Baby Training Classes are Parent Training Classes

This weekend was packed with classes learning how to take care of a child and wifey when she is giving birth. I had SEVEN total hours of baby training classes over two days. My Saturday afternoon was filled with a FIVE HOUR "Birthing/Lamaze Class" and my Sunday was an "Infant CPR Class." Birthing Class was quite scary, watched an actual birth video (yikes!) and gathered all the need-to-know info for that special day. I may be able to just deliver this baby at home myself. I feel like I just got my Master's Degree in Child Delivery.

The CPR Class was a must-take. I almost died twice as a small child choking. My mother had to perform the Heimlich Maneuver twice to save my life. Luckily, she was successful and I blossomed into the magnificent specimen I am today. A specimen who never knows when to call it quits and keeps packing their mouth with chicken and not chewing until I self-suffocate. Thank the Lord for my wife to take over for mommy and remind me to chew. Everyone has flaws.

My wife and I would frequently share a nervous glance throughout the lecture/class. That day is now less than six weeks away! This will be the quickest six weeks of my entire life. It was definitely time to take these classes to prepare. I have to say, though, taking a five hour class on your Saturday afternoon just when it's starting to get to a temperature here that you can withstand longer than 10 minutes, is not a good idea. My ADD was flaring like my wife's nostrils when she has called me eight times because my food is getting cold. It's just an overload. So I strongly suggest taking the broken into two parts option. I'm just glad these classes were before football season kicks off because then my mind would definitely not have been there.

Wifey is understandably nervous terrified of the actual birth, especially after the class. They spoke about making small cuts, tearing, stretching, drawn-out pains, and all sorts of goodies. She was about to jump on my back like she saw a mouse. I am glad I am not a woman. I'll gladly take the fear of rejection of dating, financial obligation to pay during dates, and chance of prostate cancer over having my genitals torn every time I want to reproduce. The strength of a woman. I may be able to lift heavy things, but that is severely diminished by the ability to shoot a NFL regulation-sized football out of their body. My wife will never know of my intense admiration for her during the process because she doesn't read my blog. She'll let it go to her head anyway.

Baby Prep Classes No Waste Of Time!

My wife coaxed me into attending a Breast Feeding Class at St. David's Hospital this past Friday and oh my what an experience. To me it was pretty much the equivalent of when they send juvenile delinquents to the school of hard knocks aka prison, to get a dose of what they can expect if they continue their self destructive route. Except in this case if we continue, we get a beautiful blessing that will poop, pee, cry, flop, whine, hinder me from travel, prevent me from dinner dates with mommy, cause all sorts of financial strain, and then will grow up and stress my life when they start driving, dating, and head off the college causing more worry and financial strain. 

In the midst of all of this there will be a glimmer. A glimmer of why it was all worthwhile. A glimmer that displays love, warmth, inspiration, tenderness, anticipation, hope, devotion, and an undying affection. Many say that love at first sight doesn't exist, but I disagree. The moment I saw that floating bag of bones on the ultrasound screen, I instantly loved him more than any material possession or anyone I have ever met. Sorry antique blowtorch collection and sorry mom. 

I have no idea where I was going with this, but the excitement is building. These classes really bring to light a wealth of information that I didn't really think about. I thought you just kind of put the breast by the baby's mouth and they eat until they're done. I really didn't know what "engorgement" was, that you need to pump breast milk all the time, or that if you get drunk you have to drain a batch so the baby doesn't get drunk through the milk. These are important things that you don't give much thought to, because when you're baby is flopping around and his eyes are bobbing around like he's on a rollercoaster you start to regret skipping the breast feeding class. You probably shouldn't be handling a baby trying to feed it when you're drunk anyways.

I bet when you came to this blog, you didn't expect to hear my adventures with an education on breast feeding. But hey, I don't really care. This is probably the only blog on the internet that mixes real estate with breast feeding, pregnancy, and getting babies drunk through your breast milk. There are lots of young parents out there going through a pregnancy and interested in Austin real estate. I'm sure one day they'll stumble across this blog and think "Oh, perfect. I can read a first-hand account of a guy going through the exact same thing AND learn about the goings in a market! Hey honey, did you know the baby can get lit from drinking your spiked breast milk?!" Still have a couple classes including Lamaze class. Stay tuned!