The Admonition Paradox

Thank you for joining us once again.

Before we begin today's post, I'd like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas, or whatever religious holiday you may choose (or not) to celebrate.  I'd also like to thank those of you who read our story, and join us on our adventure to parenthood.

I know I keep promising more frequent updates, and I haven't delivered on that promise.  That said, I will no longer promise more frequent updates, just that I will update when I can.

Onto the topic of today:

The Admonition Paradox:

One thing that I've discovered (although, unsurprisingly), in our short journey thus far, is that no matter whether or not a person has children of their own, they'll never hesitate to give you unsolicited advice.

I like to consider myself a curious individual, and I gain tremendous joy out of obtaining any and all relevant information that I can on a subject.  However, some of the advice that Mrs. J and I have received to date is absolutely dumbfounding.

For instance, we were out shopping for some of our first gender specific baby clothing at the local Wal-Mart, and during checkout, I was ... enlightened, by our cashier, to all of the dangers in vaccinating children. I also recognize that although I fully support the large majority of the medical professionals' opinions that we should vaccinate our children, that the topic is somewhat of a "hot-button" topic.  I get it.

However, the cashier put it very matter-of-factly, that if we vaccinate our child, that they'll become autistic.  Not that there's a chance.  But that it will happen.  So, having done a bit of research (hardly enough to be an expert on the matter), I asked her what experience or evidence she was drawing such a statement on.  Her reply made my jaw drop, "Oh, well, I don't have kids of my own, but I watched this big long TV special on it a while back, and the evidence is pretty undeniable."

Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I've a very sharp tongue, and am usually pretty venomous with it when I feel that the situation calls for it (or sometimes even when it doesn't).  But, being that we were in public, I bit my tongue, and just wished the woman a good night.

However, this set me to thinking.

Up until now, I've been very receiving when it comes to parenting advice.  Because, let's face it, this is our first child, and I'm in no position to deny it.  Although, there comes a point that even as an inexperienced parent-to-be, you learn to discern good advice from bad advice.

What bothers me the most about it all, is that if you question any advice, regardless of its merit, the person who gave it to you (whether asked or not to provide it), immediately goes on the defensive, and assumes you're being a jerk about it.  Perhaps there's a social convention that I'm unaware of, or some mannerism I've displayed to these people that triggers this response, but I look at it as simply asking for a deeper explanation.  Just because I question the way you tell me I "need to feed my child," or ask why, doesn't mean I'm discrediting your opinion.  It means that I want some additional information to support your statement.  I've never been one to blindly follow the words of others, and I pride myself on that.  I like to gather as much information as I can, and draw my own, somewhat educated opinion on the subject.  But, in spite of that, when it comes to parenting advice, it seems that asking "Why?" is akin to telling that person that their spouse is ugly.

This particular issue also has the potential to create a very serious awkwardness in your social relationships, as I've come to learn.  As I've mentioned before, some of our friends are expecting parents, and I've also noticed that even though they have no prior parenting skills, they've no shortage of worldly advice to offer.  For instance, an expectant mother that we are friends with made it no secret that she thought breastfeeding was disgusting, and a method of nutrition fit only for peasants.  Knowing that Mrs. J intends to breastfeed postpartum, this made for an awkward conversation.  This friend didn't go as far as to berate her decision, but wasn't quiet about her disgust for the activity, and that she "couldn't understand why anyone would do that to their child."  When I presented her with some widely supported benefits of breastfeeding vs. formula feeding, I wasn't met with intellectual discussion, but a simple, "Well, you can't believe everything you read."

The point is fair, but how else are we to learn, if we aren't to read?  If everyone in the world raised their children simply off of wives' tales, and word of mouth, society would, I fear, be on the brink of extinction.

So, it seems that there's no shortage of advice to be had, but there is certainly a shortage of courtesy among some of the givers.  

I suppose that what I'm getting at is simply:

If you wish to offer advice, please know that it's appreciated.  However, don't get upset if someone asks "Why?" I know there's a great deal of people out there that will listen to every piece of advice they receive as if it's gospel, but there's just as many of us out there who seek to understand, rather than just go with it.

Thanks again for reading, and we'll be back soon (hopefully).

-J

Our very own Christmas Miracle

Good evening, once again, readers.

I first want to preface this post with this:  I'm a jerk.  I promised you all more frequent updates, and haven't delivered on that promise.  For that, I apologize.  Unfortunately, life has a way of distracting you from the things you'd like to do, in lieu of the things you need to do.  Work has been consuming my free time - retail's a mean one, especially this time of the year.

With that said, I hope that you all had a very, very happy Thanksgiving, and were able to spend it with your loved ones.

This evening, I'll be sharing with all of your the story of Mrs J. and I's very own Christmas miracle.

Today we had our monthly visit with Mrs. J's OB, and went in expecting just a very quick, very basic visit, as her practice only technically perform's 3 ultrasounds during the course of a normal pregnancy, unless it's medically necessary for more frequent scans.

