I decided to take a little trip through Jim's mind and have him be a bit less confident than I typically write him.  I played with tense a little, and have read this over and over again and I'm SURE I missed some things. I apologize in advance! lol

You stick the tip of your index finger just inside the front row of your teeth like you do sometimes when something amuses you.  You look away from the camera.

"Yeah...it's so funny because she literally forgets everything now...like everything" You  say smiling again at the camera.  And you wonder for a second if anyone's ever been this happy about anything. "We seriously just talked about this."

You glance through the blinds behind you and you still don't see her.  She'd behind her desk though you know that...you also know she's not about to come walking through the conference door with pink embarrassment on her cheeks.

It was 11:45, Tuesday. Your regularly scheduled (since announcing your pregnancy) joint talking head.

 You'd even rolled your eyes together when you'd looked at the call sheet at 11am. "We're on again," she'd said on a sigh.

Naps could so easily make you forget little things like documentaries being filmed in your office.

You weren't about to walk behind the desk and wake her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She

It hits you that same night, and all you can think is to blame it on that Thai food she'd wanted all of a sudden.  Nay, needed all of a sudden.  Like maybe she'd die without it. She'd all but begged you to go and get take out from a place you'd never even tried before all because of a glossy set of coupons in your mailbox.

When you find yourself staring at that fuzzy sonogram picture for over an hour - thinking maybe you'll see some evidence of she,  and that your future speech will be chalked full of that exact pronoun, "she", you already start to think about how few times a day you say "he" anymore.  Unless you're recounting some story about Dwight, or talking to Pam about some ridiculous price your mechanic wants to charge you for spark plugs.  

It's true.  You're not imagining it. Stories that include he are getting fewer and fewer as the shes in your life take over.  As your life gets more and more populated by the little ‘s' that makes the ‘h' and ‘e' so profoundly different.

And you don't care what anyone says, Jill may have certain personality traits that are yours, but the things she likes...they are much different from the things you liked at her age.  Also...nobody had to show her how to pout the way she does when she doesn't get her way and nobody had to teach her that she'd rather have a tea party than watch Sports Center highlights with you.  Also she'd much rather try and feed the birds than throw rocks at them.

You're not proud of what that implies, but you're not a perfect person and you weren't at three and a half either.

You're sitting on the bottom step where the light from the front hallway hits and you've got Jill's sonogram photo in your hands now and you're comparing the two...at 3 in the morning. 

What exactly you'd been looking for you're not sure. All you know is that you'd felt compelled to pull this photo out of its place in the album beneath the coffee table marked "Jill's First Photos".  The first few pages were of Pam's flat belly on the night they'd discovered she was pregnant, on Michael's birthday.  The next couple of photos had been like this one...grainy.

So you sit on those steps examining the two.  Whatever reassurance you'd been looking for not found.

Pam, was the first ‘she' that changed your life.  Before her, you kind of just thought the idea was to date as many nice (and cute) girls as you could and eventually one day one of them would be pretty cool and you'd eventually, almost by natural selection end up married to her.  But unexpectedly (yet expectedly because this was you after all) it hadn't happened that way at all. You knew without hesitation the minute she smiled at you that she was the one for you. Before lunch.  You hadn't needed a date to tell you she was it.

You hadn't asked for it, but there it was and you wouldn't change a thing about how it all happened, even now.  As crazy and as insane as she made you and you made her...Maybe if you changed even the slightest moment, you wouldn't be sitting on these steps, holding two copies of her.  

The second she that changed your life, came along and threw everything you knew about anything out the window.  All the confidence you'd felt on the day you married Pam - all of that - out the window like some balled up greasy fast food wrapper on the side of the highway.  It sounded so insanely dramatic but life as you knew it hadn't been the same since.

People constantly comment on how big she's getting but they don't see how small her hand is in yours...still.  How can you have something so small with something even smaller on the way?  Maybe you and Pam should have thought about this...

Not that girl babies were any different from boy babies in size. One baby would be just as small as another...it made no difference.  Unless you were Dwight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You must have incredibly weak sperm."

You'd glanced up from the spreadsheet in front of you, licking your lips.  This would be...good? Was that the right word for Dwight's little announcements? Good?

"I'm sorry?"

"Yes. You are," Dwight had said glancing from you to Pam and then you again. "Once again, Jim Halpert sires a girl child...It must be so sad not being unable to produce someone to carry on the Halpert name."

Pam's nose had wrinkled and her lips mushed together.  You'd tried hard not to laugh because you knew what she'd really been reacting to was the word ‘sire'.  It was on her list of all time most hated words.

"Yeah. I did," you'd said nodding. "And it's not sad because we're naming her, Halpert Halpert. So..."

Pam had groaned as she went back to typing.  Shaking her head as you'd played along.

"You're not naming her Halpert Halpert, Jim."

"No, we are."

"If she gets married she loses the name, Jim.  That doesn't make any sense," Dwight had said rolling his eyes as if you were the dumbest human alive.

