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Here's something nobody warned me about expecting a baby.

Today I'm going taking a quick break from my normal subjects to briefly give a warning to anybody else out there who's either planning a family or who just learned that they're pregnant.  Consider it a hard-learned Public Service Announcement.

Ahem.  Ready?

Everyone will talk to you like you're a fucking idiot.

It wasn't as much of a problem in the beginning.  The first few months, everybody was just super cheery and excited for us.  Lots of "Congratulations!" and warm wishes and the occasional offer for some babysitting, when we were ready.

Then the enthusiasm gradually turned into cheesy jokes and stereotypical jabs at gender roles.  Pointing to me, somebody would say to Steph, "You'll want him in the delivery room with you so he knows exactly what he did to you! Tee-hee!"  Sometimes this got on my nerves, but I shrugged it off and accepted it as just another form of well-wishing.  After all, some people express joy through airplane humor (them), and some people express joy by writing a book about murder and terrorism (me).

Then the cheesy jokes just started to give way to tidbits of over-generalized advice, or, at times, non-advice.  Things like, "You better make sure your house is safe."  Or, "Remember, you have another mouth to feed!"

That was when I started to get worried.  Here I am, a guy who I think most people regard as reasonably intelligent - competent enough not to kill a child through neglect, anyway - and yet I'm being offered astounding, life-changing witticisms such as, "Don't leave any rat poison where the kids can reach it."

But even so, I shrugged.  I said to myself, "People are just trying to be helpful in their own way.  And besides, nobody goes around talking to everybody they meet with specifically-tailored advice in the off chance that I'll take out a notepad and a pen to write it down.  I bet everyone's just trying to be polite and make idle chit-chat.  The way they share concern and empathy as a mature and caring adult human is to say things like this, so I'll just accept it with a smile and give in."

That kept me in the right mindset for awhile.  And that's when the medical staff started talking to us like we were both five years old.

They're actually an okay hospital once you get past the condescension.

"Now," a nurse will say, her face and her tone both relaxing into the saccharine-sick wanness of a Nick Jr. narrator, "remember to give Baby lots of good breastmilk, because those num-nums are pure gold!"

And Steph and I will exchange a look.  Is this lady for real?

But the nurse isn't done.  No, no, no... she'd like to explain a thing or two to us about bowel movements.  Except, she won't call them "bowel movements."  No, she'd much rather say, "Baby's gonna make diapers bunches of times a day!"

Make diapers.  Ugh.  You're a professional, lady.  Can't you at least have the decorum to use the word "poop?"

It's been like this for the last few weeks and I expect it will only get worse from here.  Nobody talks about bottles or pacifiers anymore.  They talk about "bah-bahs" and "binkies" - words from Hell used to keep infants stupid.

Listen, everyone...  I appreciate your input.  I really do.  But please, for the love of God, understand that I don't need to be talked to as a baby to care for a baby.  I'm pretty sure the thing I need most from the world is to be treated as the adult that I have to be.

Maybe better health insurance, too.  But one step at a time.