Confessions of a Pregnant-Loving 'Aholic

Wow - 1003 hits to the site in two months....see Kris, people obviously love guys in tight jeans! And last I checked, the TJA consisted of no Catholic priests or schoolboys.

Well after 8 months, my wife's basketball is almost fully inflated.... and seriously, that tummy can't be aerodynamic for walking! As of today, we're only 3.5 weeks from the due date. Is it weird that some of my friends have recently sent texts asking "you do realize you're doing to be a dad?" Of course I do...I've already got a carseat in the boat, a tie-down in the bed of my truck, and his first .22 rifle under the crib. That kid is more prepared than Suber with his mom's credit card.

Big news on the P-doo (a.k.a. "Price"): Singing 80's light rock to the kiddo actually worked! As of last week, he's headed for daylight. In doctor terms, he "flipped." On top of that, Kristen's measuring a-okay for an on-time delivery...despite the fact that she's desperately searching for a pitocin-redbull to get that boy into the world early.

And with regards to my sexy pregnant vixen, she's hanging in there. Yes, she grunts each time she moves. Yes, she no longer believes in sleep. Yes, she demands that I give her a back rub anytime she finds me hiding. Yes, she's found a way to get the "honey-do" list even longer. And yes, I've learned that confrontation can easily result in pain for me. But what can I say - that chick rocks more than American Idol....oh no, did I just confess to watching that tonight? I must now apologize to my inner-self...

Other things I must confess this week....time to get it off my chest:

1. Friday nights are no longer about bourbon and karaoke...they are now used to install ceiling fans and curtains.

2. My version of masculinity is defined through "yeah, his swing is polka dots, but it's blue AND brown polka dots"

3. Where are my Sigma Nu beer mugs, and why are all these bottles in my kitchen?

4. Yeah, it's a 2006 Chevy Silverado...with a Z-71 suspension...with a 6.0L V8...with 285 All-Terrains tires...with a sweet new edition of the Chico carseat in the back...so?

5. Every cell phone conversation with my wife now starts "Are you in labor?" - "No" - "Okay, I'm working, I'll call you back"

As far as I can tell, I think I'm a grown-up now. Oh no - someone please hold me. Thank goodness for a bachelor party in May...time to rekindle Frank-the-Tank. Inappropriate to bring Price along?

Last, I recently realized I'm having an early-life crisis. Indeed, I've always been a compulsive idiot. However, I think I've outdone myself this time. Last month, I read INTO THIN AIR. So instead of flying, sky-diving, or making a baby, I thought it a great idea to climb Mount Everest.

But believe it or not, I'm not quite yet qualified for that venture. Therefore, I've decided to start with Kilimanjaro next spring. Yes, I know....20,000 feet and 6-days of climbing in Africa for a boy with his largest accomplishment being riding the elevator at Chimney Rock...but man, I got some sweet pictures up there!

So if you've got nothing going on early 2010, join me in the Serengeti for another addition to my drunken-founded bucket list. My son is doomed with me as dad, right?

Anyway, here's a few pictures of our nearly completed nursery...and yes honey, the stripes turned out great...despite the fact this statement rips up my man-card.

Until next time,

Doc Semi and his 12 (Ever-growing baby!) Denim Dwarfs

"All hail the bung king!"

Yeah, yeah...my apologies on the slow update. Kristen has me busier than Uncle Jesse with an Olsen twin these days. Needless to say, my own life is now a combination of Home Improvement and Flip This House. Oh no, did I just reference an HGTV show on my own?...

Anyway...it recently dawned on me that March is the last month before Price enters the world. As exciting as that is, there's also pure terror running through my stubby typing fingers! In only six weeks my wife will use the dirtiest word on me...responsibility. That is about as scary as Bee93.Suttles repeat-playing Joey Amos' favorite band.

With the drastic changes coming to the Miller household, I was recently presented with only one logical decision: GUYS WEEKEND. Therefore, last Friday I made my way to the frozen tundra to hang with an old buddy, David Suttles. Isn't it ironic that Mr. Suttles also wears his jeans so tight he can't get his cell phone out when it rings? I think he might have an honorary place with the TJA...

Speaking of the TJA, here's a little shout out to the 4 new members who've joined the most elite denim fraternity in the ultraverse. At the pace we're growing, my screen-printer is going to run out of ink....well, okay, so we're only at seven. Kelli, can you please hit the recruiting trail for some 5-Star followers? Maybe even this guy?

While in Wisconsin, I learned much about myself. First, I realized that I'm approaching 30 years old. I say this because no longer do I compare how many beers I can drink, but rather the size of my wife's pregnant belly to other friends' wives. Second, I found I still love beer...however, it no longer respects me back. After stumbling through two breweries, scaring opposing coaches at a hockey game, and hosting my own bachelor party all over, I was paid back with a nice nap on the floor. Oh, I miss the old days where my body didn't insist on taking a 1 day recovery OSHA break.

Speaking to that last point, is it strange that as I held up a wooden keg plug like Big Ern McCracken, a group of crazy Wisconsinites would scream, "All hail the bung king!" I feel my wife's eyes burning into me now!

But enough about me. As of tonight, Kristen is 34.5 weeks pregnant. And before you ask, yes, she's adorable. My little sugar-momma and her soccer ball tummy are as spectacular as the finale of Space Camp...and don't lie, you know you still love that movie. Unfortunately, Price is still finding himself in the breech position. For those not familiar, my little stud isn't quite ready to flip upside down for the final countdown.

While we hope that he turns around on his own shortly, Kristen and I are taking a proactive approach to the situation. Not only are we grounding him, but he's not going to the Middle School Dance either. Sorry Price, you will not get to hear Sam Bigsby unleash "Lean On Me" to the crowd.

On top of those measures, Kristen and I have also begun singing him motivation on a nightly basis. While some books suggest nursery rhymes and soft ballads, we've resorted to Bonnie Taylor and Total Eclipse of the Heart....it only seems appropriate...."turn around." Keep your fingers crossed for us.

So that's it for now, but we'll keep you posted here in the next few days. Until then, stay classy San Diego.

Yours truly,

The Bung King and the Seven Brewing Dwarfs.