Over drinks recently, a friend of mine told me his girlfriend was pregnant, and that he’s got a boy on the way in October. Huzzah!
Actually, it took me a second to react to his news, partly because I was asking myself a question: Should I give him the same “Get ready for fatherhood” book I’d been recommending to expectant fathers the past year?
The book is called Be Prepared, by Gary Greenberg and Jeannie Hayden. And on the surface, it’s wonderful—written in a wry, humorous, Boy Scout Manual style, with postwar-esque illustrations and seemingly sage advice:
- • “Even if you haven’t noticed any strange mutations in the local fauna, it’s a good idea to sterilize the water that you use in formula for the first three months by boiling it.”
- • “Some parents use metronomes to put their babies to sleep, but in lieu of that, try reggae music. The beat is solid and steady, and it’s got a natural bouyancy that will complement your rocking.”
- • On transitional objects: “Steer her toward something that is easily replaceable, like an Elmo doll, rather than a hard-to-find item, like a 1986 Boston Red Sox American League Champs felt pennant.”
The book goes on like this, covering the first year with jaunty confidence. The thing is, I don’t think I ever actually used much of its advice. I never used my daughter as a prop to get out of jury duty or get seats at a sporting event, I never tied a helium balloon to her leg to entertain her, I quickly diverged from the book’s bathing instructions to a more effective method. I never made a decoy drawer full of old remote controls, cell phones, keys, and credit cards; I never fabricated an emergency diaper from an old sock, a dishtowel, and duct tape.
At the same time, reading Be Prepared relaxed me—it got to the heart of my anxieties much more effectively than “What to Expect” or any of the other, more traditional tomes could have. And so, I’ll likely pass it on to this next new dad-to-be, maybe with this caveat: You can read “Be Prepared,” but you know what? You’ll never truly be prepared.
Sounds like a fairly decent instructional manual. But it sounds like a better read just for the humor!
As the father of SIX I can tell you that while one book may work with one or two pygmies, you will have to rewrite parts of the book with every other child.
But then, not many men could be manly enough to be Benevolent Leader over Six Angry Pygmies on his own! (Bowing is not necessary)
When we were expecting our first kids (twins) everybody kept telling me “get plenty of sleep now, because you won’t be getting much later.” Which was true, but frankly not all that helpful. I wish they had said “have lots of sex now.” Because, really, you can only get so much sleep.