Maturity is in the eye of the beholder

Recently, I have become a student again. Once a week, for a couple of hours, I sit in a classroom, and learn how to be a parent. Or, that is what I thought we would learn about. Really, these classes are about everything from pregnancy, to labor, to birth and breastfeeding. I haven't learned any parenting skills yet.

What I have learned is that, no matter how old you are, watching videos of women in labor can bring you back to your seventh grade science class where you are watching "The Miracle of Birth" about a very hairy woman in the nineteen seventies. Many of the students, all first time parents, giggle behind their hands when they talk about "bowel movements" or show different laboring positions. Much like we all did in the seventh grade.

It is very validating to not feel like the most immature out of the bunch. I can handle a frank discussion about enemas. I can watch a woman grunt for long periods of time without exploding into laughter.

My husband, however, cannot. So when it comes time for you to take a parenting class, I will loan him to you. He makes everyone else seem like, at least, a senior in high school.