In which the part of the child is played by a stuffed animal

Cross posted at The Blogfathers

Last night we attended the final class we’ve signed up for in preparation for your arrival, little dude. This means, simply, that we know absolutely everything there is to know about what’s happening now, how to give birth to you, how to feed you, how to take care of your bumps and bruises, and since we have a “certificate of completion” from at least one of these classes, you should know that you’ll be in the hands of perfect parents. We will never make mistakes. Ever. We took some classes once!

At last night’s class, the breastfeeding class, we had the opportunity to see some of the largest breasts I’ve ever seen in my entire life. No, not from the other people in the class (though I should tell that as the real story to all my baby-less friends: “Yeah, it’s pretty cool — everybody comes in, we all get naked, have some cake and talk about breastfeeding. I fed two kids myself!), but on this little video explaining all the steps.

Look, I know that a woman’s body changes during pregnancy. And I completely understand that the breasts change size, even after the child is born. What I don’t understand is where they found the actors for the video because those women had breasts that almost require that you call them by those silly derogatory names men often call them. It wouldn’t have fazed me in the slightest if the narrator said: “Next, cradle the baby’s head in the palm of your hand; place your wrist in the center of the baby’s back, between the shoulderblades; support the neck and torso as you pull the baby closer to your gazonga. You may need to support your bazoom with your free hand. When baby is finished feeding, remove him from the AAOOOOGAH!”

We got to practice all this with one of your stuffed animals, which made your mom feel silly (and which I’m sure your stuffed animal will brag about; ignore him, he’s an idiot). She’s not much on doingthis sort of stuff in front of other people. Especially when the people next to her are certifiably bonkers. Seems everywhere we go we run into crazy people. Seems all of these childbirth preparation courses are nearly brimming with them (see my last letter to you). But the girl next your mom last night may take the cake.

She walked into the room all happy and giddy and smiling in every direction. She came straight at us and asked your mom, “CanIsitnexttoyouthanks?” She sat down and then told us that you had better be born on her wedding anniversary, and when class started she raised her hand and answered all the opening questions with “I don’t know?”

Who here knows anything about breastfeeding? the instructor asked.

“I don’t know?”

All right, who here knows what benefits come from breastfeeding?

“I don’t know?”

She sat with one of those open-mouthed-with-clenched-teeth smiles throughout the entire two and a half hours of class — the crazy person’s smile — and then when it came time to practice the breastfeeding, where we got to pick up our stuffed animals and pretend they were you, the girl picked up her teddy bear and started whispering to it. She was cooing and smiling at those gazeless button eyes. She asked the bear if it would like to be swaddled, and apparently it did because she pretended to swaddle it and then she pretended to breastfeed the bear and then she actually talked to the bear for about four minutes. Much of it was “You’re so cute! Yes you are!“

I’m just happy that she never said: “Yes, anything you say! What, that couple behind me? Oh no, I couldn’t! But if you really want me to, Sam, I will!