Someone just shoot me now and put me out of my misery.
I never, ever thought I would struggle with something that should simple and fun, probably, like…oh…I don’t know…A BABY REGISTRY.
At this point, the sprout will be lucky to have clothes on his back for the ride home. And that ride home is in the dead of winter, so that’d be a cold ass car seat surprise on a newly birthed bare bum.
I mean, really, y’all, do you have any idea how many different choices there are just for onesies?
A word I never thought would become part of my common vernacular.
But here we are.
Speaking onesies and burp clothes and bottle sizes and flow speeds…seriously? The hell? FLOW SPEEDS?
I don’t even know where to go with that.
probably should have put the registry together for me. Everyone would have been better off that way – namely the sprout.
At some point in my registry stupor, probably when my eyes were crossing with trucks, baseballs and boats, I completely gave up on registering for clothes and blankets.
I’m just going to live on a wing and a prayer that more than one person will find themselves out baby sprout shopping, see an outfit on a rack somewhere and be all, “OMG! SO CUUUUTE!” and buy it.
The sprout is totally screwed in the clothing department for his entire first year of life.
Because, of course, along with me neglecting the clothing category due to sheer sensory overload, I’m
pretty sure positive that I’ve failed miserably in selecting the right things to prepare the sprout for life outside the womb.
You think I’m joking?
I got so overwhelmed with the copious (Twenty-five cent word for me! Score!) amounts of lists on google with “must haves” and “vital things for baby” that I spent a week making a hugbogus spreadsheet with columns and rows and color coded boxes of DO WE HAVE THIS and WHERE IS IT and WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?
As for that last one, you can see for yourself what the hell I was doing.
I put the sprout’s registries on the sidebar of my blog…mostly for the family…but also for anyone else who wants to take a peek out of sheer curiosity OR to let me know what kind of super important gadget I’ve left off OR what ridiculous amounts of, “never gonna use that” I thought would be important.
Oh, I hear you snickering. Go ahead. Mock me now, you non-pregnant people.
Just. You. Wait.
One day? One day you’ll be in the same baby registry boat that I’m currently sinking, having to decide on nose suckers and sippy cups and an inordinate number of spiffy diaper rash ointments that don’t even really seem necessary.
You, too, will be having nightmares of bunting (I still don’t know what that means) and extra super water proof crib sheets and nipple creams from Zimbabwe.
And then, while you’re pulling out your hair and speaking in tongues, you’ll think back to this…then you’ll remember how (not) funny my predicament really was…because you’re not just registering for the first few months of the baby’s life. Oh, no. That’d be entirely too easy. No…you’re in for TWELVE MONTHS OF PRE-PLANNING.