"Well that's why the double...so Halpert will always be somewhere in it."

"Jim, that's not...that's not the same as carrying on a name."

"What's not?" You'd asked, frowning as if you were confused and had lost track of the conversation all together.

Dwight had sighed. "Let me just ask you this...Does weak sperm run in your family?  Because I know someone who can examine you and straighten things out...but it's the only time I'm going to offer."

"You're offering to examine me?...Dwight, I'm uncomfortable with that."

"Not me, you -

"No, Dwight don't get offended, ok?...I mean if I was into dudes...sure. I just...I don't like you like that."

"That's...that's not...forget it."

"Forgotten," you'd said and smiled at Pam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shes.

You vow on this night, as you sit in front of your computer, at 3:27a.m., to keep all your shes away from guys like Dwight, but then you realize there aren't any "guys like Dwight" and you're relieved for the briefest of moments.

There are others though.  Lots of other kinds of guys. You think about that and you think about how you've done this before.  Four years ago you sat in front of your computer in complete darkness googling things you didn't understand yet; Colic, diaper rash, breast pumps.  You'd been crazed just like now, only this time around you were looking up more abstract kinds of things; things that couldn't be treated with an ointment or purchased on Target.com.

The things you're thinking about this time have to do with self-esteem and worth and...making someone feel important and loved.  Like how do you make sure you're a good dad to girls?  Because from what you can gather it seems like girls...like maybe they need you to be extra good.  It feels like there's a lot riding on your performance here. Like maybe your performance will be more heavily weighted than Pam's in the final analysis.

You feel a little crazy all of a sudden when what you should be feeling is relief!  You already have a daughter under your belt.  And for what it was worth you were doing alright, right?  What the heck would you do with a boy anyway? You weren't any good at fixing things.  You made the plumbing worse, and ripped a hole in the wall trying to get that damn clowning painting down.  The most you could show a boy was your jump shot and even that wasn't what it once was. So ok...girls. You were a girl's dad.

Jill wasn't any worse for the wear, right? Ok, so maybe she was a little spoiled - maybe a lot spoiled actually.  You and Pam (mostly you) probably weren't doing her any favors in the "realistic expectations" department.  She'd probably have a tough time when this new she came along, because you meet her every need the second you realize there is one (also you meet her every want as often as you can). On second thought maybe you need to change the way you're doing things with her.  

But when? Now? Is that fair to her? There's only seven months left before she has to start sharing things, and not all of them are tangible.  She's going to have to share things like love and affection...

Do people have to share that though? Is that how it works?  You know you don't love Pam any less now since Jill was born.  You love her more.  Maybe you don't have to share or split anything...maybe love is the one thing inside you that can get better over time.

Maybe it's all ok...

Maybe you're going crazy...

You back away from the computer.  Pam would say, "Turn off the computer and come to bed."  She'd say, "Stop getting smart about the baby.  I don't want you to be smarter than me about our kids."  She'd say all of this if she wasn't knocked out upstairs with a baby inside her, and an older baby sleeping horizontally between her side of the bed and his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm not sure what's going on.  She wants to sleep with us again all of a sudden.  The only other time she's done this was when we first moved in to the new house...she was a little scared.  Pam said she read somewhere that sometimes the first kid can actually get a little frightened by pregnancy...so now it's Pam, Jill, Pam's belly, myself, and Jill's feet...it's the best sleep ever," you explain rubbing that spot beneath your ribs where she likes to lodge her feet every night.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes are burning as you head up the stairs and you think about what your mom said about going to the optometrist.  Maybe you need glasses from being in front of a computer screen all the time. God help you, you're about to have your second child and your mom still has to tell you to go see a doctor.

Also...you're about to have a second child and you need glasses...Nice.

Somehow though when you're upstairs in your bedroom and you're pulling back the covers and Jill's got her head on her mommy's expanding belly you can't help but turn around and grab your camera out of the nightstand drawer because it's all three of your shes in one picture and it's beautiful.

That night you get about an hour of sleep before you're alarm clock is going off and she's got Jill dressed and ready even before you can pour a few bowls of cereal.  It's with bloodshot eyes and your spoon halfway to your mouth, that you say, "Tell me what you like about your dad."

She squints up at you. "What do you mean?  He's my dad...I don't know."

"I mean just...was he really nice when you were younger or -

"Well he's nice now, Jim."

"No, I know that. I guess I'm just wondering...What kind of dad was he..."

She squints again because she knows you're crazy.  "Is this because of your late night research?  Jim, I thought we talked about that......I almost came down here last night but I just...." Her yawn interrupts her. "Couldn't."

You grin for a moment because she's adorable and you know for a fact that she got about eleven hours of sleep last night.

She gives you a quick stern look before rising to dump the rest of her cereal down the drain.

"Daddy's in twouble," Jill says, catching her mom's look.  You make the same stern face at Jill before touching your forehead to hers and she starts laughing so hard.

