Kels and I started classes earlier this week with a really fun biologist-turned-doula who we're really glad is our teacher and is not going to be in the delivery room. I mean no disrespect- I'm sure she's awesome at her doula duties, but we're introverts and we like our space respected with sensitivity and she seems a little, um, intense. But the first class went well- we mostly covered early labor and when to relax, when to walk around and help the awesome kid work her way out, when to not freak out, when to go to the hospital and how to breath. Did you know that they don't teach lamaze anymore? Turns out the medical community found out moms were hyperventilating and they threw up their collective arms and said "our bad." Essentially. Which brings me back to my original point (yes, sometimes I have points, however feeble); how the crap are we supposed to know this stuff?
Well, clearly parents have made it on little information and even less sleep before, so I shouldn't be worried. I suppose I should stick to the things I do know, like mix tapes and rock band onesies, and leave learning all the other things up to grace and mutual dependence between Kelsey and myself. And parents and siblings who are eager to help, right?
And speaking of awesome onesies, Dave Coates (friend and writer, not the motorcycle stunt king. Google it) sent me the following text a few weeks ago: "Danny Glover just started a children's clothing line called 'I'm Getting Too Old for This Shirt.'" If only. That's the kind of celebrity endorsement I could get behind. Thanks, Dave. Now come back in December so you can meet your pseudo-niece.