My irrational fears about imminent parenthood

I haven’t written in a while because I am consumed with irrational fears about parenthood.  For instance, every day for the last 18 days, I have started the day by asking Anne if she’s in labor.  She never is.

Anne promises that she’ll tell me as soon as she knows, but I’m worried that she’ll keep it to herself for a few minutes because she’s not sure if it’s really happening.  Then, during those minutes, the baby will come out, and grow up, learn the violin, go off to college, get an amazing job, win the masters, become disgustingly rich, and not give me any of the money because I missed it all.  If Anne just had the decency to tell me that she was in labor, then I’d be driving a Benz right now.

See what I mean?  Totally irrational (but kind of legitimate, right?).  Also, as I played out that scenario in my head, I totally pictured the kid as a girl.  Does that mean it’s a girl?  That’s not a super scientific way of figuring out gender, but is it accurate?  60% of the baby pool responses say no.

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While I’m at it, here’s a summary of the responses:

Birthdate:  Responses ranged from 8/3/13 (gasp!) to 9/1/13 (Insert Anne gasp here).  The most popular response was 8/20/13, two days late.

Baby weight:  Responses ranged from 6 lbs 7 oz to 9 lbs 8oz., submitted by Kerry.  Kerry, you obviously studied my baby pictures, but Anne thinks you’re a god damn motherfucking bitch right now.  Ryan’s response of >19 lbs is disqualified for public health and safety reasons.

Will Rob pass out?  More than 50% of responses say “no.”  Love you guys.

You all think that I will maintain a healthy weight at the time of birth.  Except for a few readers, who shall remain nameless.  Like Robert Harms, the prick who said I would weight 201.4 lbs at birth and that dickhead, Ryan, who thinks I’ll balloon up to 265.

To no one’s surprise, way more of you like Anne better than you like me.  Why don’t you follow her blog then?  Exactly.  Because she doesn’t have one.  If she did, I’d like it more than this one too.  Anne’s the best.

chart

And finally, here are some of the best responses to the “Please use this space to provide any well wishes or parenting advice.”

“I hope your kid has massive balls, but only if it’s a boy.”  – Guess who.

“You’ll be a great, overbearing and lovably obsessive father. Your child will grow up with numerous complexes created by you.”

“Don’t read a newspaper or write your blog whilst Anne is actually in labour.”  I’m just including this one because of whilst.  What a stupid word.

“Rob: Reminders: Good tempo, slow take away, head down, stay on plane and finish your swing. Wait, what was this about again? Good luck Anne!”  – Someone who gets me.

“I don’t have kids, but my cat is ‘kind of’ a kid. I guess my advice is, keep it off the back of the sofa and teach it where to poop as early as possible.”  – Weird cat lady.

“Your humor makes the work day bearable.” – Probably my “test” submission.

“Rob – Don’t be a jackass! Anne – You are awesome! ” – Anne’s dad.

“And just so you know, I like Anne better because something tells me she is tougher about this whole situation than you.”  – Typical reader of my blog.

” Rob, don’t be a douche.”

“This poor, poor (Lucky!) child.”

“if you do the exact opposite of my parents, I may be able to guar.an.tee your kid will be at least 14 before smoking pot”

Those were actually real responses, not like the edited responses I gave in all of the interview with a parent blogs.  It’s nothing compared to your pictures of how you think the baby will look:

Babe1

 

Little_Pollak

fatrob001

Anyway, here are the things that are really freaking me out right now:

1 – I haven’t figured out how to install the car seat, nor do I believe that it’s something that’s possible to figure out.
2 – I haven’t assembled the crib or any other furniture in the nursery.
3 – I don’t know how to change a diaper.
4 – I am a little behind on sleep and keep thinking I’ll catch up on the weekend, but then I remember 100 things I forgot to do last weekend.
5 – I want to play a few more rounds of golf, which I do every weekend when I”m supposed to be doing all that other stuff.
6 – I’m scared of the animalistic sounds anne might make in the hospital.  Special thanks to the reader that shared this terrifying video of what it’s going to be like:
7 – I’m scared of hospitals
8 – I dislike spit up tremendously
9 – I think the kid might look like me
10 – I think the kid might not look like me
11 – I think I might fuck up the spelling of the name, like the parents of baseball player jhonny peralta
12 – Anne and I moved into a new home and now I am obsessed with HGTV and I’m worried that Pinterest will be next.  What do you think of these drapes, by the way?
Modern interior. 3D render. Living-room. Exclusive design.

 

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Media Roundup

Yesterday, I shared some big news on facebook:

NYTSome were skeptical of this information, so I linked to a secondary source documenting my prowess:

nypostI was not able to provide a “link” to more information, so the people remained wary. But today I’m pleased to admit that I’ve found some program that allows me to edit real websites. And I love it more than anything in the world (except golf).

