Shannon had a doctor’s appointment yesterday to check the progress of the boy. He is getting bigger and more active by the minute. We have all been wondering when he would decide his “apartment” is too small and move to his new place. The boy is approaching, if not past, the nine pound mark. Shannon’s belly has grown larger than a basketball. From the side, it looks as if she is shoplifting a beach ball. In fact, the doctor said during her checkup, “You either need to have this baby or I need to buy a bigger tape measure.” The problem is Shannon is showing no signs of approaching labor. The baby is still riding high and her cervix is tighter than a submarine hatch.
Because of the baby’s size, the doctor has some concerns about labor. (So does Shannon!) He does not want the pregnancy to progress too far and the boy to get precariously big. If she goes all the way to her original due date the boy could weigh well over ten pounds. More if she goes past, this is common for first time mothers.
Dr. Mills decided the best course of action might be to schedule a cesarean delivery for Wednesday, November 28th. I think this is best. Although, I have to admit, part of me would like Shannon to go for the world record of “Biggest Baby”. She could make the cover of The Enquirer or get on Maury Povich. Who knows, maybe even a Lifetime made for TV movie starring Tori Spelling or Meredith Baxter Birney. (Painful Record: The Shannon Minninger Story)
So, unless anything happens between now and then, we will be having a baby on Wednesday, November 28th.
How nice to have something scheduled.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Things that don't fit into another post.
I have a couple of funny instances to tell that don't quite fit into another post.
Yesterday my wife and I stopped at a Chik-fil-a resturant for lunch. She ordered a box of chicken nuggets. When she was eating them she accidentally dropped one on the floor and started to cry. It wasn't until just a minute ago that I learned she really was crying about the nugget. I thought she was kidding. Hormones are crazy!
Last Friday while we were at the doctors office for her checkup the nurse led us to the exam room. Before closing the door, she said "undress from the waist down so the Doctor can examine you". I told Shannon it would be funny if I took my pants off, too. When Doctor Mills opened the door I could have said "Oh...you meant her?"
We decided against it.
Yesterday my wife and I stopped at a Chik-fil-a resturant for lunch. She ordered a box of chicken nuggets. When she was eating them she accidentally dropped one on the floor and started to cry. It wasn't until just a minute ago that I learned she really was crying about the nugget. I thought she was kidding. Hormones are crazy!
Last Friday while we were at the doctors office for her checkup the nurse led us to the exam room. Before closing the door, she said "undress from the waist down so the Doctor can examine you". I told Shannon it would be funny if I took my pants off, too. When Doctor Mills opened the door I could have said "Oh...you meant her?"
We decided against it.
Party Time!
Many of the people who read this blog have been to at least one social event at our house. Maybe it was one of the “legendary” Cinco de Mayo parties Shannon and I hosted over the years. Frozen margarita machines flowing, gallons of tequila consumed, house and yard full of friends, neighbors and acquaintances.
Or, maybe you were at our last New Years Eve “Martini party”. You know, the one that went until 4 am. We went through about 12 large bottles of vodka. The next morning Shannon was upset that we didn’t sing “Auld Lang Syne” at midnight. (That is until she got the party photos back and realized we did.) Following these events, that is after partying most of the night and then cleaning the house the next day, I would have categorized myself as tired.
That has nothing on a wild weekend of baby showers.
I was not fortunate enough to actually attend the shower on Saturday. It was held at my Mother’s house. The guest list included female family members and close female family friends. I was not on that guest list. My primary duty was “pack mule”. I was instructed to show up near the very end of the festivities to load the shower gifts into my car. Judging by the “wild” look in everybody’s eyes when I arrived, I missed quite a blowout. (It could be that they were just hopped up on pastel colored icing). I spent the next 45 minutes or so carrying armfuls of little bags decorated with babies, storks, balloons and curly ribbon out to my car.
Sunday, on the other hand, was my day to shine. We had a couples shower at a downtown bookstore! I could hardly sleep the night before in anticipation. I felt like an eight year old on Christmas Eve. “Somebody pinch me,” I was thinking.
The couples shower started at 1:00 PM Sunday afternoon. Shannon and I arrived about 12:50. It was a very neat place. I had driven by several times but, I had never been inside before.(I know what you’re thinking… “Dan, never been in this bookstore? I don’t believe it!”). The store was inside one of the old brick buildings in downtown Chattanooga. I am sure it had been a factory or warehouse at some point in the last 100 years.
