Baby Mama drama

We saw a free sneak preview of BABY MAMA on Weds night. Since it was a sneak preview, it was first come first serve, and so since we were a little late we ended up sitting in the very first row (I didn't think we were gonna get in at all). Since nobody likes sitting in the front row at the movies, and since I've always been one for complaining about things I've received for free, I went up to the usher and said "Hey, my wife's 8 months pregnant, can we sit in those 2 empty handicapped seats?" And she gave me a hard time! Now I'm sure she is underpaid and angry, and probably has a protocol to follow of who you can allow to sit in the handicapped seats and who you can't, and how long you have to wait before you give up those seats, etc., but come on! We're at a movie about pregnant people, and you can't throw the real pregnant people a bone! So I played the mommy-daddy game (hopefully my kid will never find out about this strategy) and found another usher, asked her the same question, and she gave us the handicapped seats, which had ample legroom and a better view of the screen. Silversteins 1, Landmark Theaters 0.

BABY MAMA was all right, certainly not up there with other recent pregnancy comedies like JUNO and WAITRESS. Now that we've been through most of this process (except of course for the Big Hoo-rah), we've found that there is a lot of humor to be mined from the pregnancy experience, and BABY MAMA missed a lot of good opportunities. For example, they did have a few scenes set at a birthing class, and though a lot of jokes were on the money, they could have gone further with them. They also had the birthing instructor speak in a "mawwage is what bwings us togevewr today" accent, which was kinda dumb. Overall, eh.

The main reason why I'm blogging though is to further comment on Kim's last post, about twins. It is SO RIDICULOUS that people would ask us if we're having twins, considering:

a) it's common knowledge that women in general don't like to be referred to as fat; and
b) you'd think we'd know pretty early on if it was twins or not.

So you can imagine what it's like when some schmuck comes up to you and says "Wow you're really big in the belly! Are you sure it's not twins?" I'm not sure what the proper response to this is, but I'm guessing it's something along the lines of "Thanks. You're really big in the ass! And you're not even carrying a child inside of you! That's wonderful! You know now that you mention it, it might be twins. I mean, I've been going to the doctor about once every 2 weeks for the past 7 months now, and I've seen multiple ultrasounds, and all signs are pointing to one kid. However, I'm sure your expert opinion supersedes all that. Maybe my doctor and all the nurses and technicians I've worked with for over half a year have been really, really high when they were doing my checkups."

In non-baby news, does anyone want to buy our red couch? It's a really nice couch and we need to get rid of it before the baby comes. $325 and that's a bargain...

- Big Papi

How many?

It's not twins, okay? Just one baby in there. And no, not a couple more weeks. More like 6.

Who asks that? I'm not THAT huge!

Tummy Time

Pound for pound...I'm catching up to you Mike!

We took tummy pictures this past weekend...yes, WE. Mike posed for some too. And on the topic, our 4 year old friend Eva had a profound observation about my belly. She was blown away by my now flat belly button, and explained that the baby had kicked me so hard that my innie was now an outie! And believe me, the baby will keep kicking until the belly button flies off my stomach all together. That seems to be it's goal these days.

Other than that, all is good...nothing much new to report. Hospital tour - done (seems like a sweet set up). My weight gain is much better these past two weeks (as opposed to the alleged binge from the previous month), and in two weeks we get to see the little goober again at the last ultrasound. This weekend is the big furniture swap, where we move the bed out of the spare room and send it to Mark's new apartment while we replace a few other things (bookshelves, desk, etc) and start figure out where the kid is actually going to live. Which reminds me...does anyone reading this need a sofa? We're also swapping that out, and you can get a jump on it before it hits Craig's List. Let me know.

My take on the birthing class

Since I was so summarily insulted in Kim's last post, I will now give my thoughts on the birthing class (we have attended 3 of them now). The woman who runs it, Connie, is very hippy-dippy touchy-feely about the whole birth thing, and very pro-doulah, anti-drug. We have been told many times about how wonderful a doulah is and how a focus on breathing can get one through any amount of pain, but we really haven't been given the answers to questions like "what happens when my wife gets an epidural?" or "how will the birth be different with an epidural?" Cause I gotta believe that Kim is getting an epidural, especially after the "play through the pain" exercise we did last class which involved holding ice for 60 seconds. Kim was NOT happy about that, and something tells me that childbirth will be worse than holding ice for a minute. Connie tried to help Kim with the exercise by rubbing her shoulders, and Kim responded by yelling "Bitch get yo funky hands offa me!" Well at least that's what the look that Kim gave her said.

We do a lot of breathing exercises in the class, which I excel at (too bad I won't be having the baby). Some of them are kind of silly though, especially the one where you breathe by saying "hee, pa" repeatedly. Just try it. "Hee, pa, hee, pa, hee, pa..." I don't know what that's supposed to do except make us laugh, which we often do during the class. In fact I spend more time trying not to lose it during the class than I do focusing on my breathing, or helping Kim focusing on her breathing, which basically involves me standing there looking supportive. The worst example of this was when Kim had to go to the bathroom, and while she was gone we did an exercise involving the partner leaning against the wall and the woman leaning back into him, while the two gently rock back and forth. Since Kim wasn't there, I practiced with the pillow. I held it firmly but softly, and whispered to it, "Shh honey, you're doing great... Breathe, that's it, good pillow..." Wouldn't you know it, a little throw pillow popped out! We call it Fluffy.

I try to stay mature and professional during the class, but Connie gives us so many openings for ribald humor that it's very difficult to remain serious. Whenever she expounds on the advantages of the perineal massage (go look it up), Kim and I exchange looks. We also practiced one birthing position in which the woman goes on all fours and the man goes behind her and grips her butt. "That's how we got into this mess in the first place!" I muttered.

In the end it'll all be worth it for next week's class, which is the tour of the delivery rooms and maternity wing of the hospital. That I think will be very helpful. Not that the class has been a complete waste - I certainly have learned a lot and gained some new vocabulary, like perineal massage. It's the massage that keeps on giving!

- Mike