Holding...

Kind of stuck at this point, I feel like everyday life has come to a grinding halt as my wife and I hover over the runway in a holding pattern.  We watch movies, hangout with the dogs, and otherwise, well, wait.  We may need to get out of the house, but we're not quite sure where to go.

Planning any type of outing takes strategic timing and maneuvering.  Road trips are out of the question.  Fatigue can set in at any moment, so we have to be prepared.  One minute my wife is racing through the house, folding baby clothes before rearranging furniture in the nursery, bustling with energy while racing up and down the hall.  And then suddenly all is quiet, I find her on the couch, dead to the world, sleeping through another fascinating case of Law & Order.  Just how many episodes of this how exist? 

On Saturday, I found myself talking to the little guy in her belly, singing songs and telling stories--which may be giving him second thoughts about coming out.  We placed our bets as to his arrival.  I’m thinking it’s going to be a couple of weeks, which means two things.  His mother will become increasingly unbearable uncomfortable, and I will work myself into a neurotic mess as I continue to think about D-day.  This is how I spend my weekends.

I did get my truck cleaned up on Sunday, as I prepare to sell my manhood for something more, uh, baby friendly.  Actually this decision didn't bother me at all, as I look forward to seeing a babyseat in the rearview mirror.

So goes our life during these days of anticipating and planning, with each day passing as we wait.  My weekends have changed drastically, as I kicked things off Friday by watching the baby care dvd we received during our class, only this time I didn’t laugh.  With my wife catching up on her lesson plans, I watched intently, unable to control myself from saying "aww" as the little baby took his first breaths. I’m kidding of course, I watched arm wrestling on Spike Tv, drinking beer and eating a raw steak, smoking a cigar while curling cinderblocks with my free hand.  I’m still a man, I think.

Baby Care Class

I write this post filled with an array of knowledge of all things pertaining to baby care.  Go ahead, ask me something, anything.  Actually don’t.  I left this class more scared than informed, certain that I will never safely secure a baby seat.  I’m also uncertain as to what a crying baby needs, or how in the world I am supposed to differentiate a healthy stool texture from an unhealthy one for that matter...I didn't know I had to look at it!

Anne with Alfred

We arrived at class early, as I had rushed my wife out of the house to get there on time.  As we walked in, we were offered a baby, and to my wife’s dismay, I picked out the biggest one I could find.  I named him Alfred, so I wouldn't call him Simon and get all attached. (He was very realistic).

As the other families joined us, I recognized the doe-eyed look of the other expecting fathers walking into the classroom. 

Our instructor, Charlotte, was a pleasant lady who apologized for the scorching temperatures in the room, probably not the best environment for the very pregnant women to be sitting in. 

She asked how long we thought the average delivery time is for first time mothers.  My wife immediately chimed in:

Alfred and Me

“10-15 minutes?”  The room laughed, and this was when I realized I was sitting next to the class clown.

Our little comedian made remarks about the instructional videos, breast feeding, car beds, diaper changes, circumcisions, and much more. 

She pointed out that I had drowned the baby in the tub, clunked his head while changing his diaper, and possibly dislocated his arm while attempting to get his little onesie on correctly.  But Alfred took it in stride, he was a trooper who I’m sure had been manhandled by far worse than the likes of me.  Besides, he looked completely content in the neat swaddle I had wrapped for him.

For the remainder of the class, I frantically scribbled notes while my wife occasionally snorted in my direction, doing everything short of calling me a nerd.  It seems the teacher is quite the unruly student.

As 9pm approached, the yawns began to spread throughout our anticipating class and it was clear we were on borrowed time.  Charlotte wished us luck on our delivery and sent us on our way,  armed with another instructional dvd to watch at home and a few helpful websites.  All in all, it was $20 well spent.  Next up for us is a tour of the maternity ward, or as they call it, The Birthing Unit, which sounds to me like a facility at Sea World.