Guest Post: Married with Children

Two posts in two days? Dang, Dan, you're on fire. Well, not really. Today we have guest writer Maria Precissi on danpluscarrieplusbaby.blogspot.com . Maria is twenty something, carefree, and single so I am forced to hate her. She's funny as heck though, so I asked her to jot down her observations during Carrie and my "couples" baby shower. Thank you to Maria in advance for the large influx of internet traffic due to guys Googleing the search term "racy photos of Maria Precessi" and finding our blog. Also thank you to Kristen-D, Alexis-T, and KC-B for the party.

Married With Children
(an "outsiders" perspective)

Over the weekend I attended a baby-shower bbq for parents-to-be Dan and Carrie. I have attended many a shower for my friends over the past few years. Whether it be wedding or baby, I am no stranger to the party circuit deemed "shower." The couples shower version is always an interesting event, with parents (mothers) chasing young children around, trying to keep them off chairs, tables, out of bushes, and generally out of danger. All while the fathers hang around drinking beer much like in their high school, college, and post college days. It is an interesting thing to watch as an almost 30-something year old woman who is not married and doesn't have said children to run around and chase. So I will outline for you some of the hilarious events that I witnessed on the night of June 18, 2011.

As the party began it was a laid back family atmosphere in the back yard of Mr. and Mrs. Dyke. (And yes, that is their real name. As a matter of fact, when the Mrs. bakes her delicious cupcakes we affectionately call them “Dyke Muffins”). The party was your typical Dockers Commercial: Children excited to see their friends and run around and play, adults equally excited to see friends, have a few cocktails and celebrate the upcoming birth of little miss Natividad.

As dinner was served parents began a strategy of "man-to-man" coverage with their children. Each parent taking a child to sit them down to eat. Only a few had success and most just gave up and let their kids play figuring they'd eat when they're hungry. After dinner the women gathered around the gift table to watch Carrie open all of the adorable goodies she and Dan received. The men retreated to the garage to play typical baby shower games like beer-pong and modified scooter riding. As 8 o'clock drew near the wheels began to slowly loosen for many of the kids. The mom's made their way towards the garage and front yard, their sandals and heels tapping in a couples-only Morse code a message to the dad's: "hey, it's time to go home!". You could actually see the wives struggling to telepathically send messages to their husbands. But alas, Message not received!

Host G-Dyke to the other party goers: "hey, we need a pregnant woman to go on a beer run for us.” As if the only people sober enough to drive were pregnant women. He’d then ask each husband, “are you in for the long haul?” (I think right now is a good time to mention that G-Dyke does not have children.) A few of the brave gathered their children and made that slow and steady walk through the garage and down the driveway. The men, sensing that “last call” was approaching, huddled like football players in a Super Bowl game ready to score with 0:05 seconds left on the clock; desperate to use any points that had accrued to stay just a little bit longer! While the definition of “score” 10 years ago for these guys meant actually leaving a party with a beautiful woman, tonight “score” meant prolonging going home with them. As for the well designed plan that the husbands came up with, I can only compare it to children begging their parents to "stay just a little bit longer pppaaaallllleeeaaasseee!!!" So throughout the night Husbands could be heard whining to their wives:

“But can I just play one more game of beer pong with my friends? I promise I’ll be quick”

All that was missing from the husbands’ part was heavy breathing and grass stains on their clothes. Some men were granted a reprieve, others dragged home, and a select few just continued their partying while disgruntled wives/mothers watched their very tired children wrestle on the grass. One man was even bold enough to walk his wife and child home and then use the excuse of "babe, we forgot her FAVORITE purple sippy cup, I have to go back!" Creative, I must admit.

But the fun didn’t stop there.

One lucky boy was granted permission for the husband equivalent of a sleep over: another couple would drive him home later.

In the classic moment of the night, as his wife and daughters were driving away, and as he waved “good-night”, his wife slowed the car down in front of the house in the same way a south central LA gang member slows down for a drive-by. She rolled down the back window, and the cruelest of all weapons was unleashed. All you could hear was the tiniest, cutest girl voice saying “where’s Daddy? Where’s Daddy? I want Daddy to come home”.