As you may recall, our previous visit was unable to provide an audible heartbeat due to complications with the good doctor's equipment.  We were only able to see it via ultrasound, which was equally satisfactory to us.  This visit, however, was able to produce a very strong, very audible heartbeat with the baby Doppler.  It was by far one of the coolest things I've ever heard.  By the time the nurse shut the machine off, both Mrs. J and I were grinning from ear to ear.

The doctor came in to wrap up as usual, providing this month's lab slips, and to make sure we were question-free.  As we were getting ready to leave, she asked us the burning question, "So, are you two planning on taking a peek at the gender and finding out what you're having?"

Now, anyone who knows me, knows that finding out the gender of our child has been what I've looked forward to most.  The downside, with Christmas right around the corner, was that our appointment schedule didn't quite line up with Christmas and finding out the gender of our baby.  So, I was honest with the doctor, "Yes. We were originally hoping to find out before Christmas, so that we could plan, but the timing just doesn't match up."

The response we got from the doctor: "Hm."  And she disappeared for a few minutes.

Upon her return, she told us, "Go ahead and go down the hall and wait on the bench, I'm going to sneak you in to get an advanced peek at the sex of your baby.  Merry Christmas."

It goes without saying, Mrs. J and I were elated at the thought, and almost didn't believe it was going to happen.  But, we did as instructed, and went down the hall to visit the office ultrasound tech.  She called us in, and set straight to work.

The whole process took about 15 minutes, because our little Bean wasn't cooperating.  In fact, the kid even gave the tech the finger (yes, really).  So, I sat and watched as the technician jiggled away at Mrs. J's belly, in an effort to get the bugger to move to a peek-worthy position. Lot's of  "Hm's,' and "c'mon's" were heard throughout. Just before the session concluded, I'd almost given up on the notion that we'd be finding out the gender of our little one.  That is, until the technician proudly proclaimed, "Yep! That's definitely a penis."

So, ladies and gentlemen, we've officially joined Team Blue.  We're having a boy!

It may not seem like much of a miracle, but it takes someone very special to do what our doctor did for us today.  She didn't have to make special accommodations for us, but she did - without us asking, just because she could.

I've written doctors off for most of my adult life - I've never had a doctor who seemed to only care about me as a patient, and have always felt like a number to the doctors I've seen.  And even though she isn't my doctor, Dr. K has certainly restored some of my faith in the community of medical professionals.

Truth be told, the only thing I wanted for Christmas this year, was to find out the gender of our baby.  Not because it's that important, but because it's such a milestone.  To give him (or her, at the time) a name, and start to plan a little bit better.  Dr. K made that wish come true for both of us.  Our parents were equally eager to discover if they were having a grandson or a granddaughter, and so by extension, we were able to make their wish come true this evening, as well.

I certainly hope that you and your families have a Merry Christmas, and that you'll join us next time.

Happy Holidays, everyone.

-J

Wait, you want a what?

As promised, tonight you all get two posts. That's right. Two.

A few months ago, I was on the internet, and landed upon a story from a woman who was just furious because she didn't receive a "push present," from her husband when she gave birth.  Not knowing what a "push present,"was, I put my Google-fu to use, and did some digging.

I was absolutely blown away by what I discovered.  For those of you who don't know what it is, a "push present," is a gift that is given to a fresh-out-of-labor mother by her spouse or significant other.  And by gift, I don't mean a bouquet of flowers, or a stuffed animal - we're talking birthday/Christmas grade presents.  In the case of the post that I originally landed on, a Gucci handbag.  The woman who authored the post was absolutely frenzied because her "inconsiderate, and selfish," husband did not buy her the Gucci bag she had been eyeing since before she gave birth.

Naturally, my reaction when I began reading through this was laughter.  "How can she be serious?" I thought to myself.  But then I kept reading, and realized she was 100% deadly serious.  My reaction quickly went from humor to shock.

Once I finished reading this blog post, I called Mrs. J to ask her if she'd ever heard of a "push present."  When she told me she hadn't, she asked me to explain it to her.  So I did.  Upon the end of my explanation, I was met with a chuckle, and a very direct, "That's dumb.  Why would I want an expensive purse? I have expensive purses, and I'm getting a baby!"  Once I hung up the phone, I was awash with relief, "Good, I'm not crazy." I thought to myself.  Then, being the type of person who is always seeking to learn and understand, I did some more digging.  I perused Reddit about the topic, various blog-sites, and even a few mommy discussion groups.  That's when I realized that these "push presents," are more and more common, and fairly mainstream in today's society.  I think, anyway.  Being that I don't have a large sample to poll about the subject, I'll continue to rely on my internet findings. In-fact, I found several large and heated discussions on the internet taking place between pro-push present moms, and anti-push present moms.  Many women on the internet share the same views as Mrs. J and I, and think they're a ridiculous and outlandish idea.  However, just as many women vapidly defend the concept, and feel that all men should participate in this gift-giving event.

I don't want anyone to read this, and think that I'm of the mindset that childbirth is a walk in the park, or that it's a comfortable experience.  I can only imagine the pain that a woman endures whilst giving birth, or even during gestation.  I do, however, think that it's quite ridiculous to expect expensive gifts for giving birth to your child.  I believe that both you and your partner are receiving the ultimate gift - life.  The joy that your little ball of light is going to bring and enrich your life with is more of a gift than money could ever provide.

