The Classes: September 10th, 2011

So being the awesome fiance and future father that I am, I decided to attend these two baby classes with Ashley, because again, I'm awesome. The class starts off with us of course being late, so now we were labeled "those" parents by the other parents, I could read it on their faces as if it was written on their forehead. We were being categorized as the parents who don't take this serious enough, who put themselves before their child, and will end up raising the next Columbine kid.

The first thing they did was separate the men from the women. The women stayed in the room while the teacher dragged the men in a single file line out in to the hallway and lined us up against the wall. The teacher then walked back and forth down the line looking at all of us and explaining that we need to take this class very serious. I felt like I was in the middle east, being interrogated because they were looking for the American liaison who was then going to be stoned to death. For some reason this women who weighed 90 lbs. soaking wet had me so scared to even think about cracking a joke. But that wore off in a matter of minutes.

No matter where I am or what I am involved in, I think I have that face that just screams at the teacher or instructor, "Pick me! Pick me!" because I am always picked first to do demonstrations. Whether it was in school, at sports practices, in driving classes, or at these child birthing classes, I am always picked first. The good thing is I am not a shy person and am very hard to embarrass, so whatever the situation is I always make the best of it. Now for those of you who do not know me very well, I ALWAYS quote movies. Especially classic guys films like 40-Year Old Virgin, Superbad, Accepted, and in this case, Knocked-Up. The teacher asked me to come to the front of the room and show the class how I think my baby is currently positioned inside my baby momma's stomach. Well because, like I said before, I am awesome, I got this question right and the teacher made a comment that no man had ever gotten that question right. So this is how the dialogue went...

Teacher: "OK, Rickey, you show me how you think your baby is positioned in your partner's belly right now."

Me: (Holding the baby doll and folding her appropriately) "Like this!"

Teacher: "Wow! That's really impressive. No man has ever gotten that question right!"

Me: "Well, I read the baby books."

Teacher: (Holding her hand up for a high five) "Did you really? Good for you!"

Me: (Giving her a high five) "No, not really."

I don't think the teacher was very happy with me because I cracked a joke but I am also not sure if she knows that it was a joke.

Our teacher also told us that every 30 minutes the pregnant women need to empty their bladder because it helps the baby move into the birth canal. So I made sure that every 30 minutes I would let the teacher know that it was bathroom time. The reason why I was so keen on making sure I didn't miss a 30 minute break is because this was the only chance I could check the college football scores.

Tip #39: If she wants you to go to the classes, then go. It will make her happy, and at this point in time it is very hard to get her to, and keep her at, the emotion called happy.

And this is when I was learning the instructions for a proper landing on my journey to, destination... dad.

The Moods: February 23rd, 2011

No article, no advice, no one, could have prepared me for the mood swings that I have gone through in the past two months. In a matter of a second my house goes from Pleasantville to Pearl Harbor. The other day Ashley asks me to do the dishes and I said I would before I went to bed, mind you the basketball game was on. She falls asleep on the couch as I am watching the end of the basketball game, I wake her up to go upstairs to bed, forgetting all about the dishes. The next morning Kamikaze planes were crashing into my living room. Ashley is going ballistic, her mouth is like the machine gun on the Kamikaze plane and instead of just committing suicide and crashing into me she decides to shoot me with a thousand bullets first, making sure I feel the wrath.

Now Ashley knows what she signed up for, she knows I have been diagnosed by my father with CRS (Can't Remember Shit). I have to write my name on my hand before going to bed so I can remember it the next morning, not really, but you get the point. There have been plenty of instances before where I forgot to do the dishes, but none were more important to her than this night. These were special dishes, these were the Taj Mahal of dishes. She acted as if I didn't clean those dishes that night then mold was going to grow on them, she would then breathe in this moldy air as she was asleep and our baby would come out looking like the people from The Hills Have Eyes.

Tip #7: No matter how bad you want to shout at her the line, "F*** you hormones" from Knocked Up... don't.

And this is when I started to take on enemy aircraft on my journey to, destination... dad.