My best friend, Steph (whom I have known since I was three), is pregnant with her first child. Steph would be the same individual who has an entire room for a closet.
Steph needed to register for her baby shower and plan the nursery on Saturday. The little angel and I were happy to assist. We arrived to find Stephanie buried in swatches and staring intently at a rocker-like chair. We debated the pros and cons of her chosen theme while the little angel set off across USA Baby looking for every stuffed animal she could possibly find and bringing them over for our approval.
Chair selected, we moved on to the stroller section. I prepared to discuss the pros and cons of a travel system versus a stand-alone. Her sister had recommended some stroller named Bob of which I've never heard and couldn't find in the store. Stephanie immediately stopped me.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't speak Baby. What the hell is a travel system?"
Making absolutely no progress, we moved on to high chairs, then finally slings and other things made of cotton. Stephanie was disturbed to hear that:
- Not all receiving blankets are cute.
- Yes, you need 85 of them.
- They will become cuter when they are not wet with vomit or urine or poop.
Then we decided we desperately needed lunch before preparing for the Physical Challenge, which is Babies R Us.
Steph told me over lunch that she and her husband have actually walked into Babies R Us a few times, then ran from the store screaming after seeing the walls of bottles in all sizes, shapes and flow speeds. I remembered Beloved mastering flow speeds before I did and saying patiently, "No, Rita, she needs a 2 nipple," as I stared stupidly before the baby who shrieked when the formula DID NOT COME OUT FAST ENOUGH.
Since she's going to breastfeed (like everyone) but doesn't know for how long (like everybody), doesn't know if she'll have to pump (like everybody) or what kind of pump it will be (like most), I suggested she buy some bottles just in case she wanted to invite her husband to experience the joy of night feedings. We walked over to the floor-to-ceiling wall of bottles, bottle cleaners, bottle sterilizers, pacis, bottle organization systems, bottle drying racks, et al. I could see Stephanie seizing up the closer we got to the wall, which, with the exception of the nipple balm section, is also the most terrifying for me in any baby store.
"I just scanned your butt," she said, while I stared intently at flow-speed instructions on various brands of bottles.
"You're not helping."
"There. I scanned your butt again. Why do I care about flow speed?"
And then I shared one of the secrets of baby products: They're about the baby only indirectly. As in: If the baby is not screaming, the parent is more sane. Give the baby what does not cause her to scream. If she wants the formula faster, give her the bigger nipple. SO SHE DOES NOT SCREAM. If she wants to be closer to you, put her in your bed or buy a toddler bed earlier SO SHE DOES NOT SCREAM. If she likes the Nuk versus another brand of paci, give her what she wants SO SHE DOES NOT SCREAM.
As I was wrapping up my PowerPoint presentation on babies not screaming, the little angel reappeared with the 356th stuffed animal of the day. "Isn't it CUUUUTTEE?" she said.
Stephanie smiled. "Yes, sweetie, it's adorable."
Then she looked at me. "I just scanned your butt again."