On the other side of the coin, that I don't think many women think about (hell, that I don't think anyone really thinks about), is what dad feels through the whole process.  While expecting fathers certainly don't go through the physical discomfort of carrying a child, or the pain involved with popping the little tyke out, pregnancy is hardly a trip to Disneyland for us, either.  Whether it be irrational emotional outbursts, midnight runs to the grocery store for unfathomable cravings, or any number of other pregnancy-related events, it's not easy for us. Anyway, I'm getting off track - the point I'm trying to make is, you don't see dad's-to-be expecting a new flatscreen for doing our part during all of this.  We're expected to do it, and better damn well do it with a smile on our faces.

And if you are a dad-to-be, and expect a new flatscreen for doing what's expected of you - you're an asshole (pardon my language), and have no business taking care of anyone, let alone a child.  As partners in the journey, we're expected to take care of mom, and that baby when he or she arrives.

I look at it this way, and maybe it makes me sound like kind of an ass, but women for thousands of years have given birth without expecting presents.  Why is this all of a sudden a thing?

I do realize that there's a good chance that some of the parents to be that may end up here on this blog may be pro-push present.  If that's the case, you're probably pissed.  But, until someone can present a reasonable argument in favor of push presents and convince me otherwise, I just can't see how anyone could justifiably expect one.

Hopefully I've not incited any flame-wars anywhere, or angered any of our readers, and in trying to avoid that, I'm going to end this post here.

Good evening, all, and I'll see you next time.

Preparation complete?

Thanks again for joining us.  Tonight's going to be kind of exciting - we've got two posts for this evening!

Rather than mash them all into one giant wall of text, I'm breaking it up into two separate posts, so that if one doesn't interest you, you can quickly jump to the other one.

On with the show!

Preparation Level: Complete! (Almost).

As time continues to fly on, Mrs. J has hit almost 17 weeks of our little adventure.  Hard to believe that we're almost halfway there. For anyone who is just joining us, or who doesn't know me:  I'm a very rigid individual.  You could almost go as far to say I'm kind of a control freak, and I like to have order in my life.  With that said, since we've found out that Mrs. J is pregnant, I've been trying to do everything in my power to be as prepared as possible for what's to come.

Too often do you read stories, or see features on the news about new parents who are so oblivious as to what's involved with having a baby, you'd almost think they didn't know they were having a baby until the kid pops out.  We don't want to be those parents. So, as we've been on our adventure, I've been trying to buy as much of what we need as we can afford, and any time there's extra or unexpected money, I've been trying to funnel those resources into preparation for our little one to arrive.

This has also been a source of much turbulence among some of our expecting friends, coworkers, and us.

In our social circle, there are many other expecting mothers, and so obviously, a common topic of conversation is what goes into preparing for a child.  Thinking about that, a frequent point of tension in this social circle is how prepared Mrs. J and I are, versus how prepared our expectant friends are.  A common question that we get from our friends is, "Why are you spending all of this money? That's what baby showers are for."  Or an even more common statement, one of very few in this world that make me cringe, "Oh, it must be nice."

I've never felt it necessary to justify our actions to our friends, but I'll show my work here:

Yes, baby showers are nice.  Sure, you get loads of free baby stuff, and the ladies spend the afternoon gossiping, eating, laughing, and having a good time.  However, I do not feel that expecting parents should put the burden of large, or expensive baby items on friends and family.  I've always viewed baby showers, and after discussion, Mrs. J shares this view, as a way to get together with friends, get some small essential items for your little one, and have a good time.  I feel that the weight of those large baby-related purchases should fall upon the expectant parents, and should the need arise, you can then reach out to friends and family to assist if necessary.  I think that it's an unfair, and unrealistic expectation to think that you'll finish furnishing your nursery by means of your friends and family.

The other caveat of a successful baby shower (success being measured in turnout) is a large social circle to draw upon for attendance.  This is certainly a luxury that Mrs. J and I do not have.  We can count on two hands the number of people we, at this point, feel comfortable inviting into our home.  As it stands, her baby shower will consist of family, a small number of coworkers, and a few close friends.

With all of this said, Mrs. J and I have been funneling the largest part of our expendable income into preparing for our child, and I feel great about it. We communicate regularly about the things we need, and have been slowly purchasing all of the major items we will need.  Every time we make a trip to Wal-Mart, we buy a box or two of diapers.  The last two weeks of November, I put in a ton of overtime at work, and was able to purchase a new crib mattress and travel system.  And as of this past weekend, I truly feel that the majority of our preparations have been completed, barring clothing, which we're holding off until we find out the gender of our little one.  Once the gender determination is complete, then I'll begin setting up the nursery to coincide with that determination (blue/pink accents, wallpaper, etc.).

This preparation has caused what I can only presume is a moderate level of jealousy from those of our social group who cannot, or have not, prepared at all for what's to come.

If you've stuck with me for this long, and are still reading, I have one piece of advice for any other first time parents that may have come across this blog:

Communicate often, and prepare early.  The last thing anyone wants is to be caught off-guard in such a major life event.