Over the weekend, Mike and I took a parenting and baby 101 class. I was happy that I kind of knew most of the stuff they were talking about. In the class, Mike and I were given custody of a little baby girl. The name on her bracelet was “Diana Hospital.” We developed a nice relationship with her. We swaddled her, bathed her, changed her poopy diaper, pretended she had a wiener for some parts, and then learned how to rectally take her temperature. We felt confident taking care of our child for the day. Even though she was just a doll, I think she was happy with her treatment. We were gentle and caring and always tried to treat her like a real baby. We left class with a sense of accomplishment so we treated ourselves to giant cheeseburgers for dinner at Portillo’s which is conveniently located across the street from the hospital (not that that had anything to do with my choice in hospitals or anything…). With the idea of me being a parent, no longer being Stefanie, but being mom, just a few months away, I was thinking about all the annoyingly sage advice my own mom …

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