The Parent Trap

Going to a birthing class in Germany is a rather strange experience. When the Germans will have died out, historians might find some of the reasons for the Teutonic demise in those weekends of organized rude awakening. First it was encouraging to see, that I won't be the oldest dad in town. Munich's definitely Germany's Striver's Row, so the young parents were mostly not so young, instead they exuded a sense of affluence and general happiness about starting a family at this point in their lifes. Well not so fast!

In comes the midwife. A mid-30s down to earth seeming lady with a strange approach to getting young parents ready. The majority of the class consists of separating the genders for therapeutic excersises. So all guys go to the other side of the room to write down the changes they expect. Now the lists on both sides of the room get long and longer. Nobody wants to seems oblivious to the strains parenthood will bring. Much to the delight of the midwife, who reads the lists aloud, just to exclaim: "Yes! It's gonna be so bad! But you ain't seen nothing yet! It's gonna be so much worse!". Same exercise model is repeated for - birthing pains, marriage troubles, work difficulties. All with a slight 70s slant of blaming patriarch society. When she demonstrates the unfairness of the parent workload and one of the young fathers dares to mention that he'll work 10 hours a day to support his family, he's met with bitter disdain. Last exercise for the weekend - write a letter to your partner, that she will send out in five months.

I guess I should've read the course's subtilte: "Welcome to 18 years of hell!" S & L are going to a class in New York today. Curious if they dish out extra helpings of pessimism and despair. But I guess we haven't learned anything. Still looking forward. Very much so!