post was correct, and he was ready to be here. Heather was admitted to the Maternity Ward at 2 pm and she had the epidural by 3 pm. Pushing started at 8 and we had a healthy baby son by 9:36 last night.

Braeden was 7lbs. 6oz. and 20 inches long. He came out crying and has pretty much slept since then. Here are a few pics. I'll update along the way when we can. We have wireless at the hospital! Now I just need time... From what I understand that will be in short supply for about 18 years.

-Braeden, Heather and Rob-

Today's the Day!!

Ok, short post today. I picked Heather up from work about an hour ago (it's now 11:30 am) and we're timing contractions. Looks like it might be today. I'll keep you all posted. Here's "Heather Pregnant Version 40.5" for you to look at. Big thanks to Blogspot for picking today to run maintenance and make this update nearly impossible. I'll keep you all updated but I'm at the Google teams mercy right now.

-Frazzled Rob-

Big Brave Daddy...

I was heading to work yesterday morning and as I went through the garage, I saw a big furry black spider on the lip of our trash can. I had my gym bag in one hand, and my lunch in the other, so I (being Mr. Smooth) just shot my foot out to crush this unwelcome guest. Well Mr. Smooth has an eye-foot coordination problem and I actually hit just below the spider, thus compressing the lip of the trash can into a spring-board and shooting the giant hairy spider right onto my chest.

Needless to say I started making some really wierd sounds, hyperventelating and running in circles. I think that this is a survival instinct to make me look so stupid that nothing in it's right mind would want to attack me for fear of catching whatever brain desease I have. I was finally able to get the spider off of me and crush him and my next instinct was to look around and see if anyone saw my little act. Even though I knew I was in my own garage totally by myself, I looked for someone watching me and judging my performance on a scale of 1-idiot.

As everything does these days, it started the wheels turning about Braeden. Just last week we had some of the neighbors over and a 5 year old boy and I were watching a Wolf Spider run through the yard. I was telling him how they live in holes in the ground and take care of mice and bugs around the yard. "Don't be afraid of him, he may look scary but he's a good little guy to have around," I said. And one week later I'm running around doing what can only be discribed as a bad impression of a Tyrannasaurus because of a spider half the size of the one we were watching. So what is the life lesson in all of this that I can impart? I think it's this: Braeden, don't stand too close to daddy when a spider lands on him. And screaming like a little girl is a very manly thing to do.

Man, I'm gonna be an awesome dad!

-Rob and Team Heather-

Arriving here...

As we're all sitting back and waiting for Braeden to arrive, I was reflecting on how I got to this point myself. I have a very vivid memory of being 12 or 13 years old and watching my dad make fried chicken one night for dinner. I remember thinking, I have no idea how to make fried chicken. I have no idea how to pay taxes or buy a car. It sounds pretty rediculous now, but I actually started to wonder how someone could possibly learn everything it takes to be an adult in the amount of time your given to grow up.

As I look back on it now, I realize that you can't really learn it all in time. I still don't have a clue how to make fried chicken other than to call KFC. I still don't do my own taxes. I do know how to buy a car, so I guess one out of 3 isn't bad right? What I do know however, is that I've been given the skills to figure things out on my own, and that's what I need to pass on as a father. I can't possibly teach Braeden everything he needs to know by the time he leaves for college. 18 years just isn't long enough to prepare someone for the world we live in now, much less the world as it will be two decades from now. But what I can do is teach him to be confident in his decisions, and learn from his mistakes.

Now I just have to brush up on my "When I was a boy" stories. I think I'll start with how we used to have to fry our own chicken...

- Rob and Team Heather -

Scary Moments...

It's amazing how fast you can get used to something. The doctors told us that Braeden should be moving 10 times in an 8 hour period. However, little man surpasses his daily movement count by about 5:30 in the morning. So two Friday's ago, when he wasn't kicking at all, we were both worried about 7:30. We decided that if he wasn't moving around by about 10 am then we'd call the doctors office. We even pushed on Heather's belly to get some type of reaction, but nothing. So Heather called the doctor at 11 am and they had her in a room being monitored before noon. They have a score that they give unborn babies where they grade them on four characteristics (muscle tone, fluid around the baby, dexterity, and practice breathing). Braeden did fine in everything but his practice breathing. So our unborn child is neglecting his homework already.

Anyway, he got 6/8 from his test which meant that we needed to do an ultrasound. They re-assured us that nothing was unusual, just that they liked to see evidence that he was going through the motions of breathing. So they take us over to the delivery ward and hook Heather up to all kinds of monitors. Two hours (and many tests) later, everything was fine but it made me realize how we had gotten to take his little movements for granted. It also made me realize what a huge impact he has on my life long before I even actually "meet" him. I also realize that we have a lifetime of trying not to sweat the small things ahead of us. I think I can manage, but his mom's going to be a mess...

Rob and Team Heather...

