Monday, September 17, 2007

Showers and whathaveyou

So, after all the buildup, the shower was fine. I’ve realized that I really hate baby shower games, but it was what I was expecting. My poor aunt is only about a month further along than I am, and a full four years younger (and was about 50 pounds lighter than I in pre-pregnancy times), and she looks miserable. She’s put on more than 50 pounds since she got pregnant, and makes me look like I just ate a big meal rather than housing a 7-month-old fetus. Sheesh. Next time I complain that I feel enormous; you are all to remind me that it could be much, much worse.

I guess it used to be standard practice for women to stop working once they got pregnant, or once they hit the third trimester. But, people keep asking me if I’m still working, and it just seems like the dumbest question ever. If I weren’t working, what would I be doing all day? The kid isn’t here, the cats pretty much amuse themselves all day, and honestly, how hard is it to purchase baby stuff? Why in the name of all things holy would someone who isn’t on bed rest stop working this early? Hell, I know all I would do is alternately lay on the couch, and obsessively clean things that don’t need it.

Of course, my SG laments that my aunt is still working. Umm, what else should she be doing? They don’t have a ton of money, so they really do need her income, and she gets almost no exercise as it is. If she didn’t have to leave the house 3 days a week, she’d probably lay on the couch in her pajamas all day. I guess some people deal with stress differently, but it just seems weird. (Of course, bear in mind that SG has been saying the same thing since my aunt got pregnant. Yeah, because working 3 days a week, for three weeks at a stretch is just TOO MUCH!) It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t work throughout the whole damned gestational period. And unless your job is dangerous to fetuses, or you have some medical issues, what good is it to stay home all day? Sounds like the perfect storm for depression to me.

But, the shower did give my family an excuse to come play, which was lovely. Mom, sister Kat and I all went to the shower, while my dad and Xtian went to a baseball game together. That was pretty cool. Xtian actually came up with the idea, and put the whole thing together, because *gasp* he LIKES spending time with my dad. (Speaking of in laws, my MIL’s birthday was last week. After getting Xtian to promise that he wouldn’t sign my name on the card, we went to pick out a gift for her. We’ve decided to mirror the insanity/retardedness of her own gifts back at her. So, the gift: a dvd of Snakes On A Plane. Fan-fucking-tastic.)

At the shower, one of the women there had her 4-month-old little boy with her. This kid was a dreamboat. In a room filled with 15 women and a handful of kids, he sat, and smiled and cooed and amused himself in the bouncy seat for hours. He let every woman there hold him, and only got fussy when he was desperate to eat, three and half hours later. After all the horror stories people share with me, it was really nice to spend some time with a really good baby. I’ve been having les and less patience with children lately, so it was a big relief to find myself completely smitten with this kid. (Shit, who wants to be a parent when you hate kids? But, then again, they are other people’s kids. And as my lady friend Jen always reminds me: Other people’s kids, you can’t live with ‘em, and you can’t kill ‘em.)

But, anyhow, again, I really hate traditional baby showers. Wedding showers are fun, because it’s usually a bunch of grown women, being silly and making bawdy jokes while the bride opens lingerie. (Witness: my mother, her sister and her best friend making the Mormon ladies blush at my shower. “That’ll look good on….for about three seconds!”) But at baby showers, it’s just all that same ooh and awe crap that I don’t really get into. Women at work who try to get all sentimental with me over babies look at me like I’m psychotic when I try to explain that I’m just not that guy. Yes, I’m thrilled to be having this kid, and yes, I can’t wait to meet MC. But I’m not the matching layette in the perfectly appointed room, themed outfit kind of girl. Why would I want to see the same disbelieving confusion on twenty faces all at once?

I think baby showers require booze, and maybe some testosterone. Sure, I can’t drink, but that doesn’t mean YOU can’t drink. How about a party, with real games like drinking Jenga and Catchphrase? Eh? Am I just a cynical old cow here?

And it’s Monday, which means…Birthing Class Time! Let’s hope the Class Hole sits across the room again. He’s much more pleasant when I can’t smell him, or hear his cheesy comments.

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