There was a nice little area set up in the back for the baby shower. I walked over and looked around. Some chairs, and a cake. Finger food and decorations. All of it with a children’s book theme. Then I noticed the best part - a stage with a bench and spotlight, several shower gifts surrounding it. All I could think was “Awesome, this will be just like dinner theater!” I beamed with excitement. We all know how much I love dinner theater.
As friends trickled in, Shannon and I answered many baby questions. Some people asked about our level of preparedness. Others wanted to know about a name for the baby or daycare plans. I was mostly just happy that the focus of the conversations was on how big Shannon’s belly had gotten rather than how big mine had grown. Before long, my wife and I were ushered to the bench on the small stage. It was time to open gifts.
I sat on the small wooden bench smiling out at our dear friends. At least I think I was looking at our friends. The white hot spot lights had burned out my retinas. Plus, I was sweating like a thief in a police line up. “Stay focused,” I told myself. Shannon would read the card and announce who had given the gift. I had the very important job of digging through the mountains of tissue paper and holding up the present for all to see. When I had given the appropriate amount of “ooohs” or “aaaahs”, I moved on to the next package. Before long, we were done. I spent the rest of the afternoon talking with the diverse shower guests. It was easy to relax once the pressure of sitting center stage was off. All in all, it was a pretty pleasant day.
On Monday I took the day off of work. I thought I would take a day to recuperate before heading back to the office. I was wrong. It turns out the real reason I wanted the day off was to go shopping. Because I make most of the decisions in the house, I decided not to waste this time “lollygagging” around the house. I should first make a list of the things we still needed for the baby and then create a plan for acquiring those items quickly. Once the items were purchased I should get home and organize, assemble and/or install them.
It is now Monday evening and I am exhausted.
I would sincerely like to thank everybody involved in the planning and preparation of these baby showers. Mom, Alice, Carole, Jill, Amanda and Allison on Saturday. Nathalie, Becky, Beth, Jessica on Sunday. We are very lucky to have such great family and friends. You have helped make this exciting time in our lives more enjoyable.
I am also glad that I had the chance to see so many close friends over the weekend. Thank you for your kind words and thoughtful gifts. As a token of my appreciation, you will all get a chance to baby sit in the near future.
Or, maybe you were at our last New Years Eve “Martini party”. You know, the one that went until 4 am. We went through about 12 large bottles of vodka. The next morning Shannon was upset that we didn’t sing “Auld Lang Syne” at midnight. (That is until she got the party photos back and realized we did.) Following these events, that is after partying most of the night and then cleaning the house the next day, I would have categorized myself as tired.
That has nothing on a wild weekend of baby showers.
I was not fortunate enough to actually attend the shower on Saturday. It was held at my Mother’s house. The guest list included female family members and close female family friends. I was not on that guest list. My primary duty was “pack mule”. I was instructed to show up near the very end of the festivities to load the shower gifts into my car. Judging by the “wild” look in everybody’s eyes when I arrived, I missed quite a blowout. (It could be that they were just hopped up on pastel colored icing). I spent the next 45 minutes or so carrying armfuls of little bags decorated with babies, storks, balloons and curly ribbon out to my car.
Sunday, on the other hand, was my day to shine. We had a couples shower at a downtown bookstore! I could hardly sleep the night before in anticipation. I felt like an eight year old on Christmas Eve. “Somebody pinch me,” I was thinking.
The couples shower started at 1:00 PM Sunday afternoon. Shannon and I arrived about 12:50. It was a very neat place. I had driven by several times but, I had never been inside before.(I know what you’re thinking… “Dan, never been in this bookstore? I don’t believe it!”). The store was inside one of the old brick buildings in downtown Chattanooga. I am sure it had been a factory or warehouse at some point in the last 100 years.
There was a nice little area set up in the back for the baby shower. I walked over and looked around. Some chairs, and a cake. Finger food and decorations. All of it with a children’s book theme. Then I noticed the best part - a stage with a bench and spotlight, several shower gifts surrounding it. All I could think was “Awesome, this will be just like dinner theater!” I beamed with excitement. We all know how much I love dinner theater.
