Boy, oh, boy!

Baby Beaudry is a BOY!

Jennifer and I found out on Friday during a checkup at the hospital. I saw the evidence myself. He's a Beaudry, all right, and proud of it!

We also received some new pictures to show you. From this image, you can see his face, looking up:

You can make out the nose, mouth, and a little part of his hand by the lips. I think he may be smiling. Awwwwwww...

Sadly, the wider shot doesn't draw quite the same reaction. Take a look:

The little one has some BIG feet! No wonder Jennifer's been feeling a lot of kicks! The ultrasound technician says the feet are just leading the way... this guy won't be a small baby. Looks like I'll have to be extra nice to Jennifer in the coming months.

So, now, the big mystery is over... though the revelation may present a problem: "Lady Bird" is currently the top vote-getter of the "Choose the name" poll. Fortunately, Jennifer and I are open-minded about these things. We don't want our child to be forced into age-old stereotypes. So, if little girls can play football, I suppose little boys can be named "Lady Bird." He may have some trouble with the kids in the playground, though. Especially with those big feet.

Chubby chucked

The little one got a checkup at the doctor's on Friday, and everything is going perfectly so far. We heard a strong heartbeat, and we asked the important questions, such as "Do foot rubs cause premature contractions?" (To Jennifer's relief, the answer was "no.") At the end of the checkup, though, we got some devastating news. As Jennifer twisted herself to get her shoes in back of her, the doctor frowned and said, "you shouldn't do that."

Imagine how crushed we were to hear that! After all, just four short years ago, Jennifer and I were finalists in a twisting contest at Stephanie & Chuck's wedding. But Friday, twisting was added to the long list of things Jennifer cannot do.

So when we got home, we smashed most of our Chubby Checker CD's. No more The Twist, Let's Twist Again, Slow Twistin', Twistin' at the Funeral, or our more recent favorite, Twistin' 'Cause You're Pregnant. We kept Limbo Rock because the doc didn't say anything to stop Jennifer from limboing, thank goodness.

This weekend we also began our search for a new apartment. No luck so far. Either the apartments we like are in bad neighborhoods, or they have knives coming out of the floorboards, and we just don't think that's safe for a newborn. We're optimistic, though, that we'll soon find something we like.

What Baby wants, Baby gets

We're back from our week in North Carolina. We had a great time celebrating Christmas with Jennifer's side of the family, and the little one seemed to enjoy it, too, having kicked Jennifer a few times before the flight home. He or she was apparently showing approval of the trip, or throwing a temper tantrum over leaving the warm south (the latter is highly unlikely, since our child will never throw a fit like that... right?).

Jennifer didn't feel any strong cravings this time around. During our last trip to Carolina, on Thanksgiving night, the little one DEMANDED sour cream and onion potato chips. Jennifer's parents didn't have any, so we trekked out, through the dark streets of Winston-Salem, searching for the snack, which, of course, wasn't easy to find. CVS didn't have any - plenty of barbecue, but no sour cream and onion. Walgreen's was closed because of the holiday, and so was Harris Teeter. At that point, grabbing a crowbar and breaking in seemed like a good idea - I'm sure the cops would have understood the situation. Fortunately I didn't have to, since we eventually found the snack at a gas station.

Now Jennifer's cravings haven't been as unusual as some of my friends have hoped they'd be. No pickles & peanut butter, or sardines & mayo. Nope - Jennifer has craved foods like apple juice, Starburst candy, and chocolate. She often declares "the baby wants..." before revealing her craving- therefore removing herself from all responsibilty while giving me no choice but to provide. For example: "The baby wants creme brulee... and diamond earrings."

(Above: Some of Jennifer's cravings)

Jennifer is still drinking a lot of apple juice, and having chocolate from time to time, but she says her cravings are, for the most part, a thing of the past. However, since she is eating for two, you can't blame her for having food on the mind. That was evident a little more than a week ago, when we were watching an old episode of Family Feud. The host announced topic of the face-off, which was "Name something that's worth the wait."

Jennifer sat up, and with wide eyes shouted "DESSERT!!!"

Meanwhile, on the TV, the contestant's answer was... "a husband."

Happy New Year!

We hope your New Year's Eve was as much fun as ours. The above picture was taken by our friend Amanda during the party at Kinsale Pub in Manhattan. Jennifer, of course, wasn't drinking alcohol. As you probably guessed from the picture, I can't say the same thing about me.

So, here we are, in 2008 - the year we become parents. Wow. Still a little hard to believe. I'm both anxious and excited, and I know we have a lot to do before we get there. The whole "New Year's Resolution" thing's a little silly this year - I mean, where do I begin?

Next week we head to North Carolina to do some late-Christmas celebrating with Jennifer's side of the family, so it might be a little while before I post again. I'll be too busy working on my drawl.

The lion invades tonight

We're back in New York, after spending Christmas with my family up in snowy Methuen, Massachusetts. It was a great time - filled with family and friend reunions, heaps of delicious food, and numerous warnings shouted my way to "make sure Jennifer doesn't fall on the ice!!"

Santa was generous to all of us, including the little one, who received his/her first stuffed animal Christmas gift: a ferocious, blood-thirsty carnivore... in a cuddly form.



There's a monkey and rhino, too - and they sing! It's very, very nice. Of course, the introduction of this stuffed animal into our home means we must officially start turning a particular room of our apartment into a nursery. And, naturally, that room would be the one room I have complete control over: the office. As you can see below, the transformation has already begun.



Sure, it doesn't look much like a nursery now, but slowly more and more animals will appear, replacing the books, papers, and even the computer. Soon, the room Jennifer insists I have complete control over - a room she has NOTHING to do with - will no longer be mine. At least I'll still have the TV, right?

In other news: the little one spent the past week getting larger. It looks like Jennifer will soon be able to get a seat on the subway without any problems.

He/She's got the beat

THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP...

Had it been an adult's heartbeat, you'd probably recommend laying off the donuts. But the rapid heartbeat we heard today was very healthy, even if it was very fast. It also sounded like it was underwater... so it was more like a "swish." Our kid's getting some good swimming done in all that fluid. He or she's gonna become an Olympic athlete, I think.

That's all to report right now - sorry no more pictures, folks. Next month we should get one, as we may learn whether the little one's a "He" or a "She." Are you on the edge of your seat like I am?

Merry Christmas everyone!

Manny Christmas

Well, I did it. I went ahead and bought our little one his or her first gift. Even though this Christmas will happen before he or she is born, I couldn't resist picking up this little present when I was in Boston last weekend:



Yes, I know it may be too early to determine exactly where our child's baseball preferences will lie, but I'm pretty sure he or she will be a Red Sox fan. Just a father's hunch.

Plus, I've already taken some precautions to make sure he or she will never root for the Evil Empire.

I've labeled dangerous items in the house with the Yankees logo - open electrical outlets, paints, drugs, knives, etc. That way our child will grow up associating bad things with the Yankees.

Since we're in New York, we feel we'll have to teach our child "Right vs. Yankees" early on. When he or she gets a little older, we'll probably expand this treatment to build up a love for the Tar Heels, too. For example, on the rare occasion when our child does something wrong and needs to be grounded, we'll just say he or she is being "Blue Deviled." If we need to deprive him or her of dessert, we'll just call the punishment "The Krzyzewski."

And, trust me, our kid will not want to be "Steinbrennered." Let's just hope it never comes to that.