Nope, no baby. Still no baby. No, I’m not a dad yet.

That’s what it’s like to be me. Say that over and over again to every person you know and you might start to understand. But you won’t.

I’ve come to realize that waiting for a baby to be born sucks. There’s no way around that. It’s the only event that will completely change your life upside down that you prepare for and know is coming but you have no idea when it will actually happen.

Marriage you plan for. It changes everything, but you at least get to pick the bloody date.

You can’t plan for death, but you also don’t know it’s coming. Usually.

But a baby? This one event will change my life drastically in a poopy diaper real sort of way. Finding out we were pregnant certainly changed things, but I wasn’t suddenly dealing with a wailing child. When the baby’s born that’s what we get. Until then it’s silent. And we wait.

Others have talked about waiting. But I don’t think it’s the same. Knowing something is imminent but not knowing exactly when. I tell you, it does something to my calendar-driven, punctual life. Sure they give you a due date, but then they say plus or minus two weeks. That’s a one-month window. And it’s only guess work anyway. A one-month window is a pretty damn big window.

I guess I’m not very patient either. I’m the kind of guy who likes to think about how much he can accomplish in a certain amount of time, get as much done before the trip as possible, be productive so I can sit back and feel good about myself. Well I can tell you I’ve given up thinking about how much I can get done before the baby comes a long time ago. I’ve been through two or three cycles of that and there’s always more to do, and I end up just wondering when the heck that baby is going to come.

How about tomorrow? I like January 25.