Bieber Tweets

PGATour

googleEnough of that. Because it has been a while since my last post, I’m going to update you on all the things you’ve been wondering about. (A big “suck it” goes out to the reader who always picks on me for mixing up “since” and “because.”)

The 80 to Baby Project is still going strong. If I can just make it to the gym about 64 times in the next three or four weeks, I should achieve all of my goals. You probably noticed that I didn’t include any photos in this post. That’s because I recently learned about couvade syndrome, which occurs when a man takes on the symptoms of pregnancy.

The couvade symptoms include violent mood swings, intense ice cream cravings, weight gain, constipation, irritability, sluggishness, and hilariousness. I need to get to a grand rounds at a major medical center stat (good use of medical term, right?) because I have been exhibiting couvade symptoms for my entire life. Pregnant women just get a 9 month glimpse of what it’s like to be me.

– the baby pool submissions are still under review and I plan to give a breakdown soon of your picks. In sum, most of you think of me as a fat, egotistical, asshole with a perfect wife who will give birth to a baby between 5 and 75 lbs. You universally like her better than you like me, but you showed that by predicting she would be ten weeks overdue during a sweltering summer. Thanks guys!

I wrote half of this from my phone and I have meatballs for thumbs. Apologies for any horrible typos. Damn you autocorrect!

The Official Rob (and Anne) Complains About Things Baby Pool

Welcome to the first annual Rob (and Anne) Complains About Things (other than their baby) Baby Pool.

A drawing launching a baby pool for my blog

CLICK HERE to submit your entry to the baby pool.  It only takes a minute to enter, but by doing so, you will receive 15 seconds of entertainment.

If you like to read the “fine print” then the rest of this post is just for you!

The Rules are as follows:

  1. One entry per person (no purchase necessary).
  2. The winner will be the person who submits the best entry form.  Because the answers to some of the questions will not be finalized for many many years, this will be a somewhat arbitrary process.  In other words, the person who does the best on picking the gender/DOB/weight/height/Apgar score/Rob Pass out/name will win.  In the event of a tie, all prize money will be donated to charity (Baby’s college fund).
  3. People who have provided interviews to this blog about parenting are all already winners in my mind!  But if they do win the contest, their prizes will be as follows:
    1. If Andy wins, the prize will be one pair of Hank and Jojo socks.
    2. If Ryan wins, the prize will be a weekly guest spot on my blog.
    3. If Suburban Mom wins, the prize will be extra blog traffic for my blog.  She wins!
  4. Anne is not allowed to enter.  Not for any specific reason, but it would really crush my spirits if she did better than I did in this pool.
  5. These rules don’t matter because, as you’re about to see, the prizes are all really shitty.  If you still want to enter, here’s what you could win:  

First Prize:

  • Have the baby named after you (redeemable only if the winning entry has the same name as we were going to pick for the kid anyway).
  • A custom stick figure drawing.
  • An autographed photo of me passed out in the delivery room.  If I don’t pass out, an autographed photo of placenta.
  • A blog post all about you.
  • Three unused Rob Complains About Things Stamps (cash value $1.38)

Second Prize:

  • A slightly shittier custom stick figure drawing.
  • An autographed photo of me doing yoga.
  • A blog post all about someone else but mentioning you.
  • Two unused Rob Complains About Things Stamps (cash value $0.92)

Third Prize:

  • Yeah, right.  Like I’m going to give a prize to someone who couldn’t even make the top two.  You suck!
  • $3 cash
  • One unused Rob Complains About Things Stamp

Last Place:

  • You will be mocked relentlessly by me.  Unless I finish last, in which case the scores will be manipulated in such a way as to make it seem like someone else finished last.

Good luck to all participants.  I am ineligible for any prizes (except first or second prize), but I will submit an entry to crush you all with my inside information.

Thanks for participating.  Here’s the link again in case I f*cked up the one I posted at the beginning:

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1d_cPSTVFTNRR4CijYDsD3nNlojriX6UL1oX-zXviuXU/viewform

New PGA Tour Initiative – The PAL Program

On Friday, I had the opportunity to go and see the epic U.S. Open in person.  As I watched the “These guys are good” guys get worked by the golf course, I couldn’t help but wonder what I would shoot if given the opportunity to play Merion.  On one hand, the course was playing hard, the greens were fast, and the rough was thick and muddy.  On the other, I have a lot more experience playing from shitty lies than the PGA tour players have.

