Presenting Our Baby Jane

Our Grandbaby Jane

In 1962, an American film about two not aging well has-been actresses, starring two not aging well leading ladies whose collective celebrity had long since gone the way of, oh I don't know, the Titanic, was foisted on the public. The two leading ladies? Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, just a couple of broads who detested each other, both of whom would later be remembered for their highly questionable approach to motherhood. The movie, you ask?

Whatever Happened to Baby Jane

If you've not seen it, you need to. It is a tour de force in scenery chewing. Seriously, it's an 11 on the over-the-top meter. We're talking DefCon 5, but seeing a completely nutty Bette Davis still thinking she's her child star alter ego, Baby Jane, is pretty funny stuff. Her Jane is a train wreck.

That's scary.

See what I mean? She a mess.

So why the 'Baby Jane' references? Because we now have our own Jane and she is perfect!

Our granddaughter was born yesterday, October 16th, entering the world just before 1PM, weighing 8 lbs., 3 oz., and measuring 19 inches long. She came in a pound lighter and two inches shorter than her brother, so the delivery for her mother, Our Lady Of Awesome, was a whole lot easier (spoken like a man who A) was not even there and B) has never experienced childbirth, so my editorializing is 100% worthless).  Our sweet Jane also came into the world with a whole lot more hair than her brother did. She came into this world with three generations of mothers waiting for her: her mother, her grandmother, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML, and her great-grandmother. Although she won't remember it, Jane has been already been so richly blessed by having the three of them in the room as she was born. These amazing women will be Jane's examples, support and they will love her fiercely. Also waiting right there was her father. He will be her protector, her shoulder to cry on, and he will love her just as fiercely. Jane's brother, at two years and change, seems pretty fine with her arrival. He will soon wonder why she can't play with him yet and why he is not allowed to push the baby swing like it's a battering ram (this may take some delicate negotiating on the part of his parents). He'll soon be the one to not let any bully mess with his sister. He will love her fiercely.

I won't get to meet our sweet Jane for another two weeks (curse you, stupid, stupid work commitments!). For her, though, that's probably for the best. Let her get adjusted to this new world before Grandpa shows up, crying uncontrollably at the sight of his new granddaughter (the crying is a lock, so why pretend it's not going to happen?). Also, since 'indoor voices' is a concept I'm not a big fan of, at least she'll have had two weeks preparation before I turn up.

In the meantime, I'll just revel in pictures like these that are coming fast and furious:

Mother and daughter,
heart to heart

Sweet Jane, working the Utah do' rag

Welcome, sweet Jane, to our family. We are so glad you are here. Our joy is overflowing!

Labor

@simpsons.wikia.com

Let's talk briefly about labor. Not the labor associated with Labor Day, rather the labor that precedes the birth of a baby.

My firstborn, Our Lady of Awesome, is due to deliver her second baby in the next few days. The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I will become grandparents for the second time. Suffice to say, we are excited. SML has already made her way to the Zion Curtain and will be there when the baby arrives.

It seems only appropriate that mother and daughter are together during this most momentous event. To call it a shared experience seems like a bit of an understatement. I remember being at my wife's side as she went into labor at the Utah Valley Regional Birthing Bonanza for the first time when she delivered our first-born daughter. I had never seen such strength (it put any moment of male strength to shame), nor had I seen such immediate radiant love the moment that little girl was placed in her arms. That moment confirmed what kind of a mother she would be and I knew she would be there for her daughter and the other children that would come and she has been. She'll be there to share some of that strength she mustered all those years ago when she labored to deliver the daughter she'll be supporting in just a couple of days. They will share that strength.

"There is a secret in our culture, and it's not that birth is painful.

It's that women are strong." - Laura Stavoe Harm

That strength is amazing. It is inspiring. It binds mother and child. It is love. It is incredible.

Brevity

Bandera de Mexico Man

Sometimes a paucity of words can be a good thing. Sometimes when someone is brief, it's nothing to get worked up about. A brevity of words doesn't have to mean someone is getting rude. It can just be that the message needs to be concise. Why bury something in a whole lot of subterfuge?

Apparently, brevity was the theme of this week's letter from TMFKATB. He wasted no time in getting to the point of his letter:

I am super happy!

There wasn't a lot more to his letter than that. A couple of informational updates on some of the people he's working with and the random fact that he's going to be building a basement this week constituted the whole of this week's download.

I'm not complaining at all. As his dad, knowing he's happy is all I need. He's happy teaching people. He's happy building basements. He's happy in the heat of an Indian summer.

In the end, isn't that what we want for one another? That we're happy.

Very little is needed to make a happy life;

it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking.

Marcus Aurelius

As a final note on happiness, take a look at the video TMFAKTB sent from a Fiesta de las Americas he attended. The kid in the hat will make you smile.

#editing

Where was everyone's favorite editor and pilot of
a balloon-propelled house on Friday night?

This past Friday night, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I found ourselves in front of the television, in a most Norman Rockwellian manner, watching a program that wasn't being DVR'ed. We were actually watching it at its regularly scheduled time. What show, you ask? The Amazing Race, thank you very much. We are long time 'Race' fans and since it's been relegated to TV's graveyard, Friday night, we try to watch it at the appointed hour as much as possible. As we watched this latest episode, I took to the Twitters to make an snarky comment observation about one of the racers. In said tweet, I pointed out that the racer was this season's tool. It quickly got a few favorites and retweets and that was that. On Saturday, I noticed someone had responded to my Tweet and made an even snarky remark about the tool/racer and by later that day, I had inadvertently gotten into a loop of Tweets involving three of the current season's racers, including one who has already been very vocal about his dislike of the guy I had referenced. He wanted to point out that everyone was cool and that it was all #editing.

Of course it's editing. The masterminds behind this show, and pretty much any other reality show, know exactly how to manipulate their audiences through all manner of tools, but in reality programming, editing is a 'killer' app. Editing turns a nice guy into a tool. Editing turns a stumble into a disaster of epic proportions. Editing turns the Kardashians into decent people...wait, I have to stop there. No editing software, nor an editor with all the experience in the world, even the great 'Lou Grant' could do that.

This little Twitter kerfuffle got me to thinking about the concept of editing and the role it plays here in the Den. The point of editing is to correct, condense and organize a work so that you deliver a consistent, complete, and accurate work. It also helps that it's something people want to read / see / hear, etc.. As the writer and editor of this little piece of real estate on the interwebs, I endeavor to deliver a 'warts and all' view of my life. I mean I've subjected you to my gout, my gall bladder surgery and enough tales about the travails of middle-aged physicals to give any one thinking of medical school about 189 reasons to rethink their career choices. I've been upfront about those moments when I've not been the greatest husband and where I'm not winning #fatheroftheyear too. Does that mean I've told all? Heck no, techno. Just like the editors on any good reality program, I can cut things as needed and I do. Seriously, I do (although I'll just go ahead and apologize now for the fact that I have a physical at the end of this month so there will be some kind of overshare coming).

Personal blogging is a funny thing. You are inviting the world into your life. I'm not in it for an opportunity to make money; hence no sponsored posts or ads. Nor am I in it to promote an agenda (take it easy, my Mittite friends). I'm not here to portray a life where everything is sunshine and roses. So why do I do it? I'm realizing more and more that I'm a storyteller and this place is where I choose to tell / share those stories.

I said that I'm not here to portray a life where everything is sunshine and roses. That's not my life. But  it's a pretty darn good life, no matter how it's edited. I may not have the irascible Lou Grant as an editor, but I'm going to continue to do my best to deliver on tales from that life.