Now that most people know by now that Lindy is pregnant, (I refuse to say "we're" pregnant because I don't carry the baby) I will give a brief recount of the day she told me she was cookin' sumthin' in the oven.

We went to my sister-in-law's house to throw a mini surprise party for her husband. We were there for barely 2 hours and she asked me if I was ready to go. I was thinking "this is crazy, she never asks to leave this soon." For one thing, Lindy loves to hang out with her sister and our two little nephews. So I say, "ready when you are." (Or somewhere along those lines.)

Now, Lindy's family is pretty notorious for extended goodbyes. I've become accustomed to sitting around as if we're not leaving until I hear the third "goodbye" and then I start to get ready to leave. At around the fifth goodbye, we're well on our way out the door. And by the 7th and final goodbye, we're actually driving away.

So you can pretty much guess that I was more than surprised to be up and out of the house after just ONE simple "bye". As we're driving back home, I'm thinking "there's gonna be some baby-making tonight! Chika Chika Bowwow" (That's 70's porn music playing in the background in case you didn't know). Unfortunately, nothing like that happened.

As we're sitting on the couch watching some tube, which is not exactly what I had in mind for entertainment, Lindy looks at me and says, "I've decided to join the gym with you because I know it's important to you...and it will be good for me because we're having a baby." As I'm staring at her trying to comprehend what she just told me, she pulls out a pair of baby socks with my favorite team symbol on the sides of them (the Colts). I was still in relative shock, but once it wore off, I was so happy, but also very skeptical.

It wasn't until Lindy's first ultrasound that it dawned on me that I was going to be a father. Once I saw that first image of the life we created, I couldn't stop smiling. It was such a great and unexpected feeling. I don't show my emotions that well, but the feeling I had that day, there was no way I could have held it back. A little less than 6 months from now, I'll be a father. (I'm sure the Man upstairs is thinking "what did I do???? not Fredo!!)

----This is Lindy's very first ultrasound, therefore, the first images of our baby. You can hear me say "I believe you're pregnant." I really meant it. There was still that very shocked part of me that needed proof. I know, I'm crazy. At the 1 minute mark, you will actually see it move. And yes, I know we both sound like giggly school girls. But you know what? I don't care.

RATS!!! Gym Rats, that is.

I'M SOOOOO BORED!!! I'm sick. The wife is in Kentucky probably hooking up with an old flame (her cousin). I've got no food and I only have two drinks to choose from: cold water or warm water. I'm watching a show on TLC called "Taboo: Drugs" but all I've seen so far are a bunch of jungle men walking around naked. To top it off, my dog just farted so loud she got up and started barking at the door. So this is my night alone. Boy, I think I'm getting old...


I honestly don't have much of a life outside of Lindy. The free time that I have, I spend at the gym. You may be thinking, "Weights, sweaty dudes, sore body...NO THANKS!" I admit, the gym is ALL that, but I've had many different experiences there. I've discovered that there are many different types of gym rats.

The most noticeable type are the Screamers/Heavy Grunters. You know exactly how many reps they're doing because they're yelling it out. You also know that they're lifting extremely heavy weights because they sound like they're fighting a losing battle in the toilet after ordering "extra spicy" food at their local Indian restaurant. I do have a very fond memory of this type because it still makes me laugh thinking about it. I was at a local gym when this Arnold-looking guy was doing squats with 400 pound weights (yeah, that's a lot even for a freakishly strong little man like me). He was on his 8th and last rep, he screams "EIGHT!!!!" and then lets out a "RAHHHHHHHH!", drops the weights about hip high, still screaming "RAHHHHHHH!" and the weights bounces off the ground and crashes into the mirror...breaking it. At that point, he sounds like: "RAAAHHHHH----OH SH..!" Awesome :)

Another is the "I-Look-Too-Awesome-Flexing-In-Front-Of-The-Mirror-To-Notice-You-Need-To-Get-By-Me" type. These guys (just like the screamers/heavy grunters) are the ones that single-handedly keep GNC stores in business. Even if they're not in front of a mirror, they're easy to spot because they're usually wearing their little sister's wife beaters. Well, wife beaters or hoodies with the arms cut off.

The other type is the talkers/cellphone users. I honestly think that they're just there to socialize and check out hot girls/dudes. They're also easy to spot because they'll be sitting/standing in the same spot/machine working out their lips for a good 10-20 minutes. I remember wanting to use a machine once but there was a couple currently using it. So I decided that I'll just save that machine for my last exercise. I never got that chance because after 45 minutes, they were still there talking.

There are more types, but the last type I'm going to talk about are the Studiers. These are probably the most annoying types. They roam the facility doing typical exercises, but they have this apparent need to observe everyone around them. On occasion, they would forget what set or rep they're on because they're staring at someone that seems to be amusing them. Like the guy on the top of this blog, for example. I have a hatred for these types. They would attempt to gather information about certain individuals at the gym, analyze them and place them in categories or "types", then probably make those poor individuals the main topic of their blog. These types are the lowest of the low. It's hard to spot them at the gym because they're always moving around. They're also small in stature so they tend to get lost in the crowd that consists of Arnold look-a-likes. If I ever see one though...that person better watch out.