Saturday, January 16, 2010

Piccadilly's sex organs...the extended version.

Here is the expanded post on the trip to look at Blair's penis. Enjoy.

I'd previously mentioned going one place on January the 9th. I didn't complain, but they kinda irked me on the phone. They didn't seem that professional & I just didn't see it being a great experience. Being the most impatient person on earth, I really wanted to know if my baby had indoor or outdoor plumbing, so when I happened across a place that offered a guarantee as early as 14 weeks for the same price & seemed more professional, I jumped at the chance to use them. I called the day after Christmas & they got me in for that Monday, less than 48 hours in advance. Awesome.

Did I mention it was a 3 hour drive?

Well, it was a 3 hour drive.

Anyway, I drop Jules off at my parents & head out on our trip. Our first trip is to get gas, since we're on empty. Having a fancy VW Passat, it sets off a shit load of alarms if anything is going on with your car. On that day, I needed windsheild fluid (or as I call it, wishy-washy fluid) & antifreeze. And air in my tires. But I always seem to need air in my tires. So as we gassed up the family roadster, Adam tried to find where to put antifreeze in my car. Always a good start on a trip.

We sat out on the road, eventually we get there. Well, we took a wrong exit & drive around all over the place to get back ON the interstate to take another. Once we did that, we realized we were on the same road as previously, just in the other direction. So we wasted like 20 minutes on that. Great, huh?

We finally get to the place, which is located in a little medical office area. I carefully walk on the ice (did I mention it was a snow storm? Well, it was), & make my way to the door. We pay, we get sat in the waiting room, we wait.

Eventually it's out turn & we are taken back to a room while waiting on our tech. It was something.


Room for up to 20 people.


I don't even know 20 people.

Well, scratch that. I don't know 20 people that I like. Same thing though really.


Don't I look excited?

Our tech comes in & she's nice. And patient, since our baby wasn't into this whole "ultrasound" idea. Like my previous womb dwellers, this one loves to face my back, cuddling my placenta.

Isn't that a nice mental image?

I was in every possible position, minus stand on my head, & the kid wasn't into the idea. I drank water. Kid still wasn't really into it. Moved arund, but nothing that amazing.

Finally, the tech says to get up & walk around for a few minutes, then said she was "90% sure" she already saw it's genitals, but didn't want t say until she was 100%, which she should be able to see when we tried again.

Now, in my head there is either a penis or not. Really the only times I've heard people get percents were in cases of a girl, just so they could be be sure to see girl parts instead of just assume they didn't see boy parts, so it's a girl. So I was thinking I had a set of ovaries in my belly as opposed to a set of testicles.

As usual, I was wrong. She started again & there, glowing in all it's glory, was a tiny penis. Having 3 penis in my belly in a row, I know what a penis looks like in there. They seriously seem to glow, it's weird. Adam then says, "I thought I told you I'd already seen it?" which he didn't.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not disappointed, but at that point I'm horrified because we dried the baby boy name well up last time around. Joel wasn't decided on until like 39 weeks. He was almost Heath, which I'm happy we didn't go with.

What other winners did we consider?

Well, there was Jackson. And Dane. And Sawyer, which I really liked but it just sounds dirty with our last name. Preston, which I liked but I knew it was bad when my mom liked it as well, love it even. Of course, then we hit rock bottom. Oh yeah, it got worse than Dane. We seriously considered naming our son Rourke. Yes, Rourke. I was actually into it, until I realized that was the sound a seal made. And the sound a drunk makes as they puke at 4am right after that always fun drunk dial.

So yeah, horror filled me for this poor child inside of me.

But with this whole Conan O'Brien drama going on, the kid could always get stuck with Conan. And if you don't know the Conan drama, I'm not going to bother to link you to any of it. If you don't know already, you must live under a rock & I'm not sure how you're even reading this considering I don't think you can get internet access under rocks.

Back to the story though. I moved on, looking at this child inside of me, which I really enjoyed.

First, there was this picture.


I'm convinced that he looks as though he's mocking someone for being a cry baby. This child, he's got my meanness. Awesome.

Then there is this one.


Why? Because it reminds me of this.


That was the episode of Conan we went to live, so I'm going to pretend the baby sucked up some of his spirit. Oh yeah, Jay Leno can fuck off. Just a side note.

But otherwise, he's just a normal baby.


Besides his obvious awesomeness, of course.

After that adventure, we went to Dave & Busters, just because. And when I say just because, I mean because we've never been to one because we don't have them here.

While there, we had this gross looking appetizer.


But once I got over the baby poop, cat puke look of it, they were pretty good.

We had good, which they got wrong. As usual with any place I go. And no, I'm not complicated, I just don't want garlic potatoes because I don't want to die. You'd think substituting one side for another wouldn't be too hard.

Didn't matter though, knowing that he had no "x" chromosomes to pass onto our children made him feel manly.


After that disappointment, we hit the arcade.

I whacked moles.


Adam takes bad pictures.

He played Rambo, to confirm his manliness.


Then we won a bunch of tickets.



With those, we got like a ring pop.

Finally, we hit the road. Only to stop again.


I wanted a coke, Adam wanted some coffee. I also got cookies, after which I discovered I hate sweets now. Thanks, Piccadilly.

On the trip home we talked about random things, including names. Finally, I pulled "Blair" out of my ass & liked it. Of course, isn't anything better than Rourke?

After some discussion, we have decided on Blair Owen. No real reason, we just like it. My mom, of course, hates it. I think that's why Adam likes it now. My mother, on the other hand, is holding out hope for Cheyenne. Yes, for a boy.

I was wrong, not everything is better than Rourke.


  1. OMG you guys have Tim Hortons there? That is like the best coffee place in the freakin world.

    I love the name. congrats again.

  2. That room fits 20!? Must be bigger IRL. Cheyenne for a BOY! You've got to be kidding me.....



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