So how do you like the new banner? Yeah, I don’t really either. I’ll work on a better one later. For now, it’ll do. But that’s not what I came here for.
There are some things that Karli wants me to do that I generally don’t do. Shave. Go buy tampons. Turn into Dean Cain.
But now that she’s pregnant, there are a couple things she wants me to do that I’ll probably be a little better about doing. I’m guessing that they’re probably pretty common among people who are about to have a baby. Or among people planning on killing off their husbands. Let’s hope Karli’s just in the first group.
First, she wants me to call about life insurance. She checked on it already, but she wants me to be the one to actually go through and get the policy. (Fast fact: Did you know pregnant women can’t get a new life insurance policy? They told Karli to call again six weeks after the baby was born. Too many problem areas with pregnancy and post-partum depression, it seems.) I guess she just wants to make sure everything is squared away for her and Squatch in case something happens to me. Either that, or she’s planning an “accident.” Maybe I should hire one of my students to be my official taste-tester from here on out. You know—just in case.
Anyway, I’m sure that once I do call these people, it’ll involve a doctor’s appointment to get checked out. That’ll probably be the hardest part for me. I don’t do well at the doctor’s office at all. And I don’t mean I get a little uncomfortable. I flip out. Last February I had to go to the ER for some severe abdominal pains (turned out to be some swollen lymph nodes, so nothing serious—I know you were worried), and I almost fainted when they put the IV in. Last time I had to get a check-up, I almost fainted again because I knew I’d have to get my tetanus shot update. I haven’t had an actual, for-real, honest-to-god doctor’s exam in about 12 years. Karli’s counter is that if she has to get poked and prodded constantly till July, only to pass a watermelon out her hoo-hah (yes, that’s her actual words), then I can put up with a doctor’s appointment. Touché.
On another health-related note, Karli also wants to make sure I’m eating healthier and exercising. And I can’t say that I blame her, either. I’m kinda chunky. Okay, I’m fat. Not like “I can’t see my feet” fat, but certainly “I’m in danger of heart attacks and diabetes” fat. So, I can see that. I’ve kinda let myself go since we started dating. I’m kind of ashamed of how out of shape I’ve gotten. I don’t know how I’ll keep up with a toddler when I get winded on the toilet.
So it appears I’ll be cooking a lot more so we cut down a lot on going out to eat. Should be kind of interesting since I teach three nights a week. Lots of frozen meals this semester. And this week I’ll head down to the only gym in town to see what it’s like. I’m a little wary—both because it’s a small town and because it’s the new year, so there will probably be a whole bunch of people trying to follow through on a new year’s resolution for the first month or so. I’ll have to try not to get lost in the gaggle of new people and wait them out.
Is this something normal? Does everyone go through this part in the lead-up to parenthood? I suppose it’s a need for safety and security on Karli’s part, and making sure I’m not going to keel over tomorrow is part of normal Squatch preparation. And do people actually follow through with this? Or, even more importantly, do you think she’s going to kill me?