We have now entered the part of pregnancy when the products start to arrive. Although our apartment doesn’t quite look like a Babies ‘R’ Us yet, we have acquired a few new items that would indicate the presence of germy offspring to a prowler. Although I doubt it, the risk of pilfering a laptop or an iPad tainted with spit up would hopefully gross him out enough to make him leave.
Here are the larger items that have been acquired:
A bassinet. We want Bebe to stay with us in our bedroom when she first arrives, and our
glorified closet bedroom doesn’t have nearly enough space for a crib, so we asked for a bassinet for Christmas. And we got one from B’s mom! It is way cute. It has sqeaky little dangling sheep. B’s Schlepp is currently occupying it and my Nala and baby Simba – received in 1995 from Disney World for the low, low price of $75 – are guarding it. As our own parents had to take second mortgages out on their homes to provide us with these premium stuffed animals in our youth, I have a strong moral obligation to get some mileage out of them.
A combo stroller/carseat. Another Christmas present, my mom and brother went splitsies on this item. I cashed in my pregnancy chips and B got to put it together. I like it a lot based on the inherent value it provides in allowing us to leave our home with the baby. Granted, if we stay in Fayetteville, there will be very little for her to see and experience other than meth labs, but who am I to deny my baby the chance to see the world, albeit a world that revolves around Walmart customer service?
Holding her spot in the carseat is also Bebe’s first frog, who is currently unnamed. Our Froggert is “totes jeals” (his words) that this new frog has entered our home and is already wheedling its way into our hearts.
My only *very, very slight* qualm with the stroller is its color scheme. We’re – oh, let’s be honest – I am selecting items for the baby that are somewhat gender-neutral. In Babyland in 2012, apparