Yep, that's right. We're certified experts now. Kristin and I sat through five grueling hours of a newborn care class at the hospital on Sunday. We learned critical facts such as: Don't shake the baby (does that mean rides in the sidecar are out?); fold the top of the diaper down to make room for the umbilical stump; the swaddle wrap; make sure the car seat is in tight; and don't mess with Ricky and Jen.
Holy cow did they make everyone uncomfortable. The nurse began explaining vaccines, and they got on their high horse about how the safety of the public health is B.S. and we don't want that done, blah, blah, blah. Kristin was a Papmpers Pro, and the guy next to her kept trying to cheat by looking at her technique. Either that or he's really hoping that the guys at the office don't see this photo. By the way, we were randomly assigned a boy doll, and the clothes had cars on them....
Today, we began decorating the tree a little late, so I was a bit shaky on the ladder. Too much egg nog I guess.... The tree got its trimmings, and we had our Christmas brownie (no cookie baking yet) while we kept an eye on the sleeping Lily. Kristin had a preview of coming sleepless nights today w
hen Lily woke her up around 3:00 a.m. with a gurgling belly. Up and down, outside and in. The poor puppy had a belly ache and couldn't settle down. Kristin tried to keep her in good spirits--she even made Lily some rice, but just as I was about to leave the house, the rice reversed course and I got my preview of coming attractions as I mopped up the barely digested grains and a bunch of grass she had eaten earlier.
Again, we're happy to report that everything is boring. We love that and hope to continue boring you with, "Everything's going well!" For at least the next 65 years.
1 comment:
First of all, the blog name. Perfect. Or nearly. There is no more evocative a track from our youth than this one to provide a name for your blog, except, possibly, "I'm Just a Bill," but we won't go there. However, there are about to be four of you. And congratulations.
While you consider yourselves newborn experts what you are actually about to become are POOP experts. Raising a child is not about the child, nor the toys, gadgets, geegaws or doodads, but the poop. In all its varied and colorful forms. Poop poop poop poop poop. For years: Poop.
Have fun with that. And the baby, too, naturally. Again, I say Congratulations. Stay tuned for word from Heather.
For more fun and games, check out http://toglacierandback.blogspot.com
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