Follow me on my redonkulous journey through this thing called life. Have a laugh or two, read a story, or just catch up with whats new in the Dunkley household.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
13 Weeks 4 Days
This afternoon we got to see the first images of our little parasite. I was surprised at how much the little guy (no we don't know that for sure, I'm still kind of insisting) moved about. He was waving his arms around like Michael Jackson in his prime, and I'm pretty sure I saw a summersault; Nicole thinks it was just the scanner-thingy moving. I think he was practicing kung-fu.
So above, you can see the entire baby. Below is a close up of his face (from the side, and looking up if you cannot make it out). You can pretty clearly see his nose and chin, and maybe a little of his mouth. Pretty wild!
Oh, and if you look closely, you can make out a beard; obviously it’s a boy ;)
(Click the images to see them bigger)
Friday, April 16, 2010
To my Mom
I’m in an interesting place in my life right now. With the baby on the way I’m suddenly faced with a horrifying fact; I need to grow up, just a little bit, and be an adult. So I’ve been going over our bills and spending, I just refinanced our mortgage, and I’m looking at our finances with more detail than ever before. I’ve always taken a rather lazy approach to such matters, always relying on luck that something would come up and save our collective asses at the last hour. Now, I’m faced with the daunting task of completely supporting another life; it’s time to get serious.
I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot the past couple months. Seeing what Nicole is going through has me wondering at what my mom went through with me. I wonder if I made her feel like dog poo for nine months; I asked, and she claims it was not that bad, but her memory is about as reliable as mine.
Then there is the whole childhood thing. I was a rotten little brat. I opened my presents at Christmas time with an exact-o knife, and then resealed them so that I could act surprised on Christmas morning. I tortured my sister. Every time I was asked to clean my room I acted liked she had asked for my kidney. I took off whenever possible before the chores could be handed out. Like any other bratty kid, I yelled at her far more than I’d like to admit. And yeah, I know; I can look forward to my kid getting payback for her.
When I was in my early teens, my parents split up. My sister and I lived with my mom. I don’t remember torturing her any less than when she at least had a little help from dad. She worked, full time, and somehow still had time to keep the house spotless with no real help from us. She made sure we were always fed, always had clothes on our backs. She was always there for me when I needed to talk. When I went through a bad bout with depression, she always gave me money to rent a movie on a Saturday night, which made me feel a little better. And she did all this on the salary of a receptionist.
This blows my mind. I’ve got a pretty decent paying job now, and a working wife to help share the burden; but the bills are still a struggle. Mom did this completely by herself. She had no real support system, no one she could talk to; kids don’t realize that grownups (I guess that’s me now!) need someone to talk to, too. No one to help with the chores, not really(Right now, I’m working till 5, and then doing any chores that need doing, because Nicole is not well enough – and I’m TIRED! And my house right now is nowhere near as clean as my mom’s was!). Every month she paid the bills on time, and supported us in every way we needed.
My mom is a damn super hero!
I’m hoping that as a parent, I can do half as much as she did for me. I want my children to have everything; my mom always made sure that we did, so that’s only fair. I once sat on my mom’s bed, late at night after returning from a party, and told her that I had had a drink or two for the first time. That’s how much trust I had in her. Because I always knew she would be there for me. And she still is.
Mom, thanks for being so great. I love you.
I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot the past couple months. Seeing what Nicole is going through has me wondering at what my mom went through with me. I wonder if I made her feel like dog poo for nine months; I asked, and she claims it was not that bad, but her memory is about as reliable as mine.
Then there is the whole childhood thing. I was a rotten little brat. I opened my presents at Christmas time with an exact-o knife, and then resealed them so that I could act surprised on Christmas morning. I tortured my sister. Every time I was asked to clean my room I acted liked she had asked for my kidney. I took off whenever possible before the chores could be handed out. Like any other bratty kid, I yelled at her far more than I’d like to admit. And yeah, I know; I can look forward to my kid getting payback for her.
