Father's Day

A bit of a belated post because, well, I don't really have an excuse except this weather makes me feel slower than a fly caught in molasses.  That's right: summer officially sucks when you're pregnant.  Can't wait for the next 2.5 months!  I thought I sweated a ton before but I had no idea how bad it could get - like soaking through sports bras at 7:00 AM at the dog park bad.  There ain't a clinical strength antiperspirant on the market that can help this mama now.  Grin and bear it, we shall, right, Oscar/?

Enough about that.  Let's focus on the pleasant aspects of anticipating this little bundle of punches and kicks.

We received our first baby gift from dear Aunt Liz last week.  It was PB's car seat/carrier: flame orange and gray, nicely coordinated with her nursery.  The box was enormous.  We opened it after returning from the wedding where I realized that no, I can no longer stand for seven hours in heels and hope to feel great at the end of the evening.  After the 4 hour drive home, I just wanted to sit on the floor and supervise Rhett's reading of the instructions.  It was pretty amusing trying to find the English side of the booklet.   

 

I thought it best to give Punky Brewster a trial run so I could figure out the strap situation.  It was relatively easy but I understand why they make those neck rings and strap guards for newborns.  We have a set ready to go for the hospital bag.  

The actual installation was a piece of cake.  However, it made us both realize that my midget clown car is perhaps not the ideal family vehicle when you figure in two adults, a gigantic infant seat, a 29 lb Wheatie, plus the gear for both dependents (minus any luggage for us.)  It just wouldn't happen for any trip over an hour without someone crying.

Observe:

I'd have to drive, as my seat is as far forward as it can safely and comfortably go.  No Stretch Armstrong is going to squeeze behind the wheel with this thing in it.  Default Rhett's car for the trip to/from the hospital.  We have yet to try the base in there but his backseat is larger than mine, at least.

I get it now, the whole SUV/minivan trend once you start your family.  You kind of need one.  Some day...house first, then maybe a new vehicle so Oscar isn't on top of his sister breathing stank breath in her face. 

The carrier is currently sitting in the basement where Oscar can walk up and sniff it.  He wasn't too sure at first, especially when he discovered that it rocks, and spent a good minute-and-a-half barking at it.  Then he trotted over and gave Punky kisses.  Now he checks on it occasionally but mostly just accepts its presence in his domain.  Good boy!