I’m ready to be a parent

After attending a baby basics class this weekend I think I’m fully prepared to be a parent because I finally have all the “basics” under my belt.

Like a good student I sat front and center so I could hear everything the instructor had to say.

I took detailed notes and watched closely every time the instructor presented something to the class.

And I was a pretty good student too. I had a diaper on my plastic baby’s head long before the instructor told us that heat escapes from the head.

I was definitely a step or two ahead of the woman who asked if it would be OK to dry her infant’s hair with a blow dryer. I hope her husband keeps an eye on her because she had some odd ideas on infant care.

I aced changing a diaper on my baby doll and ran circles around the confused guy who had a diaper wrapped around his doll’s leg.

Actually, he’d probably be the perfect husband for the woman who wanted to blow dry her kid.

By the end of the afternoon I also knew how to burp, dress, bathe and swaddle a baby. It was easy, a slam dunk.

As long as my kid is made out of plastic and doesn’t move I’ll be fine. Why was I ever worried about any of this stuff?

Of course, it didn’t hit me until I left class that the instructor never told us the right way to pick up and hold a baby.

Is it just me or does that seem like the most basic thing of all? It must not be a big deal if the instructor didn’t go over it.

She’s the expert and since I sat right in front of her she could see that I spent all afternoon picking up my baby and holding it by its arm, legs and head.

She never said a word so I must have been doing something right.

* MORE WEEKEND SHENANIGANS: The baby basics class wasn’t the end of my baby-centric weekend.

The class chewed up and spit out the best parts of Saturday afternoon which left Sunday afternoon as the last shred of time to kick back and relax.

But that just wasn’t meant to be because we had to visit with a day care provider.

As fate would have it, we enjoyed the world’s longest smog check before our appointment and had to stress out while speeding our way through traffic to show up to the appointment on time.

After all that effort we were stood up. Not exactly a great way to make a first impression is it?

The day care provider’s mother answered the door and looked at us like we were a pair of masked robbers. After realizing that the pregnant woman and chubby middle aged guy on her doorstep weren’t going to beat her over the head with a rubber hose she invited us in.

Turns out her daughter e-mailed us in the morning to cancel the appointment but we didn’t get the message because we were out getting the car smog checked.

A phone call would have been nice but maybe that’s just crazy ol’ me expecting a little professionalism.

As the grandmother fumbled around showing us the house and giving us some paperwork, the details came out that they had a big party the night before and her daughter isn’t actually licensed to provide child care.

When we finally got home and checked our e-mail we found the lamest excuse I’ve come across in quite a while: The day care provider couldn’t meet with us because her mother had made plans for the day for the two of them.

Um, yeah. Sure. You had big plans for the day with your mother … the exact same ditzy old broad who showed us around your house when we should have been meeting with you.

It’s annoying and infuriating to waste my weekend on bad liars and unprofessional, unqualified child care providers. But it’s frightening to think that people actually trust these people to take care of their children.

I should probably track down the woman who wanted to blow dry her baby and the guy who diapered his baby’s leg because I think I just found the perfect day care provider for them.


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