As friends trickled in, Shannon and I answered many baby questions. Some people asked about our level of preparedness. Others wanted to know about a name for the baby or daycare plans. I was mostly just happy that the focus of the conversations was on how big Shannon’s belly had gotten rather than how big mine had grown. Before long, my wife and I were ushered to the bench on the small stage. It was time to open gifts.
I sat on the small wooden bench smiling out at our dear friends. At least I think I was looking at our friends. The white hot spot lights had burned out my retinas. Plus, I was sweating like a thief in a police line up. “Stay focused,” I told myself. Shannon would read the card and announce who had given the gift. I had the very important job of digging through the mountains of tissue paper and holding up the present for all to see. When I had given the appropriate amount of “ooohs” or “aaaahs”, I moved on to the next package. Before long, we were done. I spent the rest of the afternoon talking with the diverse shower guests. It was easy to relax once the pressure of sitting center stage was off. All in all, it was a pretty pleasant day.
On Monday I took the day off of work. I thought I would take a day to recuperate before heading back to the office. I was wrong. It turns out the real reason I wanted the day off was to go shopping. Because I make most of the decisions in the house, I decided not to waste this time “lollygagging” around the house. I should first make a list of the things we still needed for the baby and then create a plan for acquiring those items quickly. Once the items were purchased I should get home and organize, assemble and/or install them.
It is now Monday evening and I am exhausted.
I would sincerely like to thank everybody involved in the planning and preparation of these baby showers. Mom, Alice, Carole, Jill, Amanda and Allison on Saturday. Nathalie, Becky, Beth, Jessica on Sunday. We are very lucky to have such great family and friends. You have helped make this exciting time in our lives more enjoyable.
I am also glad that I had the chance to see so many close friends over the weekend. Thank you for your kind words and thoughtful gifts. As a token of my appreciation, you will all get a chance to baby sit in the near future.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Fixin'
As they say in the south, my wife is fixin’ to pop.
Shannon had another doctor’s appointment and ultrasound yesterday. I took a late lunch and went with her to the doctor’s office. I have not been to the last couple of appointments and thought it was time I got an update on my progeny.
The appointment was at 2:00 PM. We arrived in the waiting room around 1:50. The place was empty except for a teenage girl and her mom. The mom had big, bleached hair and was wearing skin tight jeans. The shoes she had on were the kind designed to be worn while twirling around a pole. “I wonder which one is pregnant,” was my first thought.
Shannon signed in and I headed towards an uncomfortable chair. No sooner had I begun to thumb through a stack of old parenting magazines, when the door opened. “Shannon,” the nurse said. Wow, that was fast. I didn’t even have time to read an article about making your own organic baby food. (I always find it funny that the same magazines that promote a “greener” lifestyle also advertise $150 jeans for a two year old.)
So I follow my wife down the hallway towards the ultrasound room. “Is it okay if I give my urine sample first?” Shannon says. “I really need to go”. The ultrastenographer says that would be fine. “Just bring the cup in the ultrasound room when you are done so it won’t get mixed up with someone else’s sample,” she says. So, Shannon goes into the bathroom and I follow the young woman into the ultrasound room.
I am just sitting there patiently waiting for Shannon to finish in the bathroom. There is an uncomfortable silence. I am tempted to hop up on the table and ask her to scan my belly and see what’s in there. I make my way over to the “husband” chair. It is a small, hard folding chair, crammed in the corner. (Similar to the “husband” chairs found outside of department store women’s dressing rooms.) In a minute in two, Shannon walks in and promptly places a Dixie cup full of her urine on the counter just inches in front of me. “Hello, I’m sitting right here!” I think to myself.
My pregnant wife wrestles herself up on the exam table, lays back and pulls up her shirt to reveal her tummy. The ultrastenographer squirts a big wad of jelly on the summit of Mount Minninger. As she moves the wand back and forth across my wife’s midsection we all stare at the flickering screen. “There is the face and a leg and the heart” says the woman. “Oh, and he is definitely still a boy”. Exactly like the last two ultrasounds, I don’t recognize any of those fuzzy, grey shapes as actual body parts. “Look, you can see hair on his head!” she says. She is just making stuff up to torment me now.
