The Registration

Registering for a wedding is easy. All you do is walk through a store and find all the things you need or want and put them on a list. Since I had already been living on my own when I got married, it was even easier, because I already had most of the things I Needed…. I guess I just needed stuff that “matched.”

Now Registering for your first baby is a scary and overwhelming proposition. It’s not jsu8t finding stuff that matches. I don’t know what kind of nipples to buy for the bottle. I don’t know what kind of stroller to get. I walk into Babies R Us and from my point of view it may as well be a CostCo for aliens. It’s just a warehouse full of stuff that I don’t know anything about. I mean, what is a burp rag?… Do I need two or do I need a doze? And, why can’t I just use a washcloth? Does it need to match the diaper bag and the crib, or not?

I don’t know.

I’ve been soliciting help from my new-mom friends. And it’s still confusing. What’s a Bjorn? Or a Snugli? What’s a Boppy? Does it help me or is it just something I hit myself or my child with?

I don’t know.

So I put my trust in others, to lead me down the right path. And if that path has Bundle Mes and Play Yards… then so be it. Because I sure don’t know what they are.

Little Girls

So according to the ultrasound doctor… those were “girl parts” we were looking at. I was happy either way with a girl or a boy. But the thing about a girl is - I’ve never been around little girls.

I grew up with a brother, a basketball coach father and my poor mom (who I think secretly wanted a girl at some point). I have a couple of girl cousins, but they lived on the other side of the country, and all my other cousins are boys. So, if conversation ever lagged, we could always throw rocks at stuff.

I’m a little intrigued and a little scared about he whole little girl experience.

I certainly pay attention to girls now, a lot more than I used to. And it’s not just an observation of “Oh that’s a cute little girl.” It’s more like “Okay, I sure see a lot of pink.” “Boy, she sure is chatty.” “That’s a lot of frilly stuff coming out of the handle bars of that bike.” “Oh look, those roller-blade knee pads of pictures of Arial on them.”

Everyone tells me I’m going to be a great dad to a little girl, but it sure is an adventure into the great unknown for me.

So hopefully I’ll have things to talk about with my little girl because I don’t think resorting to throwing rocks at stuff will work.

Lucky Me

Right now I consider myself fortunate.

When I first told my brother that Erica was pregnant, I got the requisite jokes about ‘Have fun with the mood swings. Have fun rubbing her tired swollen feet.‘ From what I understand, these jokes are really based on fact.

My coworker, Nika, told me how she was a raving lunatic during her pregnancy. To the point where a simple question about Christmas tree led to a screaming argument that ended with her standing in the doorway of her home while her husband went to work shouting, “YOU DID THIS TO ME!!”

And Nika is a calm, bright, intelligent person.

So, you can understand a little concern about the ensuing months when Erica told me she was pregnant. Yes, concerns with the hormonal fluctuations going on in my wife.

Now to my surprise and joy, Erica apparently has good birthin’ genes.

As a result, I haven’t had to deal with any kind of mood swings, swollen feet, crying, screaming, projectile vomiting or unreasonableness.

Erica has been a trooper though this whole thing. We still pretty much go about our daily business as usual. She’s the same delightful, sturdy, sing-a-long kind of a person, anyone would want next to them all of the time…just as she’s always been.

The First Day Of The Rest Of My Life

So there I was.

I was done with my jog and I was laying on the floor stretching. Because Erica works early, I’m used to mornings alone, just Ginger and me. So I was surprised to hear the garage door open and Erica pull her car in.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise,” I thought… I actually get to see my wife.

So I’m lying on the floor, Erica walks in, we say hello. As we talk about nothing,she has a tough time staying to any specific topic … it’s a bunch a rambling nonsense. A lot of “So… how was your day?” “So, what are you doing later?” “So, what do you want to do this weekend?” She also had a tendency to follow me around a bit. I’d go to the stairs to stretch, she’d be standing there talking to me. I’d go lay on the floor and she’d move next to me to talk to me. ‘I’m thinking: What’s her deal?” She also grinned a lot. Now, I was happy just to see my wife in the middle of the week, so I wasn’t passing too much judgment on her odd behavior… plus I’m kind of used to odd behavior from her.

So finally, she spills the beans. “Uhhhh…. I think I’m pregnant!”

I said, in my best matter of fact voice “Well… that’s exciting.” Apparently one pregnancy test had come up positive but the dog sort of interfered. So Erica was mostly sure.

Now the Hansen girls (Erica’s sisters) for the most part, are pretty fertile women so I didn’t have much doubt. Erica must have had some, because I came home to find a stack of positive pregnancy test with a little note that said “I guess you’re ‘gonna be a papa now!”

So the journey begins…