It's a Girl...I Think...

No, we haven't found out the sex of the baby. I'm just getting this feeling. If I believed in God that had the time or inclination to muck around in human affairs, I'd also have to concede that He had a sense of humor. Which is why I have no doubt he would give me a little girl, ya know, to keep me on my toes, and turn what little hair I had left into a shiny shade of gray (which is a pretty complicated way to say silver I suppose).

Part of it comes down to some dreams I had, I'll spare you all the messy details, but the short of it comes down to a complete loss of control and impending doom. The subconscious is working overtime. Not that I think having a daughter is a sign of losing control or impending doom. I just think it would be easier on my psyche to have a son. Because I know how boys are, after all, I used to be one.

We have finally finished all of our pre-birth educational classes. We've done Prepared Childbirth, Baby CPR, and Breastfeeding. As I had thought might happen, my view of boobies has been altered. Alison gave me the opportunity of not attending the class. Aside from the fact that I am, despite my trepidation about that particular class, interested in learning as much as I can before hand, I wouldn't have skipped it because a) I can guarantee that at some point it would pop up, probably to be used to illustrate some point about me not having done everything in my power to prepare for this, and b) as it turns out, Alison would have been one of the only ladies in the class without her significant other there, which I'm supposing also might have popped up in heated discussions as a point against me.

Now, let me put a disclaimer out there: I'm not saying my wonderful, hardworking, and endlessly patient lady is the type to hold a grudge, I'm just saying that at some point during labor, she might take fault with how I've approached things. I've heard it happens.

Something else we've been discussing is music vis-a-vis the baby. We've been woefully behind the curve in introducing our baby to music. But we're going to change that soon. One of the classes we took talked about how you should play music in utero and that when the baby pops out, they'll respond favorably to the music, giving you yet another tool to quiet a crying baby. While I know most people automatically think of the traditional lullabies, I'm going to take a different tack. I'll be playing Sinatra, Mel Torme, Dean Martin, the classic lounge singers. I'll feel much less silly singing Fly Me To The Moon than Hush Little Baby. Aside from saving me from having to bang my head against a wall to get Freres Jaques out of my head, I'm hoping it will give the kid a headstart on developing a certain sense of class and style. Ridiculous? Maybe. But how cool will it be if it works?