When I was in my early teens, my parents split up. My sister and I lived with my mom. I don’t remember torturing her any less than when she at least had a little help from dad. She worked, full time, and somehow still had time to keep the house spotless with no real help from us. She made sure we were always fed, always had clothes on our backs. She was always there for me when I needed to talk. When I went through a bad bout with depression, she always gave me money to rent a movie on a Saturday night, which made me feel a little better. And she did all this on the salary of a receptionist.
This blows my mind. I’ve got a pretty decent paying job now, and a working wife to help share the burden; but the bills are still a struggle. Mom did this completely by herself. She had no real support system, no one she could talk to; kids don’t realize that grownups (I guess that’s me now!) need someone to talk to, too. No one to help with the chores, not really(Right now, I’m working till 5, and then doing any chores that need doing, because Nicole is not well enough – and I’m TIRED! And my house right now is nowhere near as clean as my mom’s was!). Every month she paid the bills on time, and supported us in every way we needed.
My mom is a damn super hero!
I’m hoping that as a parent, I can do half as much as she did for me. I want my children to have everything; my mom always made sure that we did, so that’s only fair. I once sat on my mom’s bed, late at night after returning from a party, and told her that I had had a drink or two for the first time. That’s how much trust I had in her. Because I always knew she would be there for me. And she still is.
Mom, thanks for being so great. I love you.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
12 Weeks 4 Days
Ok, so I'm a big nasty slacker, and I have been terrible at slacking in my still relatively new blogging duties. So spank me. Seriously. I'd like that.
But guess what? I have pretty much one of the greatest, non-trumpable excuses ever. My wife is pregnant. Hey, she uses the excuse every time she asks me to get her a snack or has a "headache", so I might as well suckle a bit at the teat of that excuse (Wow -- I've been reading way too many baby books).
So how have the Dunkley's been? I'm pretty sorry to say, things have been miserable. We're both tired and cranky (her for obvious reasons, mine because, well, I'm such a wonderful husband that taking care of the zoo and house and her have me pretty beat; yes, that's a bit of self-pity, and I realise what's she's going through is waaay beyond comparisons, but damn, this is MY blog and I'll bitch if I want to). Nicole is still sick, and the heartburn has not lessened at all. She sleeps ok; when she's not up every hour peeing (yes, already), which is 50-60% of the time. Her appetite is making her hate her favourite foods (Pizza night?? Nooooo! Come back!) and crave items I've never seen her eat in the decade we've been together. It's a wild ride, and we are only now approaching the end of the first trimester.
An old English teacher of mine taught us to always close an article on a positive note, so I did keep the good news for last. We had our first prenatal appointment today (excluding the "I need to stop throwing up", "my tummy hurts", "my stomach burns" and the actual "I think we are pregnant" appointments). Which means, for the first time, I got to hear the sound of my SON'S heartbeat. Pretty neat. I guess the little bugger really is in there, and my wife isn't faking it to get me to do the dishes. Now if only he would stop beating up on his mom so we could enjoy it a little more. Next appointment; in one week we get the first ultrasound. I'm hoping we can once and for all settle the matter that he's a boy, but that's hardly guaranteed this early.
But guess what? I have pretty much one of the greatest, non-trumpable excuses ever. My wife is pregnant. Hey, she uses the excuse every time she asks me to get her a snack or has a "headache", so I might as well suckle a bit at the teat of that excuse (Wow -- I've been reading way too many baby books).
So how have the Dunkley's been? I'm pretty sorry to say, things have been miserable. We're both tired and cranky (her for obvious reasons, mine because, well, I'm such a wonderful husband that taking care of the zoo and house and her have me pretty beat; yes, that's a bit of self-pity, and I realise what's she's going through is waaay beyond comparisons, but damn, this is MY blog and I'll bitch if I want to). Nicole is still sick, and the heartburn has not lessened at all. She sleeps ok; when she's not up every hour peeing (yes, already), which is 50-60% of the time. Her appetite is making her hate her favourite foods (Pizza night?? Nooooo! Come back!) and crave items I've never seen her eat in the decade we've been together. It's a wild ride, and we are only now approaching the end of the first trimester.
