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The Real Good Luck Charlie, Chapter 2: Parenting 101

18 Sep

So Charlie, here we are, 1 month from when you have been scheduled to make an appearance.  If you are anything like your sister and brother, you will be a bit early.  This is also the LAST time you will ever be a bit early (again, if you are anything like you sister and brother).  We’ve been real busy getting to this point.  We’ve been organizing, cleaning, washing, installing, and putting things together all in preparation for your arrival.  We also took a birthing class at the hospital.  We did this with your sister 14 years ago, don’t think you’re special.  We do it for all the girls.  We skipped it for the boy.  He was, is, and always will be easier than you two.  About 20 minutes into the class, I had a thought:  What are they actually teaching us?  To tell you the truth, not much.  Rather, they did teach us quite a bit about what to expect during the birthing process.  What they didn’t teach us was ANYTHING about parenting.  Not that the boss or I need any help.  We’ve successfully kept 2 kids alive for 14 and 11 years.  Believe me, that’s no mean feat.  What about the new parents, who don’t have other kids that they figured things out with?  What will they do?  Wing it?  Read stupid books that doesn’t really tell you anything useful?  Probably.  Which led to a second thought:  Could I teach a Parenting 101 class?  Would it be successful?  Would people pay me for the privilege of having the boss and I tell them all the little secrets?

This led me to think about what I would want covered in a Parenting 101 class if there were such a thing.  Here are the basics of what I came up with:

The class would start off with the moms and dads to be in the same room.  We would go over the basics: feeding, diaper changing, clothes changes, what to pack, how to not ever get a mini-van (provided you stay with less than or equal to 3 kids), etc.

Then the men and women would split up.  The men would go with me, the women with your mother.  There the real learning would take place.  The men would learn things like speed diapering, how to hold a beer and feed a baby (and how not to mix them up), clothes wrangling, avoiding getting peed or pooped on, etc.  I guess the women would learn things like how to swaddle, baby powder 101, breast or bottle, couponing while dealing with a fussy baby, etc.

At some point, I suppose the women and men should trade places and go over the same things.

Then we would all come together for a conclusion of some sort, followed by a celebration of some sort.

What do you think?  Do you think people would participate?

As always, Good Luck Charlie, your dad is obviously insane.

What I believe is the first stupid thing I’ve ever done

11 May

The date is March 1983.  My mother is in labor about to pop out my brother.  I’m staying with friends nearby.  My friends just happen to be 8 and 6, 5 and 3 years older than I am.  They have an awesome room with two beds making an L shape.  They thought it would be awesome to jump from bed to bed.

The stupid part:

3 year old me thought I could join in and actually make it from bed to bed.  Sure I did make it.  A few times anyway.  Then I got stupid and jumped right after my friend had landed, compressing the bed.  I landed just as the bed rebounded, throwing me from the bed right into the corner of a metal night table.  I caught the table right in the eyebrow.

I still remember coming down their stairs and seeing nothing but red.  That’s the problem with head wounds.  They bleed.  A lot.  A. Fricken. Lot.  So for my brothers first day on earth, I joined him in the hospital after getting my eyebrow stitched together.  Once I took a good look at my little brother, I stated quite proudly, “I don’t want an Ian.  I wanted a Court-a-knee (Courtney).”  Under no circumstances did I ever want a baby brother.  I wanted a little sister.  That was the second stupid thing I had ever done.  With all the great times I’ve had with my brother, there’s no way I would have had as much fun with a little sister.  Brothers form a bond that no brother-sister relationship can touch.  Except maybe in remote parts of the Appalachians where brother-sister relationships are a completely different thing entirely.