Lessons Learned Through Eight Months

Miranda would have loved to share our recent adventures with everyone, but this time, the privilege becomes mine for any number of the following reasons—Miranda is busy either:

a. reading a book about breastfeeding
b. reading a book about home births and blaming me that we can’t have one
c. sleeping in our new lazy boy (replacement for rocking chair—highly recommended)
d. dreaming about cinnamon rolls
e. craving cinnamon rolls

f. telling me to go get her cinnamon rolls

g. sleeping in bed

h. lotioning her expanding stomach, or

i. measuring her stomach against the Earth’s circumference

Needless to say, she’s busy preparing to be a mother.

So today, it is the husband and soon-to-be father that has the opportunity to discuss time-honored adages of pregnancy that we have discovered through eight months of pregnancy--things that we're sure every first-time parent eventually has to learn in order to be successful.

Lesson Number 1:  Pregnant Women Aren't to Go Skydiving

Luckily, this was one lesson we did not have to learn the hard way--I was able to talk Miranda out of it (unlike running at night).  But we did have the opportunity to get away to a bed and breakfast in the middle of nowhere:  Shinglehouse, PA.

The View from Oz Homestay

Oz Homestay is a do-it-all kind of breakfast that offers rustic rooms, delicious food, camping and, of course, skydiving.  Run by a Aussie (thus, "Oz") self-taught chef and skydiver and his American wife, Oz was going to offer us an early anniversary escape before the arrival of the boy.  The afternoon and evening after we arrived was relaxing and cool, and we got to stroll around the property.  Since Miranda was not going to be able to skydive, though, the owners allowed her a special opportunity to get up into the single-engine plane for a cruise around the PA-NY rural scene:

The View Out the Front (yes, that's the propeller)

After the flight, the owners prepared a delicious meal of filet mignon and chicken curry and topped it off with caramel cheesecake.  It was easily the best steak I've ever eaten; I definitely 'nommed it up, George Dubya style.

After dinner, the owner gave a dissertation on what a horrible profession I had chosen.  It turns out attorneys really are good-for-nothing and are a plague on society.  Just two years too late, Oz.  Two years.  He probably wouldn't have said the same things about dentists.  Had I only known.  Oh well--I guess I'll stick with it. 

After the night, we woke up to see the other couple that had stayed there overnight make the jump (pictured above) and we took off.  Not in a hurry to get back to the CLE, we turned a four hour drive into the backroads-five and a half hour drive through Allegheny State Park.  Absolutely wonderful.  It was a perfect day to meander through Pennsylvania's back roads, looking at this for most of the way home:

Lesson Number 1(a):  Pregnant Women Cannot Go in Hot-tubs, Especially Without "Bathers"

Oh yeah.  Oz also had a hot tub.  Early in the afternoon, the owners approached us about using it.  With them.  But without "bathers."  It took me a while to realize what he was even talking about.  Let me save you the wait and translate:  "bathers" is Australian for bathing suit.  Yes, he did just say that--he was inviting us to go skinny dipping. 

Luckily, again, I was able to talk Miranda out of it.  But probably just because she knew pregnant women aren't allowed in hot tubs. 

House rules at Oz

Lesson Number 2:  Having a Baby = Less Stuff for You, More Stuff for Baby

I thought it was bad when I got married.  Gifts to me had become boxes filled with kitchen items, candles or blankets and stuff.  No sign of man stuff like steaks and football tickets and weights.  With a baby, I can already tell there is no looking back.

I can kiss gifts like this goodbye.

This is now the future.

It also appears that furniture will never look the same.  I'm not sure that as an adult, I would have ever otherwise owned a dresser and bed that is in four different colors.  Check out these gems:

How does it look?  All I can say is that this little boy is going to have to grow into manhood because he isn't being born into it, with furniture like that.  Actually, I can't complain, I think it looks kind of good, especially in the shadow of LaVell Edwards Stadium and other Cougar-adorned walls.  And you better believe LES is there to stay.  I tried talking Miranda into taking off all of the BYU paraphernalia off the wall into the old office/new baby's room, but she would not have it.  When this girl has her mind made up, it is made up.  I guess pregnancy has really brought the true blue out of Miranda.  She even crochets through only half of the games now.  And for those of you who know, you can appreciate how truly monumental that is.  Like double rainbow monumental.




So anyway, this furniture actually has a story behind it:  Here in C-town, Miranda and I have grown very fond of a phenomenon that the locals refer to as the "tree lawn."  Instead of taking old furniture to the dump, they put it on the law and up for grabs.  They may also post an ad on Craigslist, but there is usually no need.  You see, people here in Cleveland have a sixth sense about the availability of garbage that could somehow be repaired and reused.  Fortunately for this kid, his parents have developed such an ability, and we were able to pick up the dresser on the side of the road. 

When we picked it up, though, it had a black/dark brown finish.  We got the changing table from friends, and it had a light brown finish.  The crib, meanwhile, had a white finish.  We figured that at least, we did not want Max's room looking like it was me that decorated it, so we decided to remedy the mismatch.  Thanks to our good friends Paige and Nate, we came up with a design for the changing table and the dresser that would make it match the white crib and what will be his bedding (once one of you decides to purchase it from our registry).  We thought it turned out well enough.  Not bad, right?

We've got you covered, Max

Lesson Number 3:  It Turns Out That, After All, There May Be Some Things More Important Than BYU Football

But not that many.  Things that are not more important than BYU football even include friends that say disparaging things about the Cougars, friends that say positive things about Yewts, and my concern for Riley Nelson's health.  But one thing is certain, and that is this boy is more important than the Cougs.  It is just about the only thing that could pick Miranda (and me, too, I guess) up off the floor after two disappointing losses. 

We won this game, but Kariya's face = my heart after BYU loses

Miranda will be 35 weeks on Sunday the 26th.  She is still outrunning me.  I did finally get her to stop making the 2 mile bike ride to work.  But that's about all I've been able to stop her from doing.  We've been blessed with a healthy pregnancy, and looking forward to a healthy baby in less than a month. 

That's when the real lessons have to be learned.