Babyhood

by Paul Reiser Narrated by Paul Reiser

Overview

I'm going to be totally honest.**This is not the kind of audiobook that can help you.**It's not a "how-to," a "when-to," or a "what-to-expect."**It's not even endorsed by anyone remotely connected to the medical profession.**(Although a cousin of mine who sells carpeting to doctors' offices not only found it "insightful" and "informative," but felt that, "if properly vacuumed, it should last a lifetime.")

"A fine endorsement," you say.**"But if I have only one audiobook to buy, shouldn't I go for the helpful one?"

Let's compare:

Those "know-it-all" books tell you how to have a happy, healthy pregnancy.**My book mentions a squirrel.

Those books tell you how to care for a newborn child.**My book describes how tired I am.

Those books give you essential information you can use in a life-threatening emergency.**My book has some very amusing anecdotes about poop.

So really, it's up to you.

If you want to be prepared and well-informed, I understand.**But if you enjoy hearing the words "pterodactyl" and "uterus" in the same book, you've come to the right place.

Editorial Reviews

Chicago Tribune

This book hits home and hits the funnybone, for the couple considering parenthood as well as for parents who are decades past their days of diaper changing.

Los Angeles Times

Reiser knows how to wrench a laugh from sticky situations. And in his life, since his firstborn arrived, every situation has been sticky or moist.

San Antonio Express-News

A fun read...Paul Reiser has put his delightfully humorous touch on life as a new parent.

Detroit News

This book won't help you be a better parent, but it might put you in a better frame of mind about the whole experience...Babyhood will be a nice read while you're rocking your own little one's cradle.

San Francisco Chronicle

An out-loud laugh on every page...Paul Reiser is one of the few stand-up comics-turned-sitcom-stars who can be genuinely funny in print..if you are thinking about having a baby, Reiser's Babyhood is your indispensible...guide.

From the Publisher

"This book hits home and hits the funnybone, for the couple considering parenthood as well as for parents who are decades past their days of diaper changing."--"Chicago Tribune"Reiser knows how to wrench a laugh from sticky situations. And in his life, since his firstborn arrived, every situation has been sticky or moist."--"Los Angeles Times"A fun read...Paul Reiser has put his delightfully humorous touch on life as a new parent."--"San Antonio Express-News"This book won't help you be a better parent, but it might put you in a better frame of mind about the whole experience..."Babyhood will be a nice read while you're rocking your own little one's cradle."--"Detroit News"An out-loud laugh on every page...Paul Reiser is one of the few stand-up comics-turned-sitcom-stars who can be genuinely funny in print..if you are thinking about having a baby, Reiser's "Babyhood is your indispensible...guide."--"San Francisco Chronicle

Product Details

BN ID:	2940169291711
Publisher:	Penguin Random House
Publication date:	07/05/2000
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

In the Beginning

0kay, so here's what happened.

We're on a plane, my lovely wife and myself, sipping a tasty beverage, eating as many really salty nuts as we feel like, enjoying a perfectly bad movie together -- in short, having a grand old time.

We had been married several years, gone through the rosy early parts, through all the scary stuff that comes immediately after rosy, and navigated ourselves successfully through enough little ups and downs to land on our feet and know with confidence that we were very good together and very much in love. Life was very nice.

So we're on this plane, and across the aisle from us was another couple, about our age, traveling with their two children -- a two-year-old girl and a very new boy who, though tiny in stature, had a crying scream so piercing, it was annoying people on other planes. The parents looked like hell. No kidding, they just looked like life had taken them by the ears and twirled them violently around in circles until finally, exhausted, weakened, and drained of even the capacity to imagine joy, they were flung into the seats next to us.

The little girl was running up and down the aisle, tripping on people's luggage, screaming when anybody talked to her, and screaming a tad louder when everyone tried to ignore her and not talk to her. The baby was wailing literally without pause from the Redwood Forest to the Gulf Stream Waters.

Somewhere over the midwestern states, the two-year-old took a couple of bites of airline macaroni -- and then reconsidered, shooting the remains quite dramatically onto her daddy'sjacket.

The mom, whose hair was graying before our eyes and caked with baby spittle and something else puddinglike, was spending the last of her waning energy trying to shield her eyes from her squirming infant's fast-flying fists.

When not occupied roping in their children or apologizing to the growing numbers of irritated passengers around them, the dad was busy either bending or reaching to find one of a truly frightening number of carry-on bags, collapsible strollers, fuzzy toys, and assorted burdensome baby paraphernalia.

There was virtually no conversation between the two adults. What words were spoken were in the form of barked orders, desperate pleas for help, and bitter assignments of blame.

"Why are you letting her eat that?"

"I didn't."

"What -- she opened the jar of macadamia nuts herself?"

"No, she must have gotten it from the -- "

"Just take it from her."

"I will, if you just give me a second here..."

My wife and I, plastic champagne cups in hand, watched this circus for a good long while, then turned to each other and simultaneously said, "May the Lord protect us from ever becoming that."

Now, lest you think us unkind, let me point out that we're actually very nice people. And, in fact, we had always planned to have kids ourselves someday. Not Today, and not necessarily Tomorrow, but definitely Someday.

However, as we observed these people, we had all the reason we needed to push Someday back even later on the schedule. Watching this unfortunate display, all I could think was "Why? Why do that to ourselves?" Now that we had finally figured out how to successfully live together as two people, why would we want to jeopardize everything with a whole new human being for whom we'd be responsible every moment of every day for many, many years? I mean, the Couple Dance is tricky enough -- dancing as a threesome would have to be impossible.

Three has always been tougher than Two. Think of any of your famous threesomes. The Three Stooges? Look at the anger there. My bet is that before Curly was born, Moe and Larry could play together for hours without even a single poke in the eye. Huey, Dewey, and Louie? Donald Duck never had a moment's peace. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly? I rest, my case.

0ver the years, my wife and I had each argued convincingly every reason both for and against starting a family, but had somehow managed never to share the same opinion on the same day.

"What if we want to travel?"

"You can travel with kids," I would counter.

"Not to Africa."

"Who's going to Africa?"

"I'm just saying, hypothetically. What if we wanted to pick up and go to Africa?"

"Do you want to go to Africa?"

"Not particularly."

"So?"

"But, someday, I might..."

The problem with this type of argument is that on closer inspection, when you list all the things you fear you'd have to give up if you had a kid, you can't help but notice it's actually a pretty pitiful list.

"What else? What specifically are you afraid you're not going to be able to do with a kid that you do now?"

"Okay -- sleep?"

"Fine. Are we really going to forgo being parents so we can nap?"

"Maybe...And what about going to the movies?"

"You can still go to the movies with kids."

"Yeah, but not whenever I want."

This is where the argument starts to crumble: When you realize you would consider not having a child just so you could take an occasional snooze and be available to see Batman Retires the same weekend it comes out, you have to take a good hard look at yourself and acknowledge, "I am a shallow, shallow person."

Which, if you need it, can be a perfectly valid reason for the "against" team.

"Hey, we can't have kids -- we're too shallow."

On the other hand -- batting for the "maybe we should have kids" team -- we both saw the appeal in creating an entire new person who would be, in essence, a tiny "us." We spent a lot of time deciding which features of ours we'd want to pass down, which ones would be better off to skip.

Babyhood. Copyright © by Paul Reiser. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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