Officially Freaked Out!

Nine to 5 is a way to make a living. Coincidently, it’s also the exact amount of time it takes to become totally freaked out about child birth. Please, let me explain.

Melissa and I spent the entire day (9-5) in a getting-ready-to-give-birth class.

That’s 8 hours of watching babies be born, with medication, without medication, and by caesarian section. Giant needles going in, catheters coming out. Vomiting, crying and nearly passing out and that’s just what I was doing. What was happening on screen was much worse.

And so much information, how do I keep it all straight? Do we go to the hospital when the contractions are 1 minute long and 5 minutes apart? Or 5 minutes long and 1 minute apart? An epidural makes you pain free, but makes labor longer? Isn’t it already like 30 hours? Ahhhhh!

People always talk about the miracle of birth. But as far as I can tell, the only miracle is that people have more than one child.

(Breathe. Hee, hee, hee… blow)

Ok. I’m better now.

It wasn’t all bad. Melissa spent half the class getting massaged. We learned some good hand, foot and back techniques. There were some breathing lessons (as demonstrated above) and even a group drawing activity where we drew a pregnant woman doing a handstand (please don’t try that at home).

One last thing I learned. I’ll take our boring pregnancy any day. I’ve jokingly complained about Melissa being boring, but after listening to these other women’s horror stories (one has been sick since week 4, another has been diagnosed with Leukemia) I won’t do it again. Instead, I will thank God for allowing us to have an easy pregnancy and hope for a smooth delivery.

Even if it freaks me out a little. Or a lot.

The Bee Gees are Lifesavers

It was called “Safe from Harm” but our latest class should have been called “How to Keep Your Baby Alive”. From what to do if you drop your baby, to dislodging a penny from their throat, we covered the gamut of childhood maladies… and honestly it was a little frightening. Turns out babies are pretty fragile.

Here are the 3 important things I learned:

1. The Bee Gee’s “Staying Alive” may actually keep my baby alive. Turns out, the beat of the disco classic is the exact pace you should give chest compressions during CPR. Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb lifesavers? Who knew?

2. Saturday or Sunday between 4-6 PM at grandma and grandpa’s house is the most dangerous place for the baby to be. Saturday & Sunday are statistically the most dangerous days, 4-6 the most dangerous hours and for whatever reasons a high percentage of childhood injuries have at the grandparents’ house. Do the math.

3. Maybe my parents were trying to kill me! First, I had the exact toy box used in the movie about what kind of toy boxes NOT to have. Second, they kept philodendrons all over the house, and it turns out philodendrons are poisonous. Third, they regularly kept me locked in a hot car with small, sharp objects. (Ok, I made that last part up, but the first two are true.)

Another topic we covered… SIDS. The experts recommend you put the baby to sleep on their back (the opposite of what our parents were taught). And they recommend a pacifier for sleeping (something about regulating breathing). If it keeps my baby alive, I’m all for it.

The strangest thing we learned: the extremes the teacher has taken to keep her kids from killing themselves. She has twin boys and said she taken everything out of their room. EVERYTHING! No dresser, no bookshelves, no pictures, just beds. She said they couldn’t be trusted with anything. I guess so.

All this makes me glad we’re only going to have one baby to keep track of… and keep alive. Now I'm off to buy The Bee Gee's Greatest Hits.

Why is this Elk wearing pajamas? You're guess is as good as mine, but it was outside of our classroom and I felt the need to share.

A Guest Blog: The Cleaning Crew/Babies R Us

(Special note: This is a guest blog by my lovely wife. You'll notice one thing about this blog... I'm not mentioned once. Not once. That means, one of two things... I either didn't help at all or I'm being phased out. You decide. Without further ado... the blogging stylings of a mom-to-be. Seriously, not once?!?!)

“Martha Stewart has nothing on us.” That’s what I was told about mid way through 8 loads of baby laundry, closet organization and bathroom cabinet organization this past Sunday… mind you by this point I was zapped of virtually all energy and I was sitting in a chair in the middle of the baby’s room. In addition my somewhat swollen feet were now propped up on my giant red sit-up ball -- the swelling may have had something to do with the 4 inch heels I insisted on wearing to the baby shower the previous day but this is the first and last time you’ll hear me admit that. In fact forget I said it. They’re great shoes I love them.

The self issued challenge of the domestic goddess Martha Stewart began from the moment southwest flight 1843 landed Friday night. My mom arrived in Sacramento for a weekend visit, mainly for the purpose of coming to a baby shower – but we both knew there would be no leisurely weekend sipping coffee and chatting – there was serious work to be done. With 8 weeks to go until the due date, organization was the name of the game. To get the full perspective of what I was in for, it should be said that my mom and Mr. Clean may have been related in a past life. I, while neat and orderly in my own mind, have nothing on my mom.    

