Thus begin the Ramblings of an Expectant Dad

Writing is cheaper than therapy and I've had copious amounts of caffeine today.

 

(Oh crap.)

 

Yup. So, I know I haven't blogged as often this year as perhaps I have in years past. Be it a fuller social/home schedule, stress of work and workload, general lack of inspiration, or whatever other reasons, I just haven't been writing. I suspect that's going to change in the coming months and year or so ahead, as I experience a major life change with my anticipated candidacy for President of the United States.

 

(Yay! Congrat… wait, what??)

 

I jest of course, but I'd make a very great president, the best president, believe me. Think about it – instead of a border wall, I'd have a border ball crawl. If you can get through that, you deserve to be here. Make immigration fun again!

 

(There is something seriously wrong with you.)

 

Oh, my dear parenthetical heckler, this, I know. Alas, I am not running for president. I am, of course, referring to my pending parenthood. In just about five months my progeny will emerge into this world and I, like ninety-seven and three quarters of one tenth of eleventeen percent of people won't have the first clue as to what I'm doing rearing another human being. And I will loathe that miniscule percentage of people, probably named something like Janet and Ned, who spent the entire nine months of the pregnancy reading every treatise on child care available and will actually know everything about anything infant-related. Dammit, Janet!

 

Regardless…. My betrothed and I took a few more, progressive steps on our forward journey this weekend when we ventured forth into infant commercialism for the purposes of creating our baby registry.

 

Dear. Sweet. Crapping. Cripes. On. A. Cracker.

 

(Crapping cripes on a… Where the hell do you come up with this stuff???)

 

It's a gift. But, I mean… Have you ever been to a baby store? It's a Home Depot-sized warehouse full of every baby and toddler product imaginable. IMAGINABLE. There are like seventeen different mirrors you can get for your car to see the baby in the back seat; at least four dozen types of pacifiers; and the wraps! Swaddling wraps! Breastfeeding wraps! Waddling and toddling wraps! Wraps to wrap your wrap in when you're not wrapping! Bouncers and walkers and strollers and gigglers and wigglers and…

 

*wipes brow*

 

Holy shit, man.

 

(Welcome to parenthood.)

 

Seriously. It's overwhelming. Did you know that there are about a gazillion types of diapers? I'm sure you probably did. I thought I knew. Oh boy and how, did I not know. And don't get me started on the notion of asking other people to buy us what are essentially wearable trash bags for my child's bodily expulsions.

 

(A strange notion, indeed.)

 

Now I exaggerate and jest, to some extent. This ain't my first trip 'round ye old, recently eclipsed ball o' flaming gas. This, the newness of life, however, is a fresh one for me, and learning about everything, including the material paraphernalia that comes with it? Whoa.

 

Put it this way – I saw a stroller that cost more than I paid for my first car. A stroller. That cost more. Than an AUTOMOBILE. Now granted I bought my first car twenty, wait, almost thirty…

 

*ahem*

 

Never mind when I bought my first car. But still. A twenty pound mass of aluminum alloy tubes and nylon costs more than a full-size motor carriage. But I can take the baby for a run with me on dirt trails, so, you know, I got that going for me.

 

I guess, having never been through this part of parenting before, I'm experiencing a little sticker shock. Four things, all essential for safely transporting my child, consisting of a car seat, extra car seat base for a second vehicle, stroller, and adapter to connect the car seat to the stroller, summed in at near one thousand dollars.

 

*blink blink*

 

Hot holy flaming cheese snacks. I think I'm equally amazed at the extensivity of available products out there.

 

(Extensivity? I hate when you make up words that actually make sense.)

 

Again, it's a gift. Anywoos… If you asked me if I'd ever need a specific thing on which to dry bottles, I would have thought I could just use a normal drying rack. If you'd queried whether I would ever purchase a spa tub for my infant, I would have told you absolutely, indubitably, yes.

 

(Haha… wait, I honestly didn't think you'd say that.)

 

I know. And I really wouldn't buy that, but still… it's kinda neat. I mean, it's a spa. For your baby. How cool is that? And I just found out today there are wipe warmers! That warm your wipes! Because no baby likes a cold wipe on its wahoo.

 

(Sweet jeebus, it's gonna be a long couple of years.)

 

 You have no idea. But then again, you've been reading this blog this long already, so you probably have a pretty gosh darn good idea, actually. The nice thing is that we have many, wonderful friends who are steering us in the right direction so that we don't ask for or purchase items we simply don't need, or that others have found unnecessary and/or impractical. Like that $210 automated baby rocker with four different sweeping motions and music and remote control and built in wifi and Netflix.

 

(I… don’t think that's real.)

 

Pretty close. It just doesn't have Netflix. True story. I'm holding out for next year's model, that probably comes with Uber or something. But sweepin' sweet cakes, some of this stuff is insane. Some of it is essential, granted. Like burp cloths, musical mobiles, and of course, the Jeep-brand diaper bag for dad.

 

(Of course you went there.)

 

Of course, of course I did. Would you expect otherwise? I mean, it has an insulated bottle compartment and multiple pockets. And it's Jeep. It had me at Jeep.

 

Yessir, registering for a baby was certainly eye opening. As, I'll wager, will be about ten thousand other things to come in the following months and years ahead. There are so many things, so many questions I've never even contemplated pondering until know. Example: going back to the eclipse – we all knew enough to not look directly into the sun. Well, most of us knew that, anyway… coughcoughlookinatyouTrumpcoughcough…  But how do you stop an infant who is barely cognizant of its own toes from peering skyward? These are the things I think about.

 

(You're going to overthink this entire parenthood thing, aren't you?)

 

In the early stages, I'm sure. But just think of all the entertainment you're going to get out of this.

 

(Point taken. Carry on.)

 

In the meantime, I'm gonna go compare monitors. I have my eye on a dual camera, 5" widescreen video monitor with infrared night vision, wifi, two-way radio and mobile app. It only costs half as much as I paid for my first car…. But I can see the baby from anywhere, everywhere, always. And wonder if it's breathing alright. Did I hear a sneeze? Wait, was that a cough? Hiccups???

 

Who knew parenting would be so hard? Okay, everyone, literally everyone knew that. And I knew it too… it just, you know, wasn't MY parenting. It wasn't my kid. Life changes forever, that's what they say. They were right on this one. Those they can be pretty smart sometimes. Of course, they also say you shouldn't over indulge on pizza, and that's a bunch of horse hockey, so, you know, grain of salt and all that.

 

T-minus five months. I better put the baby bjorn on the registry. I don't know what it is, but it sounds cool, and it's Swedish, so it has to be awesome. Like its namesake.

 

(Namesake? What do you me… WAIT. Never mind. I don't want to kn—)

 

Bjorn Ulveaus, of course. And you know who he is…

 

(Please don't …)

 

I'll give you a hint. He wrote songs. But I don't think you want me to tell you. However… if you change your mind, I'm the first in line. Honey, I'm still free…

 

(Take a chance on me… DAMMIT! ABBA? Really?)

 

You're welcome. Now go check out our baby registry. This Baby-Bum Fan isn't going to buy itself.

 

 

 

© 2017 J.J. Goodman. All rights reserved.