An old English teacher of mine taught us to always close an article on a positive note, so I did keep the good news for last. We had our first prenatal appointment today (excluding the "I need to stop throwing up", "my tummy hurts", "my stomach burns" and the actual "I think we are pregnant" appointments). Which means, for the first time, I got to hear the sound of my SON'S heartbeat. Pretty neat. I guess the little bugger really is in there, and my wife isn't faking it to get me to do the dishes. Now if only he would stop beating up on his mom so we could enjoy it a little more. Next appointment; in one week we get the first ultrasound. I'm hoping we can once and for all settle the matter that he's a boy, but that's hardly guaranteed this early.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
A tale of two dogs
So I was fooling around in my word processor, trying to come up with an idea for a story. I wanted something fun, and not really like my usuall works. I glanced over at Bear, my sweet little Rotty, and had a bit of inspiration. Its a day in the life of my two dogs, as if written by my Beagle (I struggled with Bear as the main character but decided she was too dopey to write a story) Heres a little bit:
6:59am
There's light outside, now. I have to pee, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever eat again. I'm sure it's been weeks since the last time we had a meal. Weeks! Bear's awake, but the silly monster is lying on her back, a dazed expression on her face. She's drooling a little bit, too. It must be almost time to-
The bedroom just opened! My sister beats me to our door only by a tail -and a stub of a tail at that. Her tail is at it again, but then mine is a little out of my control too. I don't care; I'm nearly positive that its breakfast time! We hear the bathroom, and mom talking to the cats. The felines are crowded outside our door; they get fed in here, while we go downstairs to eat. Humans have the strangest ideas about these things.
Our door opens, and ohmygodtheresmommy!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Its a small step, but a step nontheless..
I have officially published my first article on an online website. Yup. I reveiwed Mass Effect 2, and the wonderful folks at Associated Content will actually pay me if people read the article. Its just a small pay-per-view site, but its something.
Check it out here and earn me some revenue: Associated Content
Check it out here and earn me some revenue: Associated Content
Friday, March 26, 2010
9 Weeks 6 Days
Well, I guess the countdown to second trimester has begun. Two more weeks, and we get to finally have our first ultrasound, and we get to see the first images of the little squirt that's making mommy's (and daddy's!) life so hard these days. Two weeks, and we can tell our friends, co-workers and family that we haven't already told out of impatience. Two weeks until we enter the "good" trimester, and my wife will feel a little better (Hopefully!). I gotta say, I'm getting pretty excited.
Nicole is doing well today; I talked to her at work, and thought she sounded better. I came home to a wondrous sight; she was smiling! Her words; "[She] feels better than [she] has in a month and a half". The infection is gone, though she's still mighty sleepy. She came down with some pretty bad heartburn (GERN to be more specific)last week that has her mostly miserable; but last night the medicine did the trick, and she had a great sleep. Today, it was like my wife had come home, and boy did I miss her!
She actually admitted talking to the little parasite, using a girl's name we are not actually gonna use (first, it's clearly not a girl, and second, I am not naming my child after alcohol). Call me a sap, but I found myself grinning when she said it; I think that was the first time she talked about him like a person, and a person she was excited to see. Did I mention I'm excited??
So here we go with another weekend. And here's hoping the medicine continues to do its trick, and my wife sticks around a while for a visit.
Nicole is doing well today; I talked to her at work, and thought she sounded better. I came home to a wondrous sight; she was smiling! Her words; "[She] feels better than [she] has in a month and a half". The infection is gone, though she's still mighty sleepy. She came down with some pretty bad heartburn (GERN to be more specific)last week that has her mostly miserable; but last night the medicine did the trick, and she had a great sleep. Today, it was like my wife had come home, and boy did I miss her!
She actually admitted talking to the little parasite, using a girl's name we are not actually gonna use (first, it's clearly not a girl, and second, I am not naming my child after alcohol). Call me a sap, but I found myself grinning when she said it; I think that was the first time she talked about him like a person, and a person she was excited to see. Did I mention I'm excited??
So here we go with another weekend. And here's hoping the medicine continues to do its trick, and my wife sticks around a while for a visit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