A drive-by to the heart.

I looked at Daddy’s face and it silently screamed, “I’ll be home in an hour, baby. Daddy loves you”.

As the night drew to a close I found myself sitting on the floor of a garage playing caps with 5 grown men and a 4 year old. Caps, a game I never really understood the point of, seemed like a last ditch effort to keep the party going. It didn't last long. I was surprised however, that so many actually did stay for “the long haul”; or what some might call the wee hour of 9:30PM.

My observations, while entertaining, have taught me several things...most of all, parenting is hard! And if/when I am invited to a party similar when I am a parent myself, I am getting a baby-sitter!

Dan's Belly

We just got back from our babymoon to Kauai. It was a lot of fun. The sun was out, the water was warm, but more importantly, I was drinking for two.

We never had a chance to go on a trip after our wedding, so Kauai doubled as our honeymoon and babymoon. As such, all our travel paperwork said “reason for vacation: honeymoon and babymoon”. I might as well have written “shotgun wedding”. So it was kinda awkward when the front desk hands the “newlywed” Carrie a complementary bottle of champagne and she rests it on her belly. Every time we checked-in to pre-booked activities, you could see the questions swimming around in the heads of our Kauai hosts: “should I acknowledge the wedding AND the pregnancy?”, “should I just ignore the fact that this newlywed is 26 weeks preggers”, “should I ask if her father’s shot gun matched the wedding colors?”.

The only unfortunate (although super funny) development was that Carrie’s grand prego-upgrade schemes were constantly getting denied. She got the idea when we went to Cabo and some lady got bumped to 1^st class cause her tank top said “lucky bride”. All throughout the trip Carrie’d try to wear clothes that extenuated her pregnant belly in order to get free stuff and upgrades. Like, when we checked at the airline ticket counter, she pointed to her belly with her eyes as the ticket agent checked her ID. Thank goodness maternity stores don’t have a newlywed section otherwise I would have been sitting on the plane next to a “lucky bride” tank top wearing preggo periodically commenting on how she didn’t know alcohol was free in first class.

What ultimately thwarted my bride’s prego-upgrade scheme was that Kauai is full of prego travelers, or what I like to call Kauai’s official floppy hat wearing designated driver.

I’d say about one third of all couples in Kauai are expecting. Because of this we saw all kinds of bellies.

And then I noticed that Carrie was just as fascinated at checking out the different pregnant bumps as I was. Which I initially thought was awesome because it gave me free rein to gawk at women (which of course I did not do).

And with anything that is awesome while you are married, there was a soul draining downside: Carrie would constantly complain that everyone had a bigger bump than she had. She had bump envy. And she wanted me to suffer though the pain with her.

I’m totally fine with the size of her bump. And as an Asian male, I know that size isn’t everything. So to reassure her, I would point to huge bumps and say, “that one’s waay to big, that one would definitely hurt”. I would also tell Carrie that her bump was “just the perfect size for me. Not too big, not too small”.

Needless to say she wasn’t buying it.

I knew I was getting desperate when I suggested that we should start shopping for an expensive sports car.

And then one morning we were in front of the bathroom mirror getting ready to go to the beach. As I put my hand on Carrie’s stomach, I was reminded that in that small little belly, a little girl who I have never met before is waiting to come out into this huge, big world; and that Carrie and I would have a responsibility to ensure that this tiny girl in Carrie’s little belly would grow up to be a strong, successful, beautiful woman.

A little girl that we would care for, love, and cherish with all our hearts for the rest of our lives.

I then realized that there's nothing small about Carrie’s little belly.

The waiting game 2

I'm going to be honest. I can't wait for it to come out. With its wrinkly little body and soft skin. Skin that has never seen the light of day. So pure, so delicate, so innocent.

I'm of course talking about Carrie's belly button.

I have this unhealthy facination with Carrie's belly. I've heard so much about how a woman's body changes during pregnancy but the only thing that truly mesmerizes me is the fact that her belly button will go from an innie to an outtie.

It is so ready to pop out....and I want to witness it.

I'll sit there for 30 minutes trying to gently pop it out like a zit.