We finish the ultrasound and the results are recorded in Shannon’s file. The nice lady shows us to another exam room to wait on Doctor Mills. When we are alone, Shannon remarks about looking at the baby on ultrasound. (So now even my wife is mocking the fact that I can’t make “heads or tails” of the image). When the doctor comes in he is relaxed and smiling. He casually flips through the chart and asks how Shannon is feeling. “Great,” she blurts out. He says that everything looks good and the baby is healthy and growing. “He is six and a half pounds right now." “If you go full term he would probably be nine pounds or better.”
Shannon expresses some concern over the size of the boy. The doctor responds by saying, “You should have taken that into consideration when you chose such a big man as the father of your baby.” (Touché Dr. Mills.) He then says not to worry. In a week or so he will be fully developed. There is no reason to go all the way to your original due date. “You could go into labor at any time.” In fact, he says we will be lucky to make it past Thanksgiving without him inducing labor. No reason to wait longer than we have to.
So, in just a few short weeks we will have a bouncing baby boy.
I need a nap.
Shannon had another doctor’s appointment and ultrasound yesterday. I took a late lunch and went with her to the doctor’s office. I have not been to the last couple of appointments and thought it was time I got an update on my progeny.
The appointment was at 2:00 PM. We arrived in the waiting room around 1:50. The place was empty except for a teenage girl and her mom. The mom had big, bleached hair and was wearing skin tight jeans. The shoes she had on were the kind designed to be worn while twirling around a pole. “I wonder which one is pregnant,” was my first thought.
Shannon signed in and I headed towards an uncomfortable chair. No sooner had I begun to thumb through a stack of old parenting magazines, when the door opened. “Shannon,” the nurse said. Wow, that was fast. I didn’t even have time to read an article about making your own organic baby food. (I always find it funny that the same magazines that promote a “greener” lifestyle also advertise $150 jeans for a two year old.)
So I follow my wife down the hallway towards the ultrasound room. “Is it okay if I give my urine sample first?” Shannon says. “I really need to go”. The ultrastenographer says that would be fine. “Just bring the cup in the ultrasound room when you are done so it won’t get mixed up with someone else’s sample,” she says. So, Shannon goes into the bathroom and I follow the young woman into the ultrasound room.
I am just sitting there patiently waiting for Shannon to finish in the bathroom. There is an uncomfortable silence. I am tempted to hop up on the table and ask her to scan my belly and see what’s in there. I make my way over to the “husband” chair. It is a small, hard folding chair, crammed in the corner. (Similar to the “husband” chairs found outside of department store women’s dressing rooms.) In a minute in two, Shannon walks in and promptly places a Dixie cup full of her urine on the counter just inches in front of me. “Hello, I’m sitting right here!” I think to myself.
My pregnant wife wrestles herself up on the exam table, lays back and pulls up her shirt to reveal her tummy. The ultrastenographer squirts a big wad of jelly on the summit of Mount Minninger. As she moves the wand back and forth across my wife’s midsection we all stare at the flickering screen. “There is the face and a leg and the heart” says the woman. “Oh, and he is definitely still a boy”. Exactly like the last two ultrasounds, I don’t recognize any of those fuzzy, grey shapes as actual body parts. “Look, you can see hair on his head!” she says. She is just making stuff up to torment me now.
We finish the ultrasound and the results are recorded in Shannon’s file. The nice lady shows us to another exam room to wait on Doctor Mills. When we are alone, Shannon remarks about looking at the baby on ultrasound. (So now even my wife is mocking the fact that I can’t make “heads or tails” of the image). When the doctor comes in he is relaxed and smiling. He casually flips through the chart and asks how Shannon is feeling. “Great,” she blurts out. He says that everything looks good and the baby is healthy and growing. “He is six and a half pounds right now." “If you go full term he would probably be nine pounds or better.”
Shannon expresses some concern over the size of the boy. The doctor responds by saying, “You should have taken that into consideration when you chose such a big man as the father of your baby.” (Touché Dr. Mills.) He then says not to worry. In a week or so he will be fully developed. There is no reason to go all the way to your original due date. “You could go into labor at any time.” In fact, he says we will be lucky to make it past Thanksgiving without him inducing labor. No reason to wait longer than we have to.
So, in just a few short weeks we will have a bouncing baby boy.
I need a nap.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Ignorance is Bliss
Shannon and I attended our Labor and Delivery Class at the hospital last Saturday morning. Because she is planning on having an epidural at the first sign of discomfort, Shannon and I elected to take the one day overview, as opposed to the five weeks' worth of Lamaze classes. The brief (seven hour) course is designed to let couples know what to expect during labor and delivery. We covered topics such as: how to tell when you are really in labor, where to go when you get to the hospital, and what will happen once you are there.
