Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Exploring New Worlds

That seems like a good title for a post on writing fiction.  Alas, what follows is a true and somewhat frightening tale of my new life.  Sometime soon, I will become a father, a change which requires forays into heretofore unknown territory.  Awhile back, we ventured into the baby store.  I had never been.  Didn't know they existed to such degree and had no idea the amount of stuff babies need.  Thank heavens they put everything on display to help me.  It was quite daunting for someone who not only didn't know anything, but who didn't know what it was I didn't know.  Did that make sense?  Let me try again. 

It's not that I didn't know the answers.  It's that I didn't know there were subjects about which questions existed that required answers.   If you're still confused, read the definition of froggered.

Well I sure was glad the people at the baby store put everything so clearly on display, because not knowing what one needs becomes a bit less challenging when they just show you that you need everything.  And we must because it was all there, bright and colorful at every turn.  Of course I'll need a new home to fit it all.  And a large garage.  And a warehouse.  Or perhaps they would let us take up residence in a small corner of the store.  This would add the convenience of having a baby photo studio right in our home, which, they (along with a few others) so helpfully informed me, is one more thing we need.  So while everyone may continue to tell us everything we need, and I will foolishly suggest we wait until we see whether we need it, I can relax in knowing it is readily available somewhere on the very high shelves of our new home, open to the public Mon thru Sat 9 - 9 and Sundays 11 - 6.

However, on the off chance they don't let us move into the store, a couple of days ago we went to a baby consignment sale.  I thought this unnecessary since we already had our own, never-been-used and still-in-the-original-package baby, but was pleasantly surprised to discover no infants with price tags.  Instead there was lots and lots of stuff.  Almost as much as the baby store, but more disturbing were the mommies.  They were all-too familiar with all this baby stuff and spoke a language neither I, nor Momma Sarcasm, understood.  We felt like strangers in a strange land.  Like explorers on an alien world.  How long had this society existed?  What were the customs and practices?  How does one adapt to their social norms?  And why were there so many super-sized drinks from McDonald's in the strollers'* cupholders?  Needless to say, we came home with more stuff we absolutely need.  Our house is beginning to look like the hillbilly neighbors', ready to burst at the seams.

At any rate, here is my child's foot, taken last week.  That is one mammoth big toe.  Not that we're expecting a pachyderm.  In fact, we don't know what we're having.  Well, a human, I expect, but we don't know the sex and have been pretty surprised no one has slipped up at any of these ultrasound appointments.  I've been diligent about telling them not to tell us.  Still, I can just see us making it to the last hour and some nurse walks in to the delivery room to congratulate us on our little girl.  Not that we think it's a girl, although Momma Sarcasm thinks there is a taco in this picture, but why would they give us a picture showing the goods when they know we don't want to know?  Still, we photoshopped the taco out, lest some smarmy blog reader, who actually knows what they're looking at, congratulates us on our little girl.  And if little girls' ultrasound bits actually do look like little tacos, do keep it to yourselves.

*Henceforth, strollers shall be referenced as prams.  That is what the British call them.  And I am worldly.


Ted Cross said...

Ah, I loved being a new father, and I really miss it. My sons are 13 and 11 now, so those days are long gone...

Best of luck to you!

Gemma Noon said...

ooh I remember that well... and I promise even if you are really good and selective about what you buy, you will still end up with reams of stuff that, a year later, you'll think, "how on earth was I gullible enough to buy that?" Not that you will listen to anyone, because none of us do. If we did, then there wouldn't be so many automated rockers, babywipe heaters, electric nappy bins or auto-mood soothers floating around on ebay...

Tara Tyler said...

congratulations on your little blob of joy =)

i'm sure everything will come out fine !

April said...

I met my husband when his daughter was 5, and we don't plan on having any of our own. So, I missed out on the fun of baby stuff. It's fun to hear about it through others like you, though! Such an exciting time, I'm sure! Scary...but exciting.

I will tell you one thing from what my husband has told me. He never thought of himself as a father. Not that he didn't want children, he just didn't really think about it, even while his wife was pregnant. Sure, he went through the motions of buying everything they needed, but it didn't fully hit him until he held his newborn baby girl for the first time. If he was prone to showing emotion, I'm sure he would have cried. But he said there's nothing like that moment - when it all hits you that this child is going to love you and rely on you and trust you like nothing and no one else.

Good luck, and I can't wait to read more!

Travener said...

Oh, yes, the house full of baby crap. (Literally as well as figuratively.) I remember it well. The only real MUST is one of those swing rocker chairs you can put the kid in so they fall asleep, giving you a half-hour break every now and then. It may seem uncharitable to so manipulate your child, but those little rest periods are like gold.

Still, there's no experience like being a parent. Nothing like a baby. Best of times.

Then they grow up.

MC Howe said...

Ted - 13 and 11 sound awesome. Those are the years when kids can do all kinds of things. I'm sure they cause all kinds of problems, but I'll take that too.

Gemma - I've never heard of babywipe heaters. Somehow I think it's plenty warm enough here in the tropics. But everything else, oh yes. Especially those swings. Everyone tells me to get the damn swing. See Trav's comment.

April - Funny thing what you said. You may not be aware we were planning to adopt from Korea before this baby sidelined everything. I was more than ready for that and felt like a Dad even though we didn't know if our Korean had even been conceived yet. With this one, not so much yet. I hope and expect it won't take long once I see and hold it.

Trav - Those damn swings. Everyone says we need one. But what if the kid hates it? Then I have an expensive, bulky and useless piece of equipment taking up precious space. I'll wait.

Tara - Thank you.

Dana Elmendorf said...

Tacos usually turn into hotdogs, just so you know. ;)