CPR

In our attempts to find more things to worry about, we found a whopper last night. Let me preface this by saying, we have no plans to raise our girl in a bubble. She’s going to get hurt from time to time, maybe break a bone once in her life (both Corrie and I did), and there’s no reason to handcuff her to the radiator just because it’s a dangerous world. Furthermore, we haven’t spent the last 30 weeks worrying about all the dangerous things out there to protect her from. The infant CPR class though seemed like something we should know, just in case, knowing there’s a high likelihood that we won’t ever get to use what we learned.

To all future babysitters out there, we won’t require you to be certified before we leave you with our daughter. Wouldn’t hurt the tip you get at the end of the night if you are, but that’s entirely up to you.
Last nights class though was all business. No introductions, no hob-nobbing between couples, just straight to the life threatening stuff. Personally, I appreciated the specific nature of it all. This is exactly how many compression you should do before calling 911. This is where you should place your fingers. This is how hard to breath into their mouths. There’s a comfort in having the facts that nicely balances the terror in knowing what can actually happen.

We wrapped up the night with a free flowing discussion of pretty much everything safety related. Christmas is a tough time apparently, what with every poisonous plant specifically culled out to celebrate the holidays. Poinsettias, holly, mistletoe, all of it deadly. Only if you don’t notice your baby stuffing her face with it that is.
Lastly, on the way out, our instructor casually mentions the importance of installing the baby seat correctly before you drive home from the hospital. Swelling with pride, having gotten the new wagon, and the car seat already, I figured we were way ahead of the game. Turns out, for those with a finely tuned ear for irony, that our specific model of Car (Outback Subaru) and our specific model of car seat (Graco), results in the hardest combination to make work. Most complaints our teacher hears are from Outback/Graco families. Aint that a kick in the pants?