The class was scheduled from 8:30AM to 3:30PM. (Of course the Tennessee vs. Alabama football game kicked off at 12:30PM) We arrived right at 8:30 AM and the class promptly began at 8:45(ish). There were five other couples in class with us. One couple and one woman had been in our last class. They were Dagwood and Blondie and Single Mom. Single Mom’s husband, Absent Man was now wearing the disguise of his alter ego, Redneck Guy. The new couples were Rosie Perez and Baby Daddy, Young Girl and Sensitive Boy and Average Couple.
The instructor began by asking all of the couples to introduce themselves. Then we should tell how far along we are in the pregnancy and why we took the class. Baby Daddy, Redneck Guy, Dagwood and Average all said that their wives made them come. Sensitive Boy (with a tear in his eye and lip quivering) said he was there to show his wife love and support. I said that Shannon and I had spent so many years avoiding pregnancy that now that it has happened, we might as well know what we were in for.
The next question by the instructor was “How many of you planned your pregnancy?” We all raised our hands except Baby Daddy (big shocker). This was followed with a small lecture on staying healthy while pregnant. At some point all of the husbands were required to wear an empathy belly. For those of you who don’t know, an empathy belly is a weighted vest that men can put on to give them the “sense” of being pregnant. Because I am not a small man, it didn’t make much of an impression on me. I was already familiar with the concepts of breathlessness, and discomfort sitting, standing or bending over. Redneck Man said that he could understand how this condition could make it more difficult to mop or vacuum. How lucky is his wife?
I won’t bore you with all of the humdrum details of the class. I will only hit the highlights. The main attraction had to be the video tapes we watched. There was one of a natural birth, one of a woman who had an epidural and finally a film of a C-section. I had seen a version of these at least once before in school and on the Discovery Channel. My wife, on the other hand, had not.
The first video was of a natural childbirth. The film opens by introducing us to the couple who are having a baby. They are so happy about a natural childbirth. They even went for a hike in the woods before going to the hospital. Ahhhhhh how pleasant it must be. I think Sensitive Boy was already starting to cry.
Shannon is sitting to my left, almost behind me. She is holding my hand loosely and resting her head gently on my shoulder. The room is quiet except for the video. As the documentary progresses we see the woman experiencing labor. Hours of labor. Hours of moaning and groaning and pacing. My wife is no longer a casual observer. She is engrossed in the tape. Her head isn’t resting on my shoulder anymore... it's completely behind me. Her eyes wide, barely peeking over me. I know she doesn’t want to see what comes next, but she can’t turn away. None of us can.
What follows next is straight out of a horror movie. There is screaming. There is blood. We watch as the baby begins to crown and appear. “There is no way that baby will fit through there,” is what all the husbands were thinking. We were wrong. The mother screeches and strains. The pain and discomfort are obvious in her face. Just a few minutes later the tiny baby emerges followed by what looks like the woman’s internal organs. The umbilical cord is cut and the placenta is examined for damage. Our instructor mentions how we should also be aware of the unpleasant smells that will accompany delivery before she promptly turns off the VCR.
Stunned Silence.
Shannon whispers in my ear, “You had better be glad I didn’t see this before I got pregnant.”
Right after that the class took a break. I was standing in line for the Men’s Room pondering what our own labor and delivery would be like. “I hope Shannon is not too traumatized,” I was thinking. I realize that Redneck Guy is standing beside me. I look over and see that he is looking at me. “What did you think of the movie?” I say without thinking. “I figur it cayn’t be no worse than cleanin’ a gutshot deer,” he says back. “Good point” I reply. Then I turn back around.
We watched another movie where the woman had an epidural. Much smoother delivery and not as much painful drama. The only major concern during this video was that Shannon hates needles. This one was a pretty big one. (Good thing it will be in her back so she won’t have to look at it.) “So far, I’m not crazy about my choices for getting this baby out of me,” Shannon whispered in my ear. I didn’t know how to respond. I feel awful that she will have to experience such distress. By the time we got to the C-Section movie I was completely zoned out. The majority of the afternoon was taken up with relaxation and breathing exercises. (I admit that I took a little nap while we were lying on the floor.)
