Happy Birthday, Wife

As you can see from that image, my beautiful wife, Bridget, is pregnant. She's about five months pregnant now -- a little more than halfway there -- and, as you can imagine, people like to talk about that bump quite a bit. In their defense, it's pretty hard not to. It's a huge protrusion that contains a new life. How can you not talk about it? It'd be like talking to Larry Bird and not mentioning the Celtics. Or chatting with Morgan Freeman and leaving out The Shawshank Redemption.

But this post -- and this weekend -- are not about the bump. They are about Bridget because Sunday is her 31st birthday. Hooray! Happy Birthday, wife!

And to take a page from my wedding vows (which takes a page from David Letterman), I'm going to share 10 things you probably didn't know about Bridget. Some will be serious and some will be light (after this week, who couldn't use something light?), but all will be true.

Without further ado:

10. She has perfect running form. I mean, perfect. She may not be the fastest (spoiler: she's not), but she runs with this fluid motion that would make Usain Bolt weep.

9. She went to college in Canada. More specifically, she went to McGill University in Quebec. Why? Well, why not? The education is just as good and it's way cheaper.

8. She's not bitter not spending this year's birthday in Paris. Oh, wait ... Last year, we had the good fortune to spend her 30th birthday -- and the second of our mini-honeymoons -- in perhaps the most beautiful city on Earth. This year, a french restaurant in Cambridge! Same thing, right?

7. She would spend every last penny on travel. If Bridget had a choice between food, water, and a trip to Cambodia, she'd choose the third option. She's one of those people who thinks spending money on experiences is far more important than spending money on material things.

6. She hates jaywalking. Crossing outside of a crosswalk without the image of a bright white walking man in front of her makes her really, really nervous. It's peculiar.

5. She's a dawdler. When we first started dating, this was the biggest fear on her list. She tended to move fairly slowly, while I wanted to hike a mountain, give blood, and go to Fresh Pond before 8 AM. So far, we're doing okay.

4. She's really smart. She got 1490 on her SATs. I've always found that impressive.

3. She hates re-watching shows or movies. Like most people (I think), I have a collection of go-to flicks when I need a little comfort. Hoosiers, Swingers, and Sideways top the list. Bridget hates watching something she's already seen. "You already know what's going to happen," she says.

2. She could eat white rice with butter and parmesan cheese for every meal for the rest of her life. Seriously.

1. She's really, really, really excited about being a mom. Can't you tell by the big, beautiful smile on her picture above?

Happy Birthday, Bridget! I can't wait to celebrate your 81st, too ...

Where is the Baby Going to Fit?

We live in a 768-square-foot apartment in Cambridge. And, truth be told, we like it an awful lot. It’s located in between Harvard Square and Porter Square, and, for all intents and purposes, is surrounded by everything we need. We have lots of culture, great neighbors, and convenience around every corner. You want restaurants? A stone's throw away. Grocery shopping? Just down the street. Boston? Hop on the subway and I’ll see you in 10 minutes.

Despite everything our apartment has, it’s missing one important thing: space.

Now, babies, I hear, are small, which is good. But babies, I hear, need a ton of stuff, which is bad.

Why is this hitting me all of a sudden? We're just coming back from a trip to New Hampshire where we visited our friends, Dan and Steph, and their four-month-old bundle of joy, Landon. They live in 4,000-square-foot pad with guest rooms that are the size of our apartment. Their back deck may be bigger than our street. (I exaggerate, of course, but you see where I'm going with this.)

Now, we’re not materialistic people by any stretch of the imagination, but for the past couple years, we've been able to buy ourselves nice clothes and nice things. The trouble is we’re already out of room. Both our bureaus are bursting at the seams (literally, thanks to Ikea) and our closets are stuffed like a big ol' Thanksgiving turkey. Our spare bedroom? Think more Shawshank Redemption and less Downton Abbey. 

So where will baby Briddon's stuff go?

Last weekend, we went stroller shopping, which was actually pretty fun. Then we got to the part about having to fold it up and actually keep it in our apartment.

"And this just folds neatly like that," said the incredibly helpful saleswoman at Magic Beans.

"Right," I thought, "and then how do you fold that up because that thing will dominate our linen closet."

So what's the answer? Do we have to throw away a bunch of our things? Do we have to rearrange our apartment to make way for baby? Do we have to move? We’ve decided the answer to question No. 3, for now, is no. We like the city and we plan to stay here for at least one kid and maybe two -- assuming there is a two.

But I can’t imagine what life will be like a year from now. I look around the apartment and see adult things. We have candles and DVD players and speakers and picture frames and iPads. Will those be replaced by bottles and toys and dirty diapers and onesies? The answer, I’m realizing, is yes.

This, of course, will be a huge adjustment. The more I think about it, though, the less worried I get. Stuff is overrated anyway. Just please don't make fun of me if I wear the same outfit every day after August. The rest of my clothes will be in storage.