Here There be Dragons

 My wife and I have very different concerns when it comes to our soon-to-be-born children.  Obviously we both want them to be born healthy, and safely.  It's after the birth that we will worry about different things.  As a male, I know how terribly evil my gender is...yes, we do only think about one thing...and yes, we are always looking for it.  So I'll worry about that, for the next 25 years or so.  My wife has more wide spread fears (many of which lead to hours of work or drastic life changes for me).  

We've spent the last while fixing up little things around our home.  I wouldn't call it baby proofing, because it's not the fine stuff, like electrical socket covers, just yet.  It's more along the lines of tacking down loose cords or getting rid of furniture to clear space.  My wife looks around the house and sees a danger zone for babies.   I'm pretty sure she is determined to keep the twins right where they are now, until I fix everything up.

We had electrical work done some time ago.  The electrician needed to make a couple small holes in one of our living room walls to fish a wire through.  I swore I'd patch them up, but just never seemed to get around to it (they were behind the curtain...no one looks behind the curtain), until yesterday.  To my wife, those holes were death pits waiting to swallow a baby's arm.  Electrical wire had been run through there!  Surely it had frayed and the protective coating had completely torn away during installation.  She could smell the ozone caused by the arcing.  By the time the holes were patched, sanded and painted there was a list of other potentially death dealing home deficiencies that needed to be tackled (while the tools were out) like smoothing the finish on the door cover of the water meter enclosure.  I for one, would not want my baby girls to grind down their finger tips when I send them to the basement to take a meter reading for daddy.

My wife has been in charge of caring for and protecting our babies, by herself, up until this point.  The nine months that they have spent curled up, safely within her, has made my wife very protective.  When they are born, she is obviously going to have to share the responsibility of child care with me.   And I honestly understand that that is going to be very difficult...but so do the manufactures of children's goods.  Dads-to-be, I'm warning you now that there are thousands of products specifically designed to trigger your wife's fears that you are a bumbling buffoon unable to care for a child without the aid of some gadget.  We went shopping yesterday, looking specifically for a baby bath towel that my wife had read about.  When we got to the store, she showed me the item.  It was a combination apron and ultra soft towel that you wear during bath time.  When you are done bathing the baby, you are supposed to snuggle the child up in the towel, which is firmly tied about your neck.  You wrap them in such a way as to create a pocket anchored at three points, both hands and your neck, thus preventing you from dropping the child.  My wife held it up in front of me admiring how charming I would look wearing it...but I saw in her eyes the fear.  In her mind was a scene starring me and the twins.  It's bath time and I'm unable to manage their little, wriggling bodies.  Each time I get hold of one she shoots up in the air like a slippery bar of soap.  The scene ends with a dance number and an amazing baby juggling act. 

 I said no thanks to the apron/towel thing.  I told her, that after I have bathed one of our girls, (obviously as newborns I won't bathe them both at the same time...) I will place her on a flat, soft surface on which I had already laid out a towel.  I will pat her dry, gently.  Then diaper her, dress her, swaddle her and carry her to her crib/seat/play area.  I think that describing the actions and care I would take in bathing my babies gave my wife some relief.  She put the apron/towel thing back on the rack...but I'm pretty sure I know what I'm getting for christmas.

I know how hard it's going to be for my wife once she has birthed the twins and they are roaming around freely outside of her protective belly.  I honestly won't be surprised, the first time I put on my winter coat, to find a length of yarn run through both sleeves and and tied to my daughters' wrists to prevent me from loosing them.