You know your life has changed when you are sitting outside a hospital and your wife is inside at a lactation support group discussing mamory glands with other women, all of whom have sore nipples. I watched as almost every one of these women was dropped off by tired men in cars. And even though nobody else on the street knew anything about these ladies nipples, I was in on to their little secret. It made me feel sort of guilty that I had this knowledge. But the guilt is currently being overwhelmed by the sleepiness that I feel.

The first week of having a kid, we had a fabulous night system worked out. If it was feeding time, Heather would get up and feed, and I would sleep. If it wasn't feeding time, I would get up and figure out the issue and Heather would sleep. Fortunately for me, Charlie mostly only woke up if it was feeding time, leaving me to enjoy my slumber, while Heather slowly grew more tired and exhausted. It was great. Until this week.

Charlie, you see, has been a very bad boy. We explain to him over and over again the proper way to latch on to Heather's breasts, and yet he seems stubbornly determined to do things his way. And though we have repeatedly lectured him on manners and good behavior, he ignores us completely. Kind of reminds me of my brother (please let that not be true.) So thanks to his shoddy attitude, Heather has had to pump rather than feed, which means I have to feed rather than sleep. Which means I get tired and exhausted and Heather gets some rest. How is that fair?

Last night I got 2 hours sleep. And while getting to feed your kid from a bottle while he stares at you as though you are the king of all yummy milky goodness is a wonderful feeling, the shine has sort of wore off, what with my newfound irrational grumpiness, blackouts, paranoia and brain delirium.

Now I know what you are thinking. "Poor Adam. Heather has it so easy now, and you have it so hard." You are insensitive for thinking that. The truth is, its getting even worse for Heather, because even though she is getting more rest, she is now subjected to the inhuman requirements of a breast pumping machine. They attach to both your boobs and suck for 15 minutes. For that 15 minutes you don't feel sexy. You feel the opposite of sexy, you feel like 1970's vegas Elvis. Heather was used to feeling sexy about 99% of the time, or 1960s Elvis. And now she's having a 4% per day reduction in feeling sexy, all thanks to the little rhythmic noises of a breast pump. But do have pity on me as she gets 4 HOURS OF SLEEP a night, to my 2.

Go to hell, soul & milk sucking machine, go to hell. Nobody messes with my Heather.

Charlie is mad, originally uploaded by Advodude.

We've made it home in one peace, and Charlie's grandparents gave us a 0 birthday BD cake and some champaign to celebrate the occasion. The pediatrician gave him a clean bill of health (other than the jaundice that is clearing up) and Heather seems better as well. I've learned alot in these first 72 hours, and I thought it might be good to share them with you.

Charlie and his Ma, originally uploaded by Advodude.

7lbs 5oz, 19 inches long, born on June 30th, 2008 at 3:20pm.

He finally has a name. We're saving Jack Indiana for the next one. He just seems to look like a Charlie. Mellow and stuff. He eats like a pig. He's got a weird red eyelid thing called "angel kisses" that dissipates over the course of the year. He's very calm and as long as you give him what he wants, he happily stays quiet. He has Heather's strangely deformed ears. And he makes me extremely tired and happy. We get out of the hospital tomorrow after he gets some sort of treatment for a jaundice issue. Then he and Apollo meet. That should be interesting.

Sleep now.

I was pretty stoked last night to get my final round of sleeping in until I'm 50. Unfortunately, thoughts about my impending life change kept me up, and I tossed and turned until 6:30 am and then gave up. Hilarious.

My life is about to change forever, and about a billion things are going through my head. Will he be a happy kid? Will I screw him up? Will he like the same things I like? Will he hate the same things I hate? Will he be grateful or embarrassed that we didn't get him circumcised? Will he be a momma's boy? Will he be a jock? Will he get lucky, and get the genes from Heather's dad and my Dad's side of the family and be taller than me? Will he be a douchey teen? Will I screw him up? Will he be smart? Irretrievably Stupid?Will he get the Mordecai competitive gene and have to beat everyone at every game he plays? Will he be a good sport? Will he be a charmer with the ladies? Or the men? Will he turn into Alex P. Keaton? Will I screw him up? Will he be president?

There's about a billion more of those that I'll spare you from hearing, but I take consolation in one fact. My brother, whom growing up I thought to be a degenerate pain in my ass, has not only become a really well functioning adult, he has managed to be an awesome dad to the most adorable little girl in the world. Surely, if a guy who shoved peas up his nose as a kid, and missed out on an NBA all-star game because he refused to do one simple chore (seriously, at age 10, all he had to do was do the dishes, with help from the rest of the family, and he would be flown to NC to meet Charles Barkley, but he refused on the principal that he just didn't want to) can be an awesome dad, then there is possibly hope for me.