It was a very informative class. I am glad we attended. It’s good to be aware.
I think.
The class was scheduled from 8:30AM to 3:30PM. (Of course the Tennessee vs. Alabama football game kicked off at 12:30PM) We arrived right at 8:30 AM and the class promptly began at 8:45(ish). There were five other couples in class with us. One couple and one woman had been in our last class. They were Dagwood and Blondie and Single Mom. Single Mom’s husband, Absent Man was now wearing the disguise of his alter ego, Redneck Guy. The new couples were Rosie Perez and Baby Daddy, Young Girl and Sensitive Boy and Average Couple.
The instructor began by asking all of the couples to introduce themselves. Then we should tell how far along we are in the pregnancy and why we took the class. Baby Daddy, Redneck Guy, Dagwood and Average all said that their wives made them come. Sensitive Boy (with a tear in his eye and lip quivering) said he was there to show his wife love and support. I said that Shannon and I had spent so many years avoiding pregnancy that now that it has happened, we might as well know what we were in for.
The next question by the instructor was “How many of you planned your pregnancy?” We all raised our hands except Baby Daddy (big shocker). This was followed with a small lecture on staying healthy while pregnant. At some point all of the husbands were required to wear an empathy belly. For those of you who don’t know, an empathy belly is a weighted vest that men can put on to give them the “sense” of being pregnant. Because I am not a small man, it didn’t make much of an impression on me. I was already familiar with the concepts of breathlessness, and discomfort sitting, standing or bending over. Redneck Man said that he could understand how this condition could make it more difficult to mop or vacuum. How lucky is his wife?
I won’t bore you with all of the humdrum details of the class. I will only hit the highlights. The main attraction had to be the video tapes we watched. There was one of a natural birth, one of a woman who had an epidural and finally a film of a C-section. I had seen a version of these at least once before in school and on the Discovery Channel. My wife, on the other hand, had not.
The first video was of a natural childbirth. The film opens by introducing us to the couple who are having a baby. They are so happy about a natural childbirth. They even went for a hike in the woods before going to the hospital. Ahhhhhh how pleasant it must be. I think Sensitive Boy was already starting to cry.
Shannon is sitting to my left, almost behind me. She is holding my hand loosely and resting her head gently on my shoulder. The room is quiet except for the video. As the documentary progresses we see the woman experiencing labor. Hours of labor. Hours of moaning and groaning and pacing. My wife is no longer a casual observer. She is engrossed in the tape. Her head isn’t resting on my shoulder anymore... it's completely behind me. Her eyes wide, barely peeking over me. I know she doesn’t want to see what comes next, but she can’t turn away. None of us can.
What follows next is straight out of a horror movie. There is screaming. There is blood. We watch as the baby begins to crown and appear. “There is no way that baby will fit through there,” is what all the husbands were thinking. We were wrong. The mother screeches and strains. The pain and discomfort are obvious in her face. Just a few minutes later the tiny baby emerges followed by what looks like the woman’s internal organs. The umbilical cord is cut and the placenta is examined for damage. Our instructor mentions how we should also be aware of the unpleasant smells that will accompany delivery before she promptly turns off the VCR.
Stunned Silence.
Shannon whispers in my ear, “You had better be glad I didn’t see this before I got pregnant.”
Right after that the class took a break. I was standing in line for the Men’s Room pondering what our own labor and delivery would be like. “I hope Shannon is not too traumatized,” I was thinking. I realize that Redneck Guy is standing beside me. I look over and see that he is looking at me. “What did you think of the movie?” I say without thinking. “I figur it cayn’t be no worse than cleanin’ a gutshot deer,” he says back. “Good point” I reply. Then I turn back around.
We watched another movie where the woman had an epidural. Much smoother delivery and not as much painful drama. The only major concern during this video was that Shannon hates needles. This one was a pretty big one. (Good thing it will be in her back so she won’t have to look at it.) “So far, I’m not crazy about my choices for getting this baby out of me,” Shannon whispered in my ear. I didn’t know how to respond. I feel awful that she will have to experience such distress. By the time we got to the C-Section movie I was completely zoned out. The majority of the afternoon was taken up with relaxation and breathing exercises. (I admit that I took a little nap while we were lying on the floor.)
It was a very informative class. I am glad we attended. It’s good to be aware.