"Bean it looks like you're all done with your woah-woahs, come here." Pam says and moves to lift her out of her highchair and you realize only after her slight grimace that Jill's getting too heavy for her to be lifting so you nudge her aside.

"I got her."

She's talking to Jill over your shoulder, "Mommy wants you to go get your jacket from your bed and your Unicorn tennis shoes."

"Mommy I'll get flip-flops," she says as you put her down.  These days she's always, always arguing.

"No...get the tennis shoes because Miss Katherine's taking all the kids to the petting zoo today."

"No Mommy, I want -

"Jill Marie, what did we say about that word?...You can go and get your tennis shoes or I'll go and get them, but if I have to get them no fro-yo after pre-school today."

You watch Jill Marie pout her way up the stairs.  Wow.

You sit down in your chair and Pam sits across from you and for a minute you wonder if she can read your mind. Maybe she's been thinking some of the same things you've been thinking.

"I hate threatening her like that, but she's driving me a little crazy lately."

You laugh because...yes.  You close the distance between the two of you and kiss her over your cereal bowl for about a minute before she pulls away.   

"Ok..." She says. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I mean something...but it's completely ridiculous."

She shrugs and you wonder why you worry at all.

"You're feeling stressed?"

"No...Yes."

"About the baby? About our crazy three year old whose most favorite word is ‘no'?...What could you possibly be stressed about?"

You shake your head because you think it's literally everything. It's sports, and dresses, and dates, and boys...boys.  It's all so terribly cliché and you hate it.

But it's also other things like...who Pam was when you first met her.  Who she was underneath it all and who she is now. It all the things that make her who she is...you need to know them.  You wanted to make...you want to get this right.  Jill was getting too old to just pretend at this. 

You remember in that moment something your uncle told you before your very first job interview: You're a good bluffer Jim, just fake it till you make it.

Fake it till you make it.  Is that what you've been doing?...You don't feel like you have. You aren't a bad father, but there has to be more to this, right? There was probably something Jill needed you to be doing...and now this new one...it was going to take even more.

You're certain that Pam takes your silence as your quiet unraveling, because finally she says, "Hey...can I think about your original question and get back to you?"

"Huh?"

"You wanted to know what I like about my dad.  I'll tell you...I just want to really think about it before I answer you."

You don't nod or smile you just lean forward and kiss her again because she's so amazing that she understands your neuroses before you even give voice to them.

At the office only a few hours later, she stays true to her word and before noon your Instant Messenger sounds.

PHalpert:  Hey - it's me.

JHalpert: Be quick about this. I'm expecting my wife to IM me any minute now.

PHalpert:  Hmm....lame.  You need more sleep.

JHalpert:  Thanks.

PHalpert: Ok, so here's the deal...My dad loves me.  I've never once doubted that... growing up he showed that love by providing for us. That was a big deal to him.  It still is.  He's the kind of guy who went to work no matter how tired or sick he was because he had a family to support.  

Something else I love about my dad is that he laughs easily and I can make him laugh better than anyone in my family.  My dad's also very honest...this has been both a blessing and a curse because he can be almost brutally so sometimes.  You've been around when I've taken things the wrong way or...well, maybe he just said them the wrong way. When he doesn't like something - you know it.  If he thinks you're wasting your time on something - you know it.

He could have been more attentive, but like I said he was always busy.  He could have taken more of an interest in my interests. He was distracted easily, especially when things you were talking about didn't really matter a whole lot in terms of what was productive or useful.  He's always been a guy's guy and I was a guy's little girl in the beginning I think. I loved watching sports with him, I'd go out and throw the football with him all the time, but I started growing out of those things when I hit puberty. I turned into this artsy little thing...and as I got older he didn't really get me. The art thing, my friends, my moodiness, Roy...all of that definitely wedged something between us.  I love my dad though. I love my dad, Jim.

I don't know if that helps.

JHalpert:  Do I pay you?  If not, I should.

PHalpert:  Jim, if all you ever do for the rest of their lives is exactly what you're doing now...you'll be perfect.

Later when Pam falls asleep on the couch immediately following dinner and it's just you and Jill, you can't help but smile when she crouches down and carefully kisses Pam's stomach.

"Good girl...come here," you say and she's climbing into your lap. "Let's not wake mommy."

"Daddy I love my little bwother...Did you see?"

"Yeah I saw, Jelly Bean. But you're getting a little sister."

She smiles wide and gasps, even though it's not the first time she's heard this.  You and Pam can't figure out if she just wants to hear it again or she's honestly forgetting or she's not quite sure what it means.  But she lights up again now like she did the first time you told her.

"A baby sister?"

"Yep."

"And she's in mommy's tummy right now where I kissed her goodnight?"

"Yes."

"Dat's the best kind Daddy."

"What's the best kind?"

"Dat baby girl in dere," she says pointing at Pam's stomach. "Girl babies Daddy, dose are the best?"

"Yes," I say, kissing her forehead.

Yes.  Weak sperm, my ass.

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