Practice Makes Perfect

With just about 8 weeks to go, we are in full-on baby prep mode at the Kranz Household.  Everyone is lending a hand.  The baby is doing his (or her) part to keep me full sleep deprived.  I think this is some sort of initiation ritual so that the post-delivery experience is not quite so traumatic.  He (or she) has been increasingly active, and is now doing all sorts of acrobatics in utero that I find incredibly amusing to watch.  At any given moment you can see the baby doing somersaults across my belly, and then a foot will kick out to the left, then hands out to the right!  It is very entertaining, albeit a little uncomfortable now that there is some weight behind those kicks and punches.  In fact, a few days ago I got what I'm fairly sure was a hand lodged between two ribs!  I won't even get into how pleasant that was.

In addition to baby's efforts, Bernie has also been lending a hand.  I've been convinced for a few weeks that he knows something is up.  Our usually clingy dog has been glued to my side.  Instead of laying next to me, he now lays across my belly.  He has been frantic with worry if I leave the room without him.  None of this is too much of a stretch for him, but he has really amped up his need to be near me.  Hopefully this is a sign of future positive behavior from him once the baby is born.  (Or, as it was theorized last night, that the baby is a boy because, you know, the classic tale of a boy and his dog.)

So, anyway, Bernie is getting in on the practice action, too.  All day Thursday I could tell he just was not feeling well (I later learned he ate some trash Thursday morning).  He moped around, didn't eat much, and finally went to sleep in our bed at whatever time I went to sleep.  He was restless all night, and finally at about 2:30 he was sitting next to me, staring directly at me, whining.  We (me and Bernie) got up, and I thought he needed to go out, but instead he wanted a drink.  After putting down nearly an entire bowl of water, we went back to bed.  All was well until about 6:30 when he was up again, this time to throw up, all over the floor.  I rushed him outside, and spent the next 15 minutes scrubbing dog vomit up.  He was fine after that, just still not himself until last night.  As any good Dad would do, Eric got up to let him out this morning when he woke up. And now the two of them around sound asleep together.

As you can see, we'll be well-versed in the world of parenthood sleeplessness well before the babe shows.  Although, at this point, I can safely say that I have had enough practice, and would like a few consecutive nights of restful sleep.  I'm thinking they could be my last few for, oh, the next 22 years....