It was windy around here last night. It's frequently breezy here in the fall. That's one of the things about living in the Central Valley. There isn't much to stop it. But I'm not talking about the usual let's-go-fly-a-kite little autumn gust. Not today anyway. I'm talking about 25-35 mph winds. Technically the wind could be ticketed for speeding in my little residential neighborhood. Listening to it in bed last night, I was half expecting to wake up in Oz. It had the crack under the front door whistling like a tea kettle all night long, I kid you not.
My alarm went off at 7 a.m. and I about threw it out the window. I called in to the office and then rolled over and went back to bed for 3 hours. That's one of the benefits of being pregnant. One can regally announce that the baby needs rest or a break or a stretch or a banana milkshake and blow off all other responsibilities to acquire said necessity.
Shawn and I attended a "Baby Care Class" last night as part of our series on childbirth. What a joke. We received practical demonstrations on how to diaper and swaddle a baby, and then spent 2.5 hours sitting in plastic lawn chairs listening to conflicting advice and receiving handouts that were photocopied out of books I already had. I feel bad for the parents in that room who have never actually changed a diaper before, because they're going to come home from the hospital with their infants thinking that this process is like putting pampers on Cabbage Patch Kid.
Expectant parents out there: if you feel ill-prepared I can recommend some books that you can read from the comfort of your own nursery rocking chair with your feet up and your banana milkshake close at hand. A much more comfortable and informative experience. And honestly, this isn't rocket science. Our parents all managed it and we survived the process well enough to turn around and reproduce ourselves. Scary as it may seem, you'll figure it out, and so will I.