Clean (Melissa), Cleaner (Melissa's Mom), Cleanest (Melissa's Grandma)

From the moment we woke up Saturday morning it was on! Appropriately colored bins were purchased for under the bathroom cabinet. Tags were removed and clothes of all sizes were sorted according to color to be properly washed with the $15 bottle of Dreft that we purchased (fyi – that’s the first and last bottle of Dreft we’re buying... scent free / dye free is all you need apparently. You can bet I won’t fall for that expensive scam again – I have shoes to buy after all!) Closets were organized and guest room blankets and pillows properly stored. Unnecessary items were discarded (my apologies to the trash collector this week – the bins are a bit heavier than usual!) 

That's not Babies R Us. That's our dining room table.

Our massive dining room table became the staging area for baby clothes sorting.  Everything was washed and properly folded according to size. We even got my cousin in on the action after the baby shower ended, she thought she was coming to visit for a few minutes, and we promptly put her to work. I’m thinking that after that, my grandparents can count her out for any more great-grandkids anytime soon. 

In between the organization extravaganza I was told our laundry room was in need of a little “light cleaning”. I think that was my mom’s way of politely telling me she was horrified that the dust bunnies appeared to be multiplying before her eyes in the laundry room. She tackled that tiny space with excitement. Clorox wipes, mops and more bins for proper organization were used. She even found time to hang some paintings in there that we’d had sitting on the floor. I have to say, I’m highly impressed! Who knew a laundry room could look so nice? Hopefully I can work on keeping things looking that way – at least for a while.

By the time Sunday night rolled around we were both exhausted (or at least my mom pretended to be for my sake) but we accomplished a ton, and I feel much more prepared for April. And yes after seeing all we did in just 48 hours, she might be right, Martha Stewart has nothing on us – at least not when I’m in my 4 inch heels. 

Baby Room Flashback

My mission was simple. Paint the baby’s room and put together the crib. I even had help from my dad and my friend Greg. It should have all been so easy… (cue flashback)

Thursday 1/28-

Melissa and I spend most of the night cleaning out the rest of the stuff from what will become the baby’s room. Unfortunately, the only place to put all the stuff is in the living room. It’s officially a disaster area.

Room is cleared out. Done and done.

Friday 1/29-

Melissa is out of town off to the baby shower in southern California. I’m on my own. The first thing I have to do is wait for the crib to be delivered. Surprisingly, it arrives pretty much on time. I take all the parts out and inspect them. Even glance over the directions. Everything looks in order.

Off to buy the paint, we settled on a color called Homestead Resort Taupe (this is important later). I’m pretty sure that’s a euphemism for light tan. I ask the lady behind the counter if one gallon will be enough for three walls. She assures me it will be.

Back home, I start prepping the room. I’m masking the baseboards when I hear a strange tearing noise. I walk out into the living room to find the dog eating the directions to the crib. Is this a sign?

Saturday 1/30-

Dad arrives just before 10 AM.  We enjoy our combined 10^th cup of coffee and it’s off to work. Greg joins us a little after 11.

We complete the big wall, most of the second wall… and have started on the third. Guess what?  We’re out of paint. Ok, I guess we’re off to Lowes… again.

This should have been easy. Just get another gallon of the same color paint. Except, they mix me a gallon of GREEN paint. Thankfully, they catch that before giving it too me.

Then the following conversation occurs.

Lowes Paint Guy: We no longer carry Homestead Resort Taupe.

Me: What?!?! I just bought that color last night.

Lowes Paint Guy: Really? It’s not in the computer.

At this point, not only do I find him the color card on the wall, but I go behind the counter and find the color for him on his computer. Turns out he’s not so good with “the reading” and “the alphabet”. I’m not judging, just saying.

Head home to finish the project. Dad starts painting the ceiling… um… we’re not painting the ceiling. Don’t tell Melissa.

Sunday 1/31-

After a trip to Babies R Us… Dad and I decide to put together the crib using the shreds of directions left by the dog. Turns out, it actually wasn’t that hard. A couple screws here, a nut there and it was all done.

Who needs directions?

(End flashback)

Overall, despite some minor bumps, the whole thing was pretty easy. Besides, what fun would it be without a few challenges.

The best part is there’s an envelope attached to the box spring of the crib to keep the half-eaten directions in for when we convert it to a bed. I can’t wait to get those out and re-live this entire experience.

Special thanks to my dad and Greg for helping me paint the room. It was a huge help.