It’s Sunday night and, as many nights over the past year, I am sitting here alternating my attention from the headphones in my ears to the random British homemaking show on the television. One of the perks of having a remote gig, I suppose. But whilst I sit here, copy-editing the latest article dipping into the ever-enthralling world of the Kardashians, my mind is elsewhere. Like so far elsewhere, it’s a wonder I am even able to concentrate on this shit.
Oh, by the way: Hello, my name is Aaron Pruner. I am an entertainment journalist and actor in the city of Los Angeles. My wife and I are expecting our first child — whose due date was Friday — so, uh, welcome to my dad blog. I guess that’s what the kids call these things. May my anxiety disorder be your new best friend.
Back to what I was saying. I can’t concentrate on anything. My wife was due on Friday and here it is Sunday and, if this were my life, I’d be hustling my ass down to Dr. Whathisfuss’s office to get my whats-it-called fixer-upped for some baby-times. But, I am a Jew that loves medicine and my wife is the exact opposite. She won’t even take a Tylenol for a headache let alone opt for the epidural route for child-birthing.
I respect that. I just can’t quite wrap my head around it. We took a three-month-long class some months back that taught hypnosis techniques for an easier, more comfortable birthing. She asked me to go like I’d say no. (I would never say no, it’s her body and I’m here to support her as best as I can.) But it sounded like a bunch of hippie-dippie B.S. if you ask me. I have to say, though, after we were through with the course, I found a lot of what we learned to be quite helpful. Maybe there’s something to this concept of mindfulness and altering one’s perception of life.
Then again, I can’t even go through my day normally if I don’t have two cups of coffee in the A.M. to set me straight.
There’s a lot going through my head right now: 1) I never had a dad, how am I going to do this? 2) How will I not pass out in the hospital when the time comes? 3) How will I not puke in front of my child when she pukes? 4) What is the scariest thing I can dress a newborn as for Halloween?
People keep telling me I’m going to be a great dad. I suppose my humor has lived in the dad joke realm for quite some time. But, not having a dad around and going through what I went through as a kid leaves me with doubts. I get that is normal. But still …
Look, I never thought I’d get married let alone have children. I’ve now been married for four years and my daughter is coming any day now. This whole experience has really led me down recollection road. Some may call this my mid-life crisis, and it very well may be that, but there’s something about preparing to be a parent that makes you look back on your own life. And mine has been interesting. My cousin likes to remind me of the “cards I was dealt” and how I “overcame such odds.” It’s not like we escaped a war-torn third world country when I was a kid or anything.
Yes, my grandfather was killed by a palm tree landing on his car.
Yes, it was on my grandmother’s birthday.
Yes, this sorta tore my family apart.
A year later, my mom married a “friend of the Hells Angels” (he never stuck around, that’s another story for another entry.)
Two years after that, I was born. And my struggling mother and very Jewish grandmother raised me to the strapping young man you see before you.
Look, there’s really no modus operandi for this post. It’s the inaugural post for this dad blog thing I’m starting. But I needed to dust the cobwebs off and tell you guys, I’m equally excited and stark-raving mad over here. I’m about to have a daughter and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. And my right-wing in-laws, and well-wishing mother just. won’t. stop. calling.
Damn, Y’all think we ain’t gonna call when this baby arrives, huh?
I’m thinking it’s going to be soon, though.
In fact, to try and hurry things along, my wife and I just went and got this magical salad from a restaurant down the street that is rumored to induce birthing time (we don’t say labor in childbirth hypnosis class.) Pregnancy salads are a thing, apparently. As are “salad babies.” I don’t even know what reality I am living in at this point.
I swear if this kid comes in the next 24 hours, we shall be naming her Salad Pruner and I’ll be sold on the power of lettuce and dressing.