September 2, 2015

When my Boys ask me at some point whether or not me and their Mother love them, my answer will be very clear.  I will tell them that we love them more than most parents love their children.  About $50,000 more in fact. And of course they’re worth every penny.

In all honesty, the fact that Arthur and Charles are here is just as amazing that Saved By The Bell; The New Class ran for seven seasons. It would never have happened if it wasn’t for the most determined woman I know; their Mother.


(Seven seasons?  I realized Kelly Kapowski wasn’t coming back by Season 3 and stopped watching)

My wife and I didn’t have our kids the traditional way.  We went through IVF, which will lead to an awkward explanation in years to come when my sons ask me where babies come from.  “You see guys, when a man and a women love one another, they cash in a 10 Year IRA and work with a dozen men and women wearing lab coats….”

Everyone has their own pregnancy journey.  Our journey was exhausting and expensive.  It caused my wife and I to look at people who had babies through the natural process and bitterly comment, “Look at those people with their FREE babies.”

All I know is that if it wasn’t for my wife’s unwavering dedication we wouldn’t have two wonderfully weepy bundles of joy.  She and I are a perfect match.  I’m incredibly lazy and she’s not.  She winds up putting in the lion share of the work on all of our projects and takes me along for a ride that I often have the audacity to complain about.  And this project was the Manhattan Project of babies.  They’re not nuclear babies.  It was just an epic project.


(Nuclear Babies have no sense of humor)

Faced with poor odds, she decided she would do everything possible to make a baby happen.  And I decided I would watch her do that and hope that it didn’t interfere with watching playoff football.  I’m still in awe of everything she did and all that she sacrificed over more than a year just to get pregnant.  Especially considering what I did. Let’s compare.


  • Gave up unhealthy food
  • Gave up booze
  • Took roughly 78 different vitamins a day
  • Gave herself uterine massages three times a day (basically a complicated stomach massage to align everything that takes about 20 minutes)
  • Drank some green shake three times a day that looked and smelled really gross
  • Took all sorts of hormonal medication
  • Injected herself in the stomach and ass with needles
  • Moved to a pregnancy diet filled with foods she didn’t like
  • Went to pregnancy yoga class everyday
  • Did more than a dozen things aside from what I’ve listed that I didn’t bother to ask about

I can’t begin to cover all the things she did in less than 10,000 words.  She worked non stop every minute of the day. What did I do?

  • ???

OK, I helped every now and then with the uterine massages and gave her injections that I actually complained about having to give her, if you can imagine that.  That’s kind of like being the guy holding the gun at a firing squad saying to the person about to be shot, “You know this trigger pinches my finger and kind of smarts.”


(I’m pretty sure I was also complaining about having to give this shot during the 4th Quarter of the Patriots Divisional Playoff Game. Remind me to ask my wife who took this intimate photo of us.)

All in all I’d have to say my sacrifices amounted to eating Big Mac Meals in my car and hiding my liquor in a Denny’s Mug out of respect.

Danielle went through this process not just for a few months but for over a year spanning three cycles to “harvest” eggs.  And our harvests weren’t particularly plentiful.  After all that work we got two fertilized eggs.  TWO!!!  For what we were paying they may as well been Faberge Eggs.


(Faberge Eggs are even more valuable than the ones made by Cadbury)

BUT, because Danielle had put in this herculean effort to get healthy, when our eggs were squirted in, both of them found themselves in the uterine equivalent of a Penthouse Suite.  No wonder they cried when they were born.  The outside world couldn’t have been nearly as plush and fancy as the one my wife created for them.

And even though she put in 99.9% of the work, she still shares them with me.  It’s like she spent two years making the perfect $50,000 grilled cheese, cut it diagonally (cause it’s always classier to cut it that way) and I just came over and took half of it without even thanking her.  That’s why I’m thanking her now.

I don’t want to sound too sappy but I’m giving my wife a pass on giving me any gifts for the rest of my life.  I think giving me the Boys has her covered.  And every time they give me three pine cones glued together from a half-assed kindergarten project, or hand me a drawing that has me looking at it wondering what demonic influence inspired it, they will be gifts she gets to take credit for as well.

Of course she does like to give gifts, so if you see her can you let her know that I need new golf clubs?  Thanks!!

Least Favorite Child Results

August 31 – Least Favorite was Charles.  It’s the same old story.  Cranky baby wins the day.  I’ll probably find out that there’s a pin that’s been lodged in his diaper for the past month causing this and have to go back and figure all these days out all over again.

September 1 – It’s a tie.  A day that my wife and I were hoping would never come arrived.  They were both assholes.  When Arthur and Charles both commit to being unhappy babies at the same time, it makes me think about finding all those people who see that we have twins and say, “You’re doubly blessed” and give them my scariest disapproving look.  Or better yet, my wife’s scariest disapproving look.

Total Days as Least Favorite Child

Charles – 39 Days

Arthur – 36 Days

Tied as Least Favorite – 1 Day

Days Since Neil Patrick Harris Received My Post and Hasn’t Responded – 50


Here’s Neil rocking it like a boss on Hump Day