Hee. Hee. Hoo.

My sister Jennifer and her husband Andy are expecting their first baby in April. So exciting!!!! I can't wait!!! My mother, whose other two grandchildren live far away in Calgary, is so excited, she has taken to referring to the baby as her baby. Which kind of freaks out my brother-in-law. Andy is out in Alberta for a couple of months working with a friend, so I have been filling in for him at pre-natal classes. Um, if I ever was feeling a little blue about being defective and not able to have my own babies, NOT ANYMORE!!!!! Holy crap! This is some serious shit. I am a little freaked, and I am only the fill-in coach. Plus, I had to see and hear some stuff that as a non-childbearer, I should have lived my whole life not knowing. I did manage to go the whole time without sticking my fingers in my ears and going "lalalalalalala" to drown out the instructor's words, but just barely.

On the bright side, I rock at the labour breathing. Hee. Hee. Hoo. Or, as the instructor said, Pant. Pant. Blow. Which, if I ever join an internet dating site, is totally going to be my screen name. Seriously, I am so good at the breathing. I watched some childbirth show one time years ago (I don't remember why. Possibly I was drunk, since I can't ever imagine intentionally watching something like that), and ever since I have used labour breathing to deal with everything from cramps to migraines to a stubbed toe. Seriously, it really helps. Not on skunk related pain, but not much helps with that. I am so good at the breathing, in fact, I almost want to go into the delivery room with Jen, just so I can help her breathe. Well, as long as I don't have to see anything besides a pretty, clean, new baby or hear anything other than the sound of my own breathing. Hee. Hee. Hoo.