Mozart or Manilow

We met with the Maternity Care Coordinator at the hospital yesterday. She mentioned a sing and sign class to teach Braeden how to use sign language to communicate. I'm sure most of you probably know, but the theory is that children can actually comprehend language before they can articulate it. So by teaching him some sign language, Braeden can communicate with Heather and I before he can speak. I am pretty excited about the whole thing. I'm counting on a genius baby who will be able to talk politics and physics by the time he's 9 months old. Heather always gives me the "you're such a wierdo" look when I try to talk to her about any of that stuff.

Anyway, the fact that the class is "sing and sign" got me to thinking about music choices. Growing up, I was very lucky to have a wide variety of musical choices to listen to. My dad hammered classic rock down our throats and my own musical preference goes towards more modern rock bands (nickleback, 7 dust, seether) because of it. It's amazing to see how current bands pull so much influence from those that came before them. My mom is a huge Neil Diamond fan, and grandparents on the other side will represent the "Fanilows". No offense guys, but my favorite Barry Manilow song is "I am stuck on band-aid" and that's about it.

When my father was born, Benny Goodman and Bing Crosby ruled the charts. When I was born, it was Styx and the Bee Gees. And for Braeden, it's T-Pain and Young Jeezy. It's going to be interesting to see where his music tastes fall. Mine are all over the board. While I was writing this, that commercial for "Free Credit Report.com" came on.

F-R-E-E that spells Free
Credit report.com baby...

Man, I love that song.

Rob and Team Heather...

Planning my Saturdays...

Heather and I have always been in agreement that it would be great for me to have a special ritual with Braeden. Something that only he and I do together and we can all look forward to. So the thing I've settled on is "Saturday's with Daddy". The plan is (for a while atleast) every Saturday I will take him out to a park, or the zoo or something and we both let Mom sleep in. Works out great for me because I get to have time alone with my son to teach him about burping, and the in-field fly rule. And Heather gets a morning to herself, which from what I understand, is something that will become increasingly rare as our lives continue.

So now, I'm just planning the locations. I've got to take him to the sculpture garden at Nelson Atkins, The KC Zoo, and Grandma C of course suggested the park located conveniently near her house. The only thing that is really worrying me at this point is the diaper bag. It's an intimidating little backpack. I've looked at 5 different web sites and now have 5 different lists of "essentials" that should be in it. Toys, diapers, cream, wipes, etc... But from what I understand, I have to just wait and see what works for us. So it's becoming apparent that the first few "Saturday's with Daddy" will be very interesting and I'll need to be pretty resourceful. I'll keep you all posted.

Rob and Team Heather...

Breakdancing Baby

Everyone told us that it would happen, but until I saw the baby actually rolling over in Heather's tummy, I didn't realize how cool it would be. Gotta admit, it freaked me out at first. It was like he was stretching, one side was the ?head? and the other side had a couple of ?feet? poking out. At least I think that was the case.

I think Heather has finally reached the "ok, I'm done with this being pregnant stuff" stage. I've been relegated to sleeping on the couch. For a while there, I'd wake up to the alarm at 5:45 and she would be gone. She had been getting up around 3:45-4:00 am and moving to the couch. Imagine how much of a jerk I felt like when I realized that I was taking up the whole bed while the pregnant lady had to move to the living room. So to solve that, I'm just starting out on the couch to begin with. So far, two nights down and two nights of restful sleep for the baby lady. Hope everyone is doing well. We'll see some of you at the Wichita baby shower this weekend.

- Rob and Team Heather -

Belly Pics!

Team Heather is coming along nicely! I've uploaded a time line of belly pics at www.photoshop.com/user/carl10 for everyone to take a look at. There's a check box at the top right hand corner to turn the captions on in the galleries. That way you can see how many weeks along Heather was when the pictures were taken. I want to take full advantage of the only time in my life that I will be able to make any type of comment on my wifes stomach. Isn't she cute!?

We've had a couple of days of sickness in the house. Heather had to stay home from work on Monday and we think it's a stomach flu. But get a few popsicles for her and she's all better (for the most part). Braeden's kicking like crazy. The doctor told us that he should be moving 10 times a day, and he passes that by 4:30 in the morning. He's an active little guy. I guess he's getting in his Hockey practice early. I've got a scouting call in to Boston College but no reply yet. They better hurry or they will blow their chance.

Thats all for now. We promise to update much more often. And Chelsey, the next post will be pictures of the house. We'll give you a virtual tour.

Rob and Team Heather...

Braeden's Back!

Sorry to everyone that's been patiently waiting for the new post. We've been very busy around here and I haven't been very good at keeping up with the blog. I'm also a little in shock since discovering exactly how much stuff you need to have on hand for a little dude. Braeden now has his own storage room in the basement. I'm 28 and I don't even have that. So other than storing enough supplies to handle an army for a short time, we're just preparing our house and our lives for his impending arrival.

If you go to https://www.photoshop.com/user/carl10 you'll see the nursery in all it's glory. I'll post more photos shortly, I promise.

-Rob and Team Heather

Belly Pictures

Heather at 28 weeks - Feb. 29th

Belly Pictures

Heather at 24 weeks - Feb 1st











Heather at 20 weeks - Jan 4th

Babies R' Confusing...

