The Laborious Task of Becoming An Uncle (Pt. 2)

In yesterday's pilot episode of The State of Kulifay, I spent the day arduously contributing to my sister-in-law's induced labor but no baby was to be seen. I blamed this on her not giving the proverbial 110%. Names are not provided here as she played soccer in college and can undoubtedly kick me quite hard in a variety of painful places. Still, questions must be asked as we finish up our story: Can she pick up the slack in the second day ? Will I endanger the pregnancy by alienating the entire medical staff with my Fox network style humor and suggestive comments? Will the Republican party provide a suitable candidate to challenge Obama in '12? I provide the chronological journal of my exhaustive efforts in expanding our family.

TUESDAY 6/21 8:30 am: I am in the hospital waiting room struggling through the last half hour of Good Morning America knowing my sacrifice will be worth it at 9 when Regis and Kelly grace the television with their soul-restoring wisdom. Regis gives me hope that I can maintain my youthful vigor and juvenile sexually harassing charm when I'm 112 years old. We have been informed that my sister-in-law's labor is progressing and that she is being well supported by my brother, who is in the room with her providing encouragement by eating breakfast and watching Saved By The Bell. Nothing like childbirth to reveal the wonder that is a true marital partnership. My parents and my brother's in-laws engage in a discussion on suitable child names and feign age-inflicted hearing loss at my various suggestions of 'Tyrese', 'Atticus' and 'Brangelina'. Feeling rejected by a world that doesn't understand me (insert The Goo Goo Dolls 'Iris' here) I decide a large coffee might restore my faith in humanity.

TUESDAY 6/21 9:12 am: I wander aimlessly through the hospital's gift shop inspecting various trinkets of questionable value and even more questionable worth to new mothers. I decide that my sister-in-law will appreciate my principled protest against 800% markups and I make my way to the coffee shop (shoppe?). As I fill my cup up halfway with coffee, a bit of milk and 17 tablespoons of sugar I reflect on how much simpler this process is since I lack common courtesy and neglected to inquire whether any of my parents, brother (who has slept 38 minutes in 2 days) or extended family would like me to pick up anything for them while I'm here. I rationalize that Jesus is most likely focused on those directly involved in childbirth at the moment and I'll make it up to my brother by not giving my nephew/niece his/her first beer until he/she is at least 16. Before the child is even born it is already accepted that I will be 'that' uncle.

TUESDAY 6/21 10:54 am: I have spent the last 102 minutes ignoring the judgemental glares of my family as I have slowly enjoyed my delicious, life-affirming hazelnut flavored beverage. I may have reinforced their resentment by drinking obnoxiously loudly and releasing pleasurable moans of caffeinated ectasy after each sip. Luckily I am saved from bodily harm by the arrival of my brother, who has prepared to have these lifelong memories captured on camera forever by wearing his finest beer-sponsored Pittsburgh Penguins t-shirt. Attire aside he seems to be rather intently trying to convey something so I reluctantly remove one of my iPod earbuds to hear him announce the arrival of a healthy, 9lb 6 oz baby girl. Congratulations and hugs are extended all around as my left ear is flooded with the soothing sounds of Hootie & the Blowfish's 'Let Her Cry', a fitting soundtrack for my new niece's entrance to the world.

TUESDAY 6/21 11:40 am: We are finally allowed inside the birthing room to greet my sister-in-law and her newly minted bundle of joy. The delay between announcement and room visit was because apparently childbirth is accompanied by a variety of unpleasant things that the mother does not want witnesses to, nor do the rest of us want to witness. I've learned a lot over the past couple days and cannot help but think how public education has let me down in a multitude of areas. I join in the celebration until it's my turn to hold her (the baby, not my sister-in-law) where I proceed to handle her with a unique style that seems to be hybrid of cradling fine china and handling a loaf of sourdough bread. I will be reminded of my awkwardness the following day when my sister-in-law's brother not only tucks her in with the confidence of an NFL running back handling a football, but also uses her to strike the Heisman pose. I reassure everyone around that I will become more accustomed to holding her as time goes on but felt it necessary to take precautions unless her genes leaned toward her father and she inherited his fragility.

TUESDAY 6/21 3:13 pm: While I am enjoying the presence of new life in the world I decide it is time to take my leave from the hospital. I've done all I can and at some point I must allow my brother and his wife to begin the parenting process without my wise guidance and nurturing support. It's not always easy to kick the baby birds out of the nest but if you want them to fly it's necessary. I pack up my iPod, my Kindle, my cell phone, my 3rd cup of coffee, some jello I stole out of a patient's room, and my protective instincts and make my way home. I am pensive, thinking of the world my niece is coming into. A world where sin and selfishness is too often celebrated. A world where Ashton Kutcher is a movie star. I wonder whether I can help protect her tiny, helpless form as she grows into a girl and then a woman. I wonder if she will have health, and find happiness and love and success. I wonder if she will see the Pirates win in her lifetime. I wonder if I'm up to the responsibilities of being an uncle. Sure, I took the burden this far, but it's a lifetime to go. All I know is I'm thankful she's here. I couldn't be prouder of my brother and sister-in-law. And I'll be there for all of them every step of the way. Until she poops.