The Father Moobs blogs were originally posted in 2014 and 2015 on fathermoobs.com, a now defunct website where Dani (my wife) and I processed the upcoming arrival of our first baby. This series was called Moob & Boob, where we each wrote our own perspective on the same topic:
The day started out full of energy with the excitement of my best friend’s upcoming wedding in full force. Unfortunately, my PMS was putting a damper on my desire to buzz about the city with Matt to buy wedding supplies.
I always whine to Matt when I’m cramping and tell him how awful it is to be a woman. He usually buys me chocolate or cleans the house which magically makes me feel better. This time Matt wasn’t buying it though. “You told me you were gonna get your period last week,” he said.
I pulled up my phone calendar to prove him wrong which backfired. For once he was right, I was supposed to get it last week. I told him it must be a fluke and reminded him how we’d been too busy to “do like they do on the discovery channel.” Plus we decided to wait until the fall to start trying.
A spark of hope flickered in his eyes as he announced shopping was over and that we needed to get home and take a pregnancy test. I told him it was a waste of money and I was positive I was getting my period any minute.
We got home and I humored him by peeing on a stick. I was so sure I wasn’t pregnant that I left him in the bathroom tenderly holding my pee stick. Two minutes of intense silence were shattered as he erupted out of the bathroom yelling “we’re pregnant, babe we’re pregnant!”
I’m tempted to tell you how I began to jump up and down and see visions of rainbows and fluffy kittens but that would be a lie. Please tell me I’m not the only one who has had this initial reaction: First, my face distorted in horror and then I fell to my knees as I grabbed the pee stick out of his hands. I looked at it in disbelief. How could this happen? The plan was September at the earliest. I am a planner. I always stick to the plan!
It may seem like a few months shouldn’t make much difference but if you think like that than you’re not a planner. Despite my initial despair, Matt’s excitement was contagious and after about 20 minutes I had composed myself and was warming up to the idea. By the time we got into the car to tell our families I was pretty excited as well.
I looked over at Matt and laughed. I told him that his glowing face made it look like he was the one carrying our child, and I said I was pretty sure he was going to gain lots of sympathy weight and be very emotional the whole pregnancy. He happily agreed. But his goofy expression somehow gave me the assurance that no matter what kind of crazy adventure was to come we were definitely in it together.
First off, don’t listen to Dani.
She’ll tell you we got pregnant by surprise.
Well, maybe, but only cause I’m a wizard at psychology.
See, here’s how it happened:
We went shopping one Monday afternoon for bow-ties and suspenders and scrapbook stickers for my lil’ sister’s impending wedding. I was moaning about it because my sister was getting all the attention. I pointed that out to Dani over lunch and she stroked my hand and told me I was being a turd.
So we kept on shopping for bow-ties and we ended up finding them. After that we went to one of those girly craft stores, Michael’s or Jo-Anne’s or someplace awful. Real men probably don’t know this but those fabric stores only have one checkout line! It’s absolutely diabolical – the way that line winds back and forth for miles and miles, like an international airport terminal. I think it’s just so they can show you extra packets of stickers you might want to buy.
Finally a plain faced girl rang us through but she insisted on taking our email address for coupons. Dani gave her mine so I pinched her.
Anyway, this is where the story gets good. We loaded the car with crappy things and drove away. At the first red light Dani says: “I should get my period any day now.” She tells me stuff like that. But here’s something you should know about my wife: she only has a 48 hour window of memory (which is great three days after I do something dumb). But in this situation it was better than great. It was a moment where you slam on the brakes even though you’re already stopped!
“Babe,” I said, “You told me that LAST week!”
She cocked her head at me. “I did?”
“Yeah! You did!”
“Noooo,” she pulled out her phone and started scrolling.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m checking the dates.”
“What dates? What do you mean, dates?”
“I wrote down the day when my last period started.”
“You DO that?”
“Yeah. I always do that.”
“Oh hey… you’re right,” she said, “Look. Here. I was supposed to get my period last Wednesday.”
I slammed the brakes even harder. We lurched forward at the stoplight. I remember right where we were, still in view of that lame old craft store. I felt the adrenaline shooting down my arms and I started saying a bunch of nonsense phrases like: “But you’re never late…,” “…you mean we could be…,” “…but wasn’t I out of town then?”
I started speeding toward the apartment. I knew there was a pregnancy test beneath the bathroom sink. We bought it a month earlier when we were “trying” but we never used it because “trying” only lasted one week. After that Dani decided she didn’t want to get pregnant yet. I found this out when she brought home a box of condoms.
I said, “NEVER!”
She said, “ALWAYS.”
Well. This is where my psychological wizardry came in handy. First we had long talk. We agreed we both still wanted a baby. But Dani wanted to wait till after my sister’s wedding. “Wedding, schmedding.” I told her. Which was a good point, but she didn’t see it that way.
So I challenged her to a duel of wits. And she accepted.
We made a deal that anytime we were about to have sex we would play Paper/Rock/Scissors, best out of three. If I won we’d have sex my way; if she won we’d use a condom.
Dear friends, that game was my crowning life achievement. I never lost. Not once. That’s why I knew right there at that stoplight, still escaping that blasted craft store, that MiniMoob was on the way!