It's A Boy

We went for an elective 3D ultrasound yesterday and we got the great news that we're having a boy! That means there will be another Heller saying inappropriate things he'll regret later on and who will have to defend himself on the subway for bumping into people who are too incompetent to move into the car.

Here's the traditional 2D picture. You're looking at the kid's butt, the u-shape is the two legs. If you look closely right in the middle of the u, you can see an itty bitty tiny little pee pee sticking out there. Just like dad! Nilda asked, "Are those balls?"

I can't say we're surprised. A few weeks ago, Nilda took a home test called the Intelligender that purportedly shows if you're have a boy or girl based on urine. Ours came up ridiculously boy, and Nilda's been preparing for a boy every since. I think it's safe to say she might even be excited about it, though she's weirded out by the fact that there's a penis inside of her. Growing up, it was always Nilda and her mom with her dad, so this will be the first time she's outnumbered by boys. Thank God for that.

The discussion about names has gone into overdrive. "Chloe Sofia Heller," the most adorable name I can think of, is out. Harley pointed out that if the kid's name was Brian, Jr., everyone would call him "B.J." Within 8 hours of finding out the gender, Nilda had figured out the baby's room, from the wallpaper on the accent wall to the furniture.

We also got a 3D picture of the kid. He was hiding his face behind the placenta, so you can't get a look at his face, but at least he was showing us the money shot of his package, so we can't be too upset.

We've been wanting this for a while, but I'm still weirded out. I'm not weirded out that it's a boy, I'm weirded out that it's a kid, and that I'm responsible for it. It just seems like there should be an adult present.

P.S. - Nilda's very pregnant friend went to the Yankees game this weekend and had an O'Doul's with the label off, so that people wouldn't know it was non-alcoholic, saying, "I want people to judge me." Nilda, we are so doing that.

Baby Baby Baby Baby Baby

Nilda is about 14 weeks pregnant and I can finally talk openly about it. It's weird to talk about it since it still seems so tenuous and temporary. Here's some of what's been going on.

• The kid's due date is December 17, so his/her Christmas is pretty much fucked.
• Following the Jewish tradition of naming after those who passed (at least the tradition in my family), we are going to be giving the kid a name that begins with "C," after Nilda's dad, Carlos.
• "C" is a surprisingly difficult letter for a name. It's easier with a girl, but boy names are tough. "Carlos" will make the kid an enigma at Hebrew school, and I'll let you guess why "Christian" doesn't work.
• Yes, we want to know if it's a boy or a girl. I don't understand how people could wait. If you have the ability to know, why would you want to wait until you have to find out? It will be just as much of a surprise now as it will when the kid is here!
• We're convinced it's a boy.
• Nilda has been feeling well. It took a while for her to even feel pregnant, then she started feeling some nausea and her most significant complaint has been headaches. Then there's the mood swings. We were sitting on the sofa and Nilda says, "Oh no, I'm getting sad" and starts bawling for no reason. I know sweetheart, it's a very moving episode of Deadliest Catch.
• We finally have a use for the second bedroom. Nilda saw a t-shirt online that said, "Baby Finally On Board." It was quite appropriate.
• We should still be able to go out for New Years Eve, right? I mean the kid will be two weeks old by then. Yeah, that should be enough time.
• Stella is ridiculously excited, as are my parents.
• My mother cannot keep a secret. We went in for Memorial Day and told my whole family about it at a barbecue. My Uncle Alan says to me, "You know, I already knew Nilda was pregnant. When your parents came over earlier this week, I asked how you guys were. She said, 'Nilda...is...EXCELLENT.'" Good secret keeping, Mom!
• We're excited for you, Baby C. You're gonna love it here. Just don't get poop on the sofa or else Mommy will kill you. Trust me.

My Super Quinceanera

Nilda and I went to her cousin's Quinceanera on Friday night. Since my only prior contact with Quinceaneras had been on My Super Sweet Sixteen, this was an experience. Nilda, as usual, looked absolutely stunning. Here she is in all her pregger glory:

The girl comes out in a ballgown, along with five guys and five girls her age that form the court. I knew to expect this, and the tiara being carried by one of the girls made sense, but I had no clue what the shoes being carried on a pillow were for. Nilda said its so that her father can switch her from flats to heels, because she's a "woman" now. Then she has to sit in a large fan while they force her to watch a video about her childhood. It was a lot like a bat mitzvah.

Then there's a whole choreographed routine by the court. Or as I called it, "Dancing Faux Hawks." They were all really, really good! Even the one who was visibly counting 1-2-3 doing the waltz. During my years on the bar mitvah circuit, guys dancing would be running around and hitting each other. But these kids were moving like they knew what they were doing. I was thoroughly impressed. With Nilda as the mom, there's actually a chance my kid could dance. Imagine that, a Heller that can dance.

The best thing I heard all night was a version of Coldplay's "Clocks" by the Buena Vista Social Club. It's amazing. Give it a shot.

Nilda introduced me to Tio Tivo, Tio Manolo, Tio Roberto and Tio Pititi. Tio Pititi's real name is Orlando, though no one knows how he came to be Pititi. Tio Pititi is the dancing man! This guy was up all night, dancing with every girl in the place! Nilda asked me to dance when the group dancing began, with everyone watching. I will not be the white guy dancing the white guy dance. Go dance with Tio Pititi.

I took Spanish all through high school, got a 4 on the AP Spanish test, and took top level classes taught in Spanish in college, and I still can't understand a thing these people say. I stood up when DJ said to, but no on else did, until he said it in Spanish. Way to stand out, blanco. I've decided I'm going to become Cuban. Like Hemmingway. I'll wear a guyavera on formal occasions.

By the end of the night, I had enough drinks that I could actually try to dance. It wasn't pretty, but by that time everyone else had had enough drinks to not notice. Mauricio, the Dad, and I hugged each other twice before I left, and we'd never met before. I couldn't leave without a picture with Tio Pititi. He's my new hero.

I Went To Another Phish Show

It's time again for Andrew & Brian's Biannual Phish Show. Trey seemed a little hesitant in the first half and was turning every song into Chalkdust, but Page and Mike were on fire and the second set was the best Phish show I've ever seen. It was great, though stopping at the Roy Rodgers on the turnpike on the way home was, surprisingly, not a good idea. We are way too old to go to the second night, though. It's a school night.

I finally get Twitter. I only joined to follow Team Coco ("Green tea is so much better when it's black coffee." "Does anyone know how to get chocolate milk out of an ipad?"). But now I follow a few Phish accounts so I'm up to day on what's happening on the tour by the minute, because Nilda needs to know. One thing I've learned is that some people take Phish way too seriously. But now I can't stop thinking in Phish parlance. "How'd your deposition go?" "The first set was a little choppy, but the second set was smoking."

National Geographic has these photos of these idiots rock climbing in Yosemite and they are freaking me the fuck out. Who wants to stand on an 18-inch ledge 1,800 feet in the air without a rope? Don't these people have parents?

You may have seen this before, but check out this video of moron Dan Osman speed climbing. He first climbs the rock slowly, mapping out a path, then does it again at super fast speed, without a rope or any safety harness. My favorite comment to the video is, "I'm surprised he's not slowed down by his giant balls." He died in 1998 at the age of 35, after a rope broke during a "controlled free fall," whatever the hell that is. At least we have the youtube video to show our kids what they are never allowed to do.

Speaking of kids, I got this onesie at the Phish show for the one Nilda and I are expecting. We we we so excited.