I'm gonna go not sleep now. I'll keep you posted tomorrow as I can. 6am we start. Good times.

The OB appointment went fine yesterday. No change in status. The Kid ain't coming out without a fight. So we're inducing at 6:00 am on Monday.

I'm gonna attempt to twitter the whole thing (if heather doesn't kill me first) so if you want updates over text message on your phone, setup an account at Twitter.com and follow me and set my account to send you device updates. Then you can get the play by play of the whole thing.

I think things are about to change around here.

We've given up. We now accept the fact that our child will not come out unless he is forced out. June 26th is his due date. June 30th is when we evict him if he won't come out. Some people have emailed me and asked if there is anything else we need. We've definitely been covered. Between the showers, the packages, the everything everyone has been so generous with, we are totally setup.

However, there are items that Heather won't allow me to purchase, but that I feel our baby desperately needs. So if you really want to help out my baby, you can buy him this, or this, or my personal favorite, this.

My future comedian thanks you. 56 W. 3rd Ave, 80223.

I hate waiting. There's been no change in Heather's status, and her doctor explained that apparently, "He just really wants to stay in there."

And so we wait. A personal observation: the 9th month is for suckers.

Went to the doc today and got the weekly checkup. Heather is now 3cm dilated and still 80% effaced. She is not in labor. Fun fact: You can be up to 6cm dilated and still not go into labor. So now we wait. We've tried the spicy food. We've tried the black licorice. Nothing will make the little bugger come out.So we wait.

So in the interim, if we are to be miserable, so should you. Here are 3 horrifyingly gross facts about pregnancy that nobody tells you about in movies.

The Mucus Plug - This is a sign of oncoming labor. It's a gooey pond of mucus that acts as a stopper in the months leading up to labor. When it comes out, the baby is on its way.

The Bloody Show - There's a big spout of blood that comes out of a lady prior to labor as well. There's a fake bloody show that's brown and a false indicator of labor and then theres the real one that's pink. Either way, goo.

and finally, the one you've probably never realized existed unless you've already got kids...

The Placenta Birth - In every TV show and every movie, it ends with the happy mom with the child in her arms, crying with excitement at the birth of her new offspring. But tragically, this is not how labor ends. After the baby is born, the mother has to keep pushing, and generally, 5 minutes to an hour later, she gives birth to the organ she grew in her body just for that kid. The placenta detaches from the uterine wall and is expelled. She actually delivers the placenta.

So here's a video of it to gross you out. This one goes out to all of you who rigged the name my kid vote in Emmet's favor.

Watching this baby slowly grow has been an experience to say the least. Lately, it has reminded me of the movie Aliens, when the little bastard shoots out of the guys belly. Heather's stomach has been undulating in very creepy creepy ways.

I searched for an example on youtube, and apparently, everyone else had the same idea. Glad to know I'm not alone.

Things are moving along nicely at chateau Mordecai. Heather is slowly growing fuller with each day, and Cletus, running out of room in his hotel, has been forced to kick so I can feel it due to his not having any room to move. I win this round. Your move, Cletus, your move. (Have to instill that unhealthy Mordecai competitive streak early.)

Our house has been a slight madhouse, with a constant flow of extremely helpful visitors. First, Kristina and Ryan threw us an awesome baby shower, and at said baby shower we received the most practical and awesome gift from Mr. Preston Dyches..

A home exorcism kit. Comes complete with Cross, Holy Water, Rosary Beads, and Mini-Bible with the important parts underlined and highlighted for the time when your special young child starts barfing pee soup at you and floats above the bed. We scored the motherload and offer thanks to everyone who came. (Thank you notes forthcoming.

The weekend of the shower, Jo came to town to help us paint Cletus's room. The room formally was my patriotic Blue office, which has now been relocated all over the house, along with all my stuff (most of it went to the basement storage room.) We decided to use the blue as a base and paint fun colorful doohickeys all over the room, adding stars and clouds and making it sort of a sky. We started with a cow jumping over the moon that we found on the internets and went from there.

Additionally, I used to have 2 huge shelves of DVD's which had to be unmounted and left 8 giant holes in one of the walls. To cover it up, I came up with the idea of painting a fleet of spaceships with aliens over them. Heather thought I was insane and suggested that I would be the one who would have to come up with the art. And so I did.

Jo also painted some cool little monsters to hang on another wall. Between all of us, we got the concept going. Jo and Heather did all the painting and heavy lifting. I contributed chalk drawings of the spaceships and the non-threatening and completely not scary to a toddler aliens. (I hope I don't turn him into too big of a geek too early.) Next up, building all the furniture...