I think.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Watch Out Spielberg
I have never wanted to own a video camera, at least not since I have been an adult. I have had friends with camcorders who would tape anything and everything and I always wondered when they would get around to actually watching those tapes. I figured that the majority of my life was boring enough the first time around. Why would I want to see it again? Don’t get me wrong, I have had my share of exciting moments too, but for legal reasons, it is probably best there isn’t a video record of them.
Now that I am going to be a dad my views are changing. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of “home movie night”. My dad would hang a sheet on the wall and get out the movie projector. Mom would make a big bowl of popcorn. Carole, Suzanne and I would dig through the box of super 8 movie reels in the closet, each one of us picking out the film we wanted to see first. Even though we had watched the movies before we would always laugh at the sight of ourselves on camera. (If we ever wanted to feel like we were on a roller coaster we could always watch one of Grandma’s movies of a 4th of July parade.)
What really pushed me over the edge was when I was flipping channels on TV the other night. The remote quit working while I was mid flip and stopped on some channel. I don’t know if the battery was low or what, but I couldn’t move up or down using the remote. (What do you mean, “Get up and change the channel?”) Anyway, the show on the screen was America’s Funniest Home Videos. I’m not typically one for watching dumb people get whacked in the groin, but unless I moved from my reclined position, I was stuck.
Over the next several minutes I watched clip after clip of small children getting tripped, dunked and squirted. All to the delight of the studio audience. I thought to myself , “Man, those kids will be so embarrassed when they get older.” Just then a light bulb went off. I was thinking “my son deserves to be humiliated as much as any other boy.”
So, last weekend I found myself at Best Buy. Like most men I am drawn to electronic gadgets. I like the latest and greatest in thingamajigs. I don’t know much about video cameras so I did a very “unmanly” thing and asked for help from the sales girl. Her name was Sara. The conversation went like this.
“Hi, I am Sara” she said. “Do you have questions about video cameras?” I replied “yes.”
“Blah, blah, blah digital blah, blah battery life blah, blah,” said Sara. I just nodded. “Then there is blah, blah high definition blah, blah surround sound, blah, blah top of the line Sony” she spouted. “Wait…she said HD Sony?” “I’ll take it” were the next words that came out of my mouth. “Oh, and I have a coupon.” (My mom would have been proud.)
I am now the owner of a Sony camcorder. An expensive one. This kid better do some funny stuff.
Now that I am going to be a dad my views are changing. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of “home movie night”. My dad would hang a sheet on the wall and get out the movie projector. Mom would make a big bowl of popcorn. Carole, Suzanne and I would dig through the box of super 8 movie reels in the closet, each one of us picking out the film we wanted to see first. Even though we had watched the movies before we would always laugh at the sight of ourselves on camera. (If we ever wanted to feel like we were on a roller coaster we could always watch one of Grandma’s movies of a 4th of July parade.)
What really pushed me over the edge was when I was flipping channels on TV the other night. The remote quit working while I was mid flip and stopped on some channel. I don’t know if the battery was low or what, but I couldn’t move up or down using the remote. (What do you mean, “Get up and change the channel?”) Anyway, the show on the screen was America’s Funniest Home Videos. I’m not typically one for watching dumb people get whacked in the groin, but unless I moved from my reclined position, I was stuck.
Over the next several minutes I watched clip after clip of small children getting tripped, dunked and squirted. All to the delight of the studio audience. I thought to myself , “Man, those kids will be so embarrassed when they get older.” Just then a light bulb went off. I was thinking “my son deserves to be humiliated as much as any other boy.”
So, last weekend I found myself at Best Buy. Like most men I am drawn to electronic gadgets. I like the latest and greatest in thingamajigs. I don’t know much about video cameras so I did a very “unmanly” thing and asked for help from the sales girl. Her name was Sara. The conversation went like this.
“Hi, I am Sara” she said. “Do you have questions about video cameras?” I replied “yes.”
“Blah, blah, blah digital blah, blah battery life blah, blah,” said Sara. I just nodded. “Then there is blah, blah high definition blah, blah surround sound, blah, blah top of the line Sony” she spouted. “Wait…she said HD Sony?” “I’ll take it” were the next words that came out of my mouth. “Oh, and I have a coupon.” (My mom would have been proud.)
