Friday, September 28, 2007
Fatherhood, here I come
Ever the wise one, Meltem started taking classes a couple of weeks ago with a local baby guru, Ayşe Öner. Ms. Öner has not only written an outstanding book on pregnancy and infant care, she is also baby-adviser to the stars, as it were, having helped several famous Turkish singers and actresses with their own babies. Husbands are, of course, welcome in the classes, and I have blocked off Tuesday and Friday mornings on my teaching schedule so that I can go when there's something particularly useful to me. And today there was: I learned how to bathe a (plastic) baby. I was a big success, if I do say so myself; you shoulda seen me, dipping that sucker in the water, turning it over, etc. (I refrained from grabbing it by the ankles and dunking it in head-first, you'll be impressed to hear.) So Meltem has already decreed that I will be in charge of Ozan's baths. Ha! How hard can this parenting thing be?
4 comments:
(I’m rewriting this because I’m an atrocious speller)
Good for you guys! Stef and I skipped the Parenting Class for some reason and had a nightmare first bath. Way to much soap, Emmy grabbed a hand full of suds and put it in her mouth. She started to cry, we started to cry, it was grim. Fortunately my mother was their and kept her calm. Thankfully they teach you how to diaper in the hospital. Our friend Dara, mother of two, showed us how to give a bath in the bassinet which looked like ancient mysticism at the time. We also figured out Emerson’s little tub fit in the sink. Ah ha! Now we were standing and giving a bath, it’s a sharp curve guys but you’re totally at the point of the spear.
That is so funny! Trust me, I took a similar baby bathing class and it is a totally different experience bathing a real, squirming baby vs. a plastic baby. The soap makes them very slippery...
Wait - you're supposed to BATHE them?
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