Black Friday

In anticipation of Black Friday, I scoured all week for cheap deals that were to be had. Initially, we had planned to buy a lot of baby stuff while the getting was good, but in the end, we never could get things together and figure out what we wanted to buy.

It’s too early to know whether we have a boy or girl, so it’s a bit difficult to buy clothes for the baby. Sure, we could have bought plain white, but who wants boring white when you can have cute little bunnies or dinosaurs printed on them. 

A lot of bigger supplies, like a stroller and tub, are being donated by her sister, who doesn’t have a need for them anymore. I’m sure there are a bunch of smaller knick-knacks that we could buy, but those can probably wait until closer to the birth.  

Not wanting to pass up some good deals, I finally settled on buying five books about parenting. Four were about discipline and one about helping babies sleep. It’s pretty obvious what I’m most concerned about when it comes to parenting.

I refuse to have an out-of-control kid. I think it’s embarrassing as a parent to have other parents and people gawking at you and your child as they have a meltdown in the middle of a store and all you can do is cast them awkward smiles and shrugs, hoping that there’s one kindhearted person in the crowd that sympathizes with what you’re going through.

But I think I’ve got a leg up on most parents. I’ve been teaching kids for 8 years now, and I figure that counts as 8 years of parenting. I think I know a thing or two about disciplining and managing kids. Most people think the hardest part of being a teacher is teaching. Teaching is actually the easiest part. The thing most teachers struggle with is classroom management. What do you do when your class gets out of control?

During my first year of teaching, I grappled with this. My time in graduate school didn’t prepare me for the chaos that would ensue in my classroom. It didn’t help that I also taught in a low socio-economic school where the students had no real proper upbringing from home.

I remember sitting in the classroom after work on some days and wondering what the heck I got myself into. I told myself that if I could get through my first year, I could get through anything in life. It was that tough. But I did get through it, along with every year that followed. 

In my humble opinion, I think I’ve managed quite well. I figure, if I can control 20 crazy kids, how hard can it be to control my one kid? But just to be on the safe side, it doesn’t hurt to read up on what other experts recommend and to re-watch episodes of Nanny 911.

Keep the Streak Alive

The wife just informed me that she pooped again this morning. That's two days in a row now. We've got a streak going!

Do You Believe in Miracles

Some instant messages sent by my wife:

Jessie: I pooped today.
Jessie: I am so happy.
Jessie: It made me feel better.

Sometimes the simplest acts can have the most profound impact. My side-splitting jokes and my earth-shattering news report didn’t amount to much when compared to her bowel movement, which hadn't paid her a visit in the last three days. 

All it took just a bit of poo to bring back some sunshine into my wife’s life. It was like reuniting her with an old friend. To this piece of poo, I am eternally grateful. Shall we adopt it as our second child?

Jessie's bowel movement was also responsible for an attitude change towards an old adversary of hers. That’s right…Steven Seagal! When we got home, Driven to Kill was on TV, and instead of her usual verbal rant, she actually happily sits down and watches the movie on her own free will. This whole event has made me start believing in miracles again.

Jean-Claude Van Awesomeness

Since yesterday’s joke didn’t seem to pick up your mood, maybe this next bit of awesome news will dropkick you out of funky town. I just read that movie and fighting legend, Jean-Claude Van Damme, has announced he is returning to his roots, ala Frank Duks, to fight in a kickboxing match with former Olympian Somluck Kamsing. 

Here’s a fine example of a role model I’d like my kids looking up to, besides Chuck, Seagal, and myself. Since the 1990’s, he’s been battling an addiction to cocaine and alcohol. Nobody’s perfect (except Chuck Norris) and that’s something I want my kids to understand about people. However, do you use that as a crutch and excuse, or do you use it as motivation to make yourself into a better person?

In his interview, Van Damme acknowledges his “rock and roll” lifestyle and regrets it. Obviously, I don’t want my kids looking up to or turning out to be junkies or alcoholics, and Van Damme realizes this, as he says he has a social responsibility to all the kids that have a Blood Sport or Kickboxer poster on their wall to right his wrongs. 

Whoa, wait a minute there. We’re in the new millennia now. Shouldn’t kids be hanging up posters of your more recent, blockbuster movies like The Hard Corps, The Shepherd: Border Patrol, or my personal favorite, Wake of Death? I’ll let this oversight of his slide. 

He goes on to say how this kickboxing match will show the kids that “they’ll fight in my heart.” That the parents who told their kids Van Damme is freaking awesome weren't wrong. The interview was actually quite touching. I admire people with this kind of quality. That never say die attitude. People who are down, but not out for the count. 

I want to instill this into our children. I believe I have that quality in me. The wife refers to it as stubbornness.

What do You Call an Italian Prositute?

In an attempt to break Jessie out of her funk, I tried a couple of jokes on her to get her to laugh. Here’s one.

Me: What do you call an Italian prostitute?
Jessie: I don’t know. What?
Me: A pastatute. Hahahaha!!

(silence)

Jessie: I don’t get it.
Me: Well, you see, Italians are famous for pasta and ‘pastatute’ is just a play on words for ‘prostitute.’
Jessie: Oh.
Me: Are you feeling any better now?
Jessie: No.

What's a Man to Do

Last night, I awoke to the sound of Jessie crying. Fearing what I thought to be another bad dream, I prepared myself for the beating I was about to receive. However, she starts saying how she can’t take being pregnant anymore; how it’s too hard on her mentally and physically.

She seems to be suffering from a form of depression that occurs during pregnancy, otherwise known as antepartum depression. About 10-20% of women will struggle with some symptoms of depression during pregnancy, and a quarter to half of these will suffer from major depression.

I try to comfort her by telling her that I know and understand what she’s going through. Obviously, she sees right through this and shoots back that I have no doggone idea what being pregnant is like. I readily admit this fact and say that she’s right, I don’t understand. This statement doesn’t help the situation much either. I ask her what I can do to make her feel better. The answer is, "absolutely nothing."

I ask if she’s mad at me. She says she’s not, but I can’t tell if she really means it or not. It’s like when women say it’s OK to watch the sports game, but secretly, they hope you keep the channel on America's Next Top Model. And when you don't, they get upset. How are men supposed to understand women when they never say what they mean?! I’m a baby expert, not a mind reader. But I checked again with her this morning, and she genuinely didn’t seem upset at me, just upset at the pregnancy. That’s a relief, at least for me.

I feel at a loss here. My wife is clearly depressed and in need of comfort and support, but I am in no position to offer it to her because I can't relate to what she’s experiencing, can’t pretend that I do, and nothing I do or say helps. To steal a quote from the movie, Dodgeball, I feel "as useful as a poopie-flavored lollipop." I suppose that’s why pregnant women band together. But what are expectant fathers supposed to do?  

My wealth of baby knowledge offers no help in these dire times. I can only hope that this is temporary moodiness.