Most children survive despite their parents

Bringing home baby will be the main event today.

Skylar will be breaking in the new car seat provided by her Auntie Jess, sucking back formula in bottles sterilized by Granny Rose and taking her first nap in her Hundred Acre Woods themed room downstairs.

I'm not sure Gordie is ready for a baby.

He's not a very tolerant pug, that's for sure. He hates sharp noises and terrorizes cats, so a baby sighting might send him into complete cardiac arrest. We'll also have to keep Hannah at bay, as she is a love monster and will want to sit on Skylar.

And Jenkins, the cat, is a complete schizoid. He's already sat in the crib, in the car seat, on the mound of baby clothes. The downstairs apartment is his lair, so there will be some serious adjustment required.

Let's hope Sky's not allergic.

We're not a big allergy family, although I have developed sensitivities to pollen and cat dander in recent years. Both Nick and Shyla have been exposed to a vast menagerie of furry creatures over the years, so perhaps the immunities have crossed the placenta.

I'm like George Carlin, a big proponent of exposing a child to every germ possible so they build up tolerance. As George once observed, everybody in New York City used to swim in the Hudson River, which is full of shit, and nobody had allergies.

I wouldn't go quite that far -- there is a vacuum in this house -- but I do think that we go overboard in the cleaning department in this country.

Besides, I don't pay any attention to what the doctors say. They, like George, are pretty much full of shit most of the time.

Take the advice about how a child should sleep in her crib.

Our mothers were taught to put the child on its side. We were taught to lay the baby on its belly. Now mothers are being told to lay them on its back.

What do you do?

I asked the nurse at the hospital. She just shrugged.

I figure we put Sky in a variety of positions and see which one she likes.

Also, I'm a big fan of slapping the baby to make sure it's still breathing.

I do the same thing to the pugs and they hate me for it.

Whatever happens, we'll figure it out.

Most children survive despite their parents -- or grandparents.