I spent a few hours on Sunday afternoon registering for parenting classes. PARENTING CLASSES! If you asked me a year ago if I ever thought I'd be registering for "Conscious Fathering" I probably would have told you to go somewhere unpleasant. But there I was. I've basically booked up my whole October to learn every aspect of caring for the new edition. Worst of all, some of the classes were only available on Saturday morning, traditionally my day of worship at the casino. Not that I'm growing resentful of the coming baby, hell, I'm not the one who has to carry the extra weight and go through a hormonal roller coaster, but IF I was going to resentful, this might be the cause. In truth, if anything, signing up for all those classes just made everything a little more real.
Also, last night we did the belly-to-belly thing and I got to feel the little guy kick a little more. Maybe because we were watching "Kung Fu Hustle" this guy was kicking like nobody's business. Now I have to decide if I'll ruin this guy's life pressuring him to be a professional soccer player or martial arts master. Thankfully I have a few more months to contemplate this.
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