There are approximately 1,000 different options when looking at baby bottles. Do I want the curved bottle to reduce intestinal gas, or should we take the bottle that has the plastic throw away liners? Wide opening bottle nipples, or narrow, original, or dentist approved... It never ends. And Heather and I made the mistake of starting the in the bottle aisle for our registration.

Now in my opinion, Babies R' Us is designed by an evil mastermind. Let's take the simplest tasks like picking out a bib for a baby and make people decide between about 250 different ones so that they go absolutely nuts and we can see just how strong the marital bond really is. The point of this rant is, if you happen to come across our baby registry, please note that great care was taken in the beginning to look at each option and make the best decision... in the beginning. However, 2 and a half hours into the process, I was walking half an aisle in front of Heather with that rediculous "scanner gun" yelling out "do we need one of these?" "Probably??" Beep, beep. Chalk another one up to the Babies R' Us Masterminds...

This was our first real taste of exactly what the logistics of taking Braeden anywhere. Can't just pack a couple of diapers and be on our way, noooo sir. Gotta pack the diapers, wipes, bottle, extra bottle, bottle warmer, pacifier, something called butt paste (another win for the masterminds), another bottle, more diapers... Are we going to be somewhere for any length of time? If so, better bring the "pack'n'play", stroller, formula, extra jumpers, and finally more diapers. Got it all, let's go... Half way down the street we will realize we are the most prepared parents on earth and we are ready for anything... if only we hadn't forgotten our son in his crib back at the house... I can see it now.

To everyone that's asked... sorry it took over two weeks to get the new blog up. We didn't realize so many people were reading it. So if you're reading this, please take a minute and leave a comment at the bottom so we know who's visiting. I've got some new pictures of Team Heather and we're making good progress on the nursery. I'll get them posted up soon. There's a camera cable on the way to Missouri as we speak. Talk to everyone soon.

Rob, Heather and Braeden Carlton

That Guy...

I have one goal for my "stint" as a father. I have to keep my son from becoming "That Guy". You all know who I'm talking about. You've probably come across him in the last week. "That Guy" is the one on the bus that doesn't give his seat to an old lady. He's the guy who doesn't know when to stop ordering drinks at the ball game. He is that man standing on the median selling candy bars last weekend when it was 25 degrees outside... (wearing shorts). "That Guy" is the person that makes you look around at other people and think "did anyone else see that?" "Did anyone else hear that guy??"

My job is to keep Braeden from drawing those astonished looks from people. It is, however, much more of a delicate balancing act than it appears to be at first glance. How do I explain to him the intricacies of relationships that makes it ok for me to laugh hysterically at my friend Mike when he falls through a manhole cover at a park, but unthinkable to giggle if it happens to an old lady on main street? For that matter, how do I even know the difference for myself? How do I teach him to appreciate Don Henley and fear Elton John? How do I help him choose dogs over cats? Waffles over pancakes, Mac's over PC's, Good over evil... I guess I already said Dogs over Cats. And finally, it's ok to laugh at his own gas but never never at his mothers... I've already learned that one for him.

On another note, I've defeated the digital camera and here are a couple of belly the pics you've all been waiting for! Blue shirt is 12 weeks (November 9th) and red shirt is 16 weeks (December 7th). More pictures to follow...

- Rob, Heather and Braeden Carlton

B stands for...

Today was the big day when we found out who was joining the family. We met the baby. We met Braeden! Team Heather is coed, and the men will one day rule the house... I'm biding my time until baseball overrules "The Housewives of Orange County." I really hate those women.

If you don't know, this is actually the third round of Ultrasounds we've had. We had two separate "viewings" of the baby early on at 5 and 6 weeks just to make sure everything was ok. At that point we got to see our spot (week 5) and our beating sack of heart (week 6). I can't speak for Heather but I was totally un-prepared for the amount of detail that we saw in this ultrasound. By the way, if you're wondering he has my eyes, and Heather's nose.

When we got into the room for the procedure, the nurse went through the process with us. "We are going to view the heart, count the chambers, measure the circumference of this, check the length of that, count the number of those etc. etc. etc. Then she was ready to go. "Excuse me," we said, "we'll be able to see if we're having a boy or a girl, right?" At this point I would like to say that the nurse was not as optimistic as I would have liked. "Well, I can't guarantee anything, it all depends on your child and how cooperative he or she is." So she squirted the goo (that's scientific language for those of you who don't know) and pulled out the tummy wand and we we were off.

As the first picture came into focus on the tv screen Heather and I looked at each other. It couldn't have been clearer if Braeden had taken out a full page ad in the Kansas City Star. "HEY IDIOTS... I'M A BOY, SO CUT IT OUT WITH THE HE OR SHE CRAP!"

So I'm going to have a son. I've started practicing my dad phrases. "That's my Boy" "Look what my son made!" "Stop kicking the cat!" ... Actually, I may hold off on that one.

-Rob, Heather and Braeden Carlton