COLUMN: Expedient pointers for expecting papas
I found myself at the grocery store on the feminine hygiene row a couple of months ago, staring at the home pregnancy tests.
This is a defining point in any male’s life, but for me it meant trying to remember all of those lessons that I have learned during my wife’s first two pregnancies.
Rule One: The answer to the question, “Do you think I look fat?” is not “Of course, but I’d rather have a fatter you than Roseanne Bar any day.”
Rule Two: When your wife is throwing up everything she ate the night before, don’t look over her shoulder and yell, “See, I knew you ate my Snickers bar and my bag of Cheetos, too.”
Rule Three: If your wife is craving a chili-dog from Bob’s Wieners and Franks 200 miles away – go get it! You’ll never hear the end if you don’t and you’ll get a much-needed break from her in the process.
Rule Four: When your wife comes home with her new maternity outfit, don’t make the mistake of saying, “What a lovely new tent.”
Rule Five: Never turn down an opportunity to make love. It may be your last chance before you are too old to care.
Rule Six: Avoid any science fiction movies where any small creature that’s been implanted inside a human body slowly pushes its way out of their stomach, tearing flesh and spurting bodily fluids as it breaks free; screeching at its arrival into the world. OK, perhaps I went a little too far on that one.
Rule Seven: Never climb on top of your wife’s belly, plant a flag and announce that you claim this continent for repressed men everywhere.
Rule Eight: During labor, never tell your wife that all of her yelling and screaming is “really ruining the mood for you.”
Rule Nine: No matter how thirsty you are or if there is nothing else to drink in miles, do not even think about the freshly pumped breast milk in the bottle. I promise, you’ll regret it.
Rule 10: When the baby has finally come and all the family and friends have visited, leaving behind a cornucopia of flowers, balloons, little clothes, cards and diaper wipes and things have finally become quiet; remember to lean down and kiss your wife softly on the cheek and tell her you love her.
Then, and only then, will you know that all the stretch marks, nursing pads and the tag-teaming for the crying baby throughout the night will all be OK, because life is about the simple, happy moments when your newborn baby cracks its first smile and laughs its first giggle.
Bryce Casselman’s column runs every two weeks in the Encore section. E-mail him with comments at yanobi@hotmail.com