I am now the owner of a Sony camcorder. An expensive one. This kid better do some funny stuff.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Baby Training 101
We went to our first baby preparedness class last night. It was taught at a local hospital.
The class started at 6:30 in one of the hospital classrooms located on the labor and delivery floor.
Shannon and I arrived right at 6:30 and were greeted by the instructor. She was a nurse with many years of experience. I suspect her first delivery was assisting “Ol’ Doc Watson” in a log cabin by candlelight. (I could just picture her telling the “Paw” to boil some water and find clean sheets.)
Besides Shannon and I, there were just a few other people in the class. I don’t know their real names so I will refer to them by nicknames. There was K-Fed and Britney, Dagwood and Blondie and Single Mom. Single Mom wasn’t really single, she is just married to the super hero known as Absent Man. I was more than a little disappointed that we didn’t stand up and do introductions. I was hoping for a little insight into what they were thinking about having kids. Especially K-Fed with his facial piercings.
The class began with the instructor telling us how labor and delivery had changed so much since she began nursing. “In the old days,” she said, “the husband would drop the mother off in front of the hospital, park the car, and then wait in the lounge for one of the nurses to come out and tell him what was happening.” “Sounds reasonable,” I thought. I raised my hand and asked her why that had changed. She explained that during the 70’s and early 80’s some husbands “demanded” to be more involved. (Thanks gentlemen)
The next two hours were filled with helpful tips about caring for your newborn when you bring them home. Most of them were obvious. I took notes to make sure I did not forget the real important ones. For instance, :don’t shake the baby". It may seem like a good idea, but you shouldn’t do it. "Don’t let the baby use power tools." They are careless and waste a lot of lumber. "Don’t let the baby cook." They never follow the recipe and you end up eating bad food just to be polite.
I know this is an exaggeration, and most of the lecture was common sense, but I really did learn some useful information. I didn’t know that you shouldn’t give a baby a bath until their umbilical cord stump falls off. Even then, they don’t really need much of a scrubbing. I also had some concerns about trimming the babies nails. (Shannon says this will be my responsibility). I learned you can just bite them off while the baby is asleep. “Sweet Idea” I thought. I’ve had lots of practice biting my own nails. If nothing else, the class taught me that I am more prepared than I thought to care for a baby.
The class started at 6:30 in one of the hospital classrooms located on the labor and delivery floor.
Shannon and I arrived right at 6:30 and were greeted by the instructor. She was a nurse with many years of experience. I suspect her first delivery was assisting “Ol’ Doc Watson” in a log cabin by candlelight. (I could just picture her telling the “Paw” to boil some water and find clean sheets.)
Besides Shannon and I, there were just a few other people in the class. I don’t know their real names so I will refer to them by nicknames. There was K-Fed and Britney, Dagwood and Blondie and Single Mom. Single Mom wasn’t really single, she is just married to the super hero known as Absent Man. I was more than a little disappointed that we didn’t stand up and do introductions. I was hoping for a little insight into what they were thinking about having kids. Especially K-Fed with his facial piercings.
The class began with the instructor telling us how labor and delivery had changed so much since she began nursing. “In the old days,” she said, “the husband would drop the mother off in front of the hospital, park the car, and then wait in the lounge for one of the nurses to come out and tell him what was happening.” “Sounds reasonable,” I thought. I raised my hand and asked her why that had changed. She explained that during the 70’s and early 80’s some husbands “demanded” to be more involved. (Thanks gentlemen)
The next two hours were filled with helpful tips about caring for your newborn when you bring them home. Most of them were obvious. I took notes to make sure I did not forget the real important ones. For instance, :don’t shake the baby". It may seem like a good idea, but you shouldn’t do it. "Don’t let the baby use power tools." They are careless and waste a lot of lumber. "Don’t let the baby cook." They never follow the recipe and you end up eating bad food just to be polite.
I know this is an exaggeration, and most of the lecture was common sense, but I really did learn some useful information. I didn’t know that you shouldn’t give a baby a bath until their umbilical cord stump falls off. Even then, they don’t really need much of a scrubbing. I also had some concerns about trimming the babies nails. (Shannon says this will be my responsibility). I learned you can just bite them off while the baby is asleep. “Sweet Idea” I thought. I’ve had lots of practice biting my own nails. If nothing else, the class taught me that I am more prepared than I thought to care for a baby.
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