I’d like to give a warm-n-hearty thanks to everyone who, over the past few weeks, has made me feel even more anxious and unprepared for our kid’s arrival by asking questions about our intended parenting style or if we’ve picked out a pediatrician or if we’ve finished reading the entire child-rearing section of Borders. Extra credit goes to the person who actually said “oh dear God” when I told them that the only book I was reading was about the actual pregnancy.

Well, pardon me, but if you’ll all just let me finish feeling nervous and inadequate about being pregnant, I promise to graduate to feeling nervous and inadequate about being a parent just as soon as possible! Thanks!

As a little teaser, here’s what our intended parenting style is: we’ll figure it the fuck out as we go along. And, correct me if I’m wrong here, but there’s very little “style” involved in providing a non-recalled crib, diapers, proper vaccinations and two breasts to your newborn baby. Also, it’s not like he’s crying because you won’t let him borrow the car… now, I’m no expert, but it’s my understanding that we’ve got a few years before the manipulative waterworks begin. There’s time, people!

Until then, we promise not put him in his car seat incorrectly or make him feel ashamed of his constant eating and shitting or do anything other than make affectionate cooing noises towards him. And in that time, we may even read a few books. Okay? We all on the same page now?

Here’s yet another promise you can bank on: I will not become those “people” – subhuman monsters, really - who can only talk about their kid, and how cute their kid is, and how amazing everything he says or does is. Picture taking will be kept to levels unseen since the mid-70’s. Likewise, parade-throwing and trophy-giving will be on a strictly as-earned basis. I know… how retro!!

To ensure that these measures are enforced and to counteract the brain-softening affect a baby has on adults, I have strategically instructed friends to observe and report back to me if I suddenly become too boring or one-note. This system of safeguards has been dubbed SNORAD; currently we are at stefcon 5 (according to wiki: this is the condition used to designate normal non-ennui-inducing behavior).

And, as a fail-safe back up, I have retained a large, mute Native American gentleman to come put a pillow over my face in the event that others have fled their posts or are otherwise “incapacitated.”

Now please let me get back to my book. Yes, I’m due in August, but I can’t seem to get past chapter two…