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This is the best music video ever made. Watch out for the nekkid ass!


These are Riley's "clammin'" boots. For when he's, you know, born. And walking. And apparently into digging clams.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

One of the biggest strengths JB and I have as a couple is our similar sense of humor. We like to make each other laugh, so we spend a lot of time goofing around and generally acting like massive dorks. A shared love of the funny makes a pretty solid foundation for marriage, really.

While we are not incapable of sitting around exchanging witty, sophisticated turns of phrase with one another ("darling, how droll!"), our jokes are most often of the variety which you might charitably describe as, well, adolescent. A lot of blowjob-related banter, if you will. Which I suppose is fine behind closed doors, but not so great when you're in public.

Say, at a childbirthing class. You know, for instance.

Last night was our second class, and we'd gone around the room discussing what we'd learned last week (JB: "I thought the knitted hat thing was real interesting as far as understanding how the contractions work." Instructor: "That was supposed to be a uterus, not a hat!" JB, to me later: "Well, you totally could have worn it as a hat."), we'd reviewed some relaxation techniques, and we'd discussed what to pack in our labor bags.

Then the instructor pulled out a large collection of naughty-looking massagers. "This one works really well on the back," she told the class, wielding a vaguely bone-shaped pink plastic doohickey with tiny spines all over it. I slid my gaze to JB, who was waggling his eyebrows at me suggestively. "And this one is great for the neck," she went on, and out came a rounded object with bulbous protuberances. A tiny snort escaped from JB, and I bit my tongue. When she showed us a sock filled with tennis balls, I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't begin to tell you what might be porny about the way it looked, except that it just DID, somehow, and also maybe it was the term "balls in a sock".

I tried to remind myself that we were being taught how to manage the BIRTH OF OUR FIRSTBORN CHILD, but as soon as I had myself under control, we were instructed to try out a labor position. Specifically, a position that required JB to sit in a chair, and for me to kneel in front of him on a pillow, my head buried in his lap.

"This is a wonderful position to massage her back and shoulders, dads!" sang out the instructor.

I couldn't help myself, I swear to god. "It's also a wonderful position to smoke some pole," I whispered to JB, who camouflaged a bark of laughter with a brisk coughing fit.

I won't even go into the details of the second labor position, the one that had me kneeling and leaning on the chair while JB kneeled directly behind me and, snerk, lifted my hips (to alleviate back pain, apparently), except that he murmured some very bad things in my ear while doing so, including the word "piledriver", and I was extremely grateful for the pillow under my face, because it did a bang-up job of muffling the fact that I was pretty much laughing like a deranged hyena at that point, and thank GOD that was the last part of class.

I don't mean to imply that neither of us paid any attention to what was being taught; we weren't really sitting in the back of the room the whole time going "She said PERINEUM, haw haw HAW!", but obviously, our collective maturity level had reached a new low. I'm just glad I wasn't the only one, and that's one of the reasons JB and I make such a great team: we're jackasses, pure and simple.

Anal-probe-massagers and Kama Sutra labor positions aside, I feel like the class is really useful, we're getting some good information. If you'd asked me a few months ago what kind of birth I wanted, I'm sure my answer would have been along the lines of "an epidural drip starting in the 7th month, unless there's something stronger? Like maybe a spinal block?". Now, I feel differently - the more I understand about the birth process, the more interest I have in seeing how far I can go without medication. The more knowledge I have, the better chance I have at overcoming fear, which to me seems like the bigger obstacle. Pain sucks, for sure, and I have no previous experience with excruciating pain that last for hours on end, but having fear AND pain together is what seems unmanageable. I'm hoping that if I can minimize one, I can handle the other.

However, I am definitely giving myself permission to beg shamelessly for the giant needle if need be. After all, I might strive for self-discipline...but my track record really isn't all that great. And sometimes, there's only so much a sock full of balls can do.




If you're wondering whether it is at all possible to take a decent picture of this room, the answer would be no.

This thing projects colored lights around the room, as does our "Aquarium Wonders" mobile. The child will doubtlessly become a Grateful Dead fan.

Note the various stuffed animals with TENTACLES.

Maternity wear makes you do funny things. Like wear something that's really, really green.

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