The Sonia Show

Writer. Mocker. Beer drinker. Old movie watcher. Mother. Goober.

Third watch

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Yeah, so, we’re in the home stretch.

Third trimester.

Along with being closer to spawn’s arrival, the third trimester will bring more abdominal and back aches, more intense kicks and punches from spawn, and serious huffing and puffing when I climb the stairs to our place. Sounds like a blast, right? I’ll just keep my eye on the prize: A healthy spawn who will take care of me when I’m old.

Also, we have to take a birthing class in the third trimester. I’m not looking forward to it, because it takes a serious chunk of time. We can either attend four evening classes on Thursdays , two morning classes on Saturdays or do a one-day, all-day class on a Sunday.

When I informed David about the schedule, he said what I was thinking, “I don’t want to give up two Saturday mornings.” Never mind that soon enough we will be giving up sleeping in every Saturday morning for years to come. “That’s why these Saturdays are more even precious,” he pointed out.

The Thursday evening classes start at 6 p.m., and they’re three hours long. Basically, they are denying pregnant ladies dinner. It seems wrong to me, and I don’t want any part of it. So, we’re going to get it all done in one shot, and take the all-day Sunday class.

Of course, this is not my first birthing class. A decade ago, I attended birthing classes with my sister Michelle, when she was knocked up with Lorelei. [Long-time readers of The Sonia Show know that wonderful, amazing, super genius Lorelei has a deadbeat, stupid asshole for a father — referred to as DBD for Deadbeat Dad. I hate even referring to him as her father. Her stepfather Tony is her real father. DBD was a sperm donor. Tony is her dad.]

So anyway, Michelle and I took these classes together, so I have a pretty good idea of what to expect. But that was 10 years ago, and now I’m the one who is pregnant so I really have to pay attention. I don’t know if any class can really mentally or physically prepare me for pushing a baby out of my vagina. What I mainly remember from those classes was all the students assuming that Michelle and I were a lesbian couple. There was a part of the class in which we were supposed to comfort our partner during labor by hugging them and rubbing their back. Every father in the room was watching us, like any second we were going to start making out. So we did. I kid! I don’t make out with my sister, but sometimes we have tickle fights and it looks like we are going to kiss but we don’t … you sick, pervs.

Here’s what I really think about when I think of child birth classes …

So anyway, we’re slowly getting things ready at the house for spawn’s arrival.

David’s best buddy Collin has been staying with us this week, and we’ve been putting him to work. Earlier this week, Collin and David put together a rocking chair for spawn’s room. On Saturday, they put together the crib … with some supervision by Homer.

"I'm helping."

Homer is behind bars.

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Author: The Sonia Show

I'm a writer/mocker/goober/mother in San Francisco who likes to drink beer, shop, laugh and make other people laugh, podcast, watch old movies, feed my unhealthy obsession with pop culture, kick breast cancer's ass, wear orange and root for the San Francisco Giants, participate in general jackass-ery, talk about TV, eavesdrop on strangers' conversations, make nerdy “Star Wars” and “Simpsons” references, and post personal things about myself on the web for all to read, which makes me some sort of literary exhibitionist.

One thought on “Third watch

  1. Yay for Tony!

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