One way for the USGA and the PGA Tour to handle such questions is to launch a new initiative.  I call it the PGA Average Lad Program (the P.A.L. Program).  The basic gist of the PAL Program goes like this:  Think you could shoot an 80 at Merion?  Let’s see it PAL.  In other words, in every PGA tournament, one average lad would join the elite players when they tee it up on Thursday.  The PGA PAL would play the same set of tees and would serve as the proverbial pace car for the tour.

Because the PGA PAL is not a professional golfer, the PGA should follow the following guidelines when implementing the program:

  • The PAL can’t have a handicap lower than 7.
  • The PAL can’t miss the cut.  What would be the point if we couldn’t compare the PAL to Phil Mickelson on the weekends?  However, if the PAL hits 3 or more spectators with errant shots, he will be disqualified from the event and will have to stand up against a wall like in Butt’s up while Tiger and Bubba Watson fire punch shots at him.
  • The PAL has a maximum score of double par on every hole.  Once he reaches double par, he picks up his ball and places it on the green next to his PGA Tour playing companion.  If the PAL putts his ball closer than the PGA Professional, the USGA donates $7 to charity.
  • I will be the first PAL, and the program will be launched at the 2014 Masters.

PAL

  • One PGA Tour player will be paired with the PAL.  To determine this player, the competitor who finished in the worst position the previous week will be paired with the PAL.
  • The PAL can wear shorts.
  • If the PAL finishes in the top 10 of a tournament, he receives 1,000,000 from a corporate sponsor.

That’s basically the proposal.  It makes complete sense to me and I think it could really take the game to a whole new level.  USGA – Let’s make this happen.  Thanks, Pal!

 

The Culmination of My Spiritual Journey

For the past 18 months or so, I have been on a spiritual journey that I didn’t quite understand.  First, it was yoga.  I told myself it was for the physical benefits and tough core workouts.  Then, I tried meditating.  I told myself it would make for a funny blog post (it did).     And that was just the beginning.  Before you’d know it, I was knee-deep in self-help books, psychiatry, and even open to attending a hypnobirthing class, where they tested every boundary I’d ever considered myself to have.

A quick digression to list some quick notes about hypnobirthing:

  1. I’ve learned that inducing labor should be avoided if at all possible.  To have a natural progression into labor, hypnobirthing recommends a) Eggplant Parmigiano, b) an enema, c) sex (not in that order).
  2. When the teacher says to practice birth breathing by “bearing down and pretending like you’re pooping out an elephant,” that is not a joke and not a time to give a knowing “I’ve been there before, yo” laugh.
  3. Eggplant parm’s ruined for me.  Ruined.

Through this spiritual journey, I have become a calmer and gentler version of me.  But I didn’t understand why.  At least until now.  Last week, I discovered a book called Golf is not a Game of Perfect, by Dr. Bob Rotella, or Guru Rotella as I call him.  This book essentially describes all the ways one can be a head case on the golf course.  I don’t recall how I discovered this book.  Sometimes you seek out Guru Rotella, sometimes he just appears.  For me, he just appeared when I downloaded his book from audible and listened to it on the car ride to one of my appointments.

Who wouldn’t listen to this man?

A week later, I am on a nightly regimen of using an app called Refresh, which leads me through positive affirmations about all facets of my golf game like these:

  • My short game has all the shots.
  • I am a wizard from the bunkers.
  • I hit bombs.
  • I am a great golfer.
  • I check the course conditions when I get to the course.
  • I drink enough water.
  • I swing my irons with a smooth tempo.

photo (21)

Junk like that.  It’s funny, but as I’m writing this, I went to link up to the app and I couldn’t find it on Google.  It probably only existed for a brief period of time.  Like the machine in the movie Big that granted the kid’s wish.  Maybe I shouldn’t tell you about it?

Guru Bob advocates that golfers stay in the present, focusing only on the shot in front of them and choosing the smallest possible target.  I’ve been trying to do this for the last week and my game has improved to epic proportions.  I legitimately think I could play on the senior PGA tour if a) Anne lets me, b) I practice nonstop for the next 15 years, c) the kid we have likes golf as much as I plan to make him/her, and d) Anne lets me.

The fascinating part of this spiritual journey is that without the yoga and meditation, I honestly don’t think I’d be able to come close to any of the things Dr. Bob suggests.  After years of being a complete head case, these activities have taught me how many of the things that we think are predetermined are actually in our control.  Like just because I started with pars on the first seven holes, doesn’t mean that I need to make a quadruple bogey on the eighth hole to even things out.  Even though that happens a lot and still happens, Bikram Bob has taught me how to bring my focus back to the task in front of me.

All of this is just a long-winded way of saying that the weather has improved and now the time I was spending at the yoga studio or meditating is now spent on the golf course.  I just want to justify that to my loyal readers.