In the last nine days, I have been in three States, have held three new babies, and have watched my wife’s baby-clock go from tick…tick….tick… to BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!  There were three pregnant bridesmaids at our wedding and one of the groomsmen had a very pregnant wife.  In Portland, we met Trystan: A handsome 3-week old little man that is the spitting image of his father.  In Orange County, CA I met Valiant:  a 5-week old heart breaker that looks like his Mommy.  In San Francisco I met Valentina for the first time – Stamps-With-Foot was there for the birth.  Valentina is 6 weeks old and also looks like her daddy.

All these little ones have, seemingly overnight, turned my sweet little “puppies-are-better-than-babies” wife into one of those crazy ladies who talks of nothing but nurseries, baby clothes, water births, talcum powder smells, and the merits of cloth vs. disposal…  All the diaper talk mania is taking its toll on me:  I had a dream a couple nights ago in which Stamp-With-Foot locked me in a room and made me perform till there were babies.  By the time I woke up (I should saw was jolted awake, sweating), there were like 20 of them at all different ages and sizes as well as 4 rabbits.  Some jars of my grandmother Talley’s plum jelly also made an appearance (WTF?!)…