Tool Time

Let me preface this next entry with statement of fact. I am not, have never been, and never will be what is considered a "Man's Man". I don't hunt. I don't fish. I don't shoot things, drive a pick-up truck, wear boots, spit tobacco, or have a belt buckle with my name on it. I don't say these things as an insult to anyone. But, I know who I am, and I am completely and perfectly at peace with it. Now, I mention this only because one of the prerequisites for being included in the fraternity of "Men's Men" is that you have to like (or pretend to like) building or assembling things. I hate building or assembling things....mainly for two reasons...I have no patience, and nothing, I mean nothing, ever goes together like it says. Which brings me to my point...the Changing Table from Hades.


First, who decided that there needed to be a table/dresser built for the sole purpose of changing a diaper on a baby? There are many things in life that people have that aren't necessary...televisions, a land line, an appendix, an opinion...and so on, but I think that this may just be the most useless idea ever introduced to mankind. And, while we are on the subject, the majority of the items sold for "babies" needs to be questioned. Basically, it comes down to this question, "Do we seriously need Babies R Us?" I know, I know...where would we register...

Anywho, back to the Changing Table from Hades. After being purchased (unbeknownst to me, though it wouldn't matter either way), it sat in the soon to be nursery for weeks collecting dust (much like it will most certainly do for the next 3-5 years). I knew it was there... my lovely wife knew that I knew it was there...but there it sat. (It should be noted that she tried to put it together but became stalled because the company doesn't believe in using actual words to help people assemble their useless product...only somewhat recognizable pictures and arrows that reference random pages throughout their picture book.) Eventually, it needed to be assembled, and being fans of games, my wife and I played out the fateful roles of dutiful wife and oblivious husband.

Fast forward a number of weeks to a peaceful Sunday afternoon of me taking in a baseball game from comfy confines of our overstuffed couch.  A consistent flash continually darted back and forth through the room. I tried to ignore it and continue with the baseball game, but eventually, curiosity got the best of me. I ambled toward the back of the house only to be welcomed by the complete contents of every closet between the family room and the back room covering the entire floor. It was if the closets had simultaneously thrown-up all over the hallway. The buzzing flash, which happened to be my wife, had evidently taken it upon herself to restore order to our house (I didn't know that we were out of order, but that shouldn't surprise anyone). Guilt ridden, I tried to return to the couch to watch for the conclusion of the game....I didn't make it.

It was high time the Changing Table from Hades and I had our showdown. To make this long story...less long, presently, the drawers won't close on our lopsided changing table, and my wife and I didn't speak for an hour. The point you ask of this overwritten drivel, is that expectant families do not need all of this stuff...baby baths (we called them sinks as a kid), burping rags (old socks?), changing tables (here's an idea, how's the floor?), so on and so on... I believe it is time to collectively rise up and tell these experts that force-feed us with fear that WE DON'T NEED ALL OF YOUR JUNK! Wait,......yes hon? OK. Gotta go. Evidently, we need more onesies!?!?  What the heck is a onesie and why would we need more than one?

Fear Factor

As we go this process, there is one thing that continues to shock me. I do not fully comprehend why we don't see more expectant mothers with a cocktail or chardonnay in their hands. Now, don't get me wrong. I am not saying that pregnant women should be going out and hammering back shots of cheap tequila on a Friday night, and I am not even saying that these women should be drinking at all. My point is that there are so many "experts" with so much “advice” I am surprised that it doesn't drive these poor women en masse to the bottle! Let's look at the evidence. The following is a shortened list of the things that expecting mothers either should or shouldn't do regardless of fact or fiction....


Do not eat eggs, sushi, some juice, some fish, soft cheese, caffeine, deli meats...basically eat rice and drink water.

Do not take a bath....ummm gross?

Don't lift arms over your head.

Avoid reptiles.

Don't drink tap water.

Avoid herpes. (isn’t this rule applicable to all?)

Do know if you’re immune to German measles. (How does one go about this?)

Do get exercise.

Keep your body temperature down.

Eat healthy (but get plenty of fat and cholesterol) but eat healthy....?

Avoid thinking negative.

Avoid stress.

So, if you see stress, immediately turn the other way and run...oops, don't run...walk quickly...wait, avoid raising your body temperature.....ok, turn the other way, close your eyes! While doing this, trust that no one throws an egg at you (but if they do, keep your arms down while trying to block it), pray that rain water doesn't fall into your mouth and that no one with German measles or herpes strolls by (which they probably won't because you haven't taken a bath in 8 months), and hope a reptile doesn't make its way to you....but do ALL of this while thinking positive!

Geesh! I need a drink!

Final Countdown

The countdown has officially begun.....26 days until school is out! Oh, there are also 27 days until the reign of Baby begins. Up until this point, there have been few countdowns that have captivated my attention like this particular countdown. The countdown for graduating high school barely registered a blip on my radar. I was so disturbed by the Y2K craze that on Dec. 31st, I rushed out to the local Wal-Mart and invested heavily in a case of Sam's Choice water ($3.27) and then proceeded to fall asleep on the couch at 10:30. However, the countdown of the last few months has completely enveloped me...followed by total denial. The denial days are quickly dwindling. Let me quickly catch you up to speed...

Septemberish - "Oh my gosh...I think I am pregnant," says lovely wife. Whoa...that's cool! replies "completely unsure of what this means for me now" husband.

October - February - Random doctor visits. Completely awesome wife handling the overwhelming changes to body like a champ. Husband (blissfully ignorant of the complete chaos that is about to crash down upon his, up to this point, delightful existence) continues to go about his day with very few changes.

March - Husband feels baby kick, and everything becomes much more real....followed by the realization that due date isn't until May...."plenty of time..." Continues blissful ignorance.

Baby delivery classes - What the heck?!?!?! How do these videos help anyone? I now know one thing for sure....I am getting the epidural, and I don't care if it inhibits my ability to latch...and what does that even mean?

April- Baby showers, strollers, changing tables (are these really necessary?), cribs, car seats, burping rags?, big plastic balls that suck air and supposedly go into baby's nose, and.... most disturbing of all, people...tons of people...friends, colleagues, family, acquantances, neighbors, my barber's mother's gardner...basically everyone approaching me with a devilish grin that says, I am going to absolutely enjoy watching you turn into a steamy pile of sleepless goo over the next few months while verbally saying, "Are you getting excited?"

April 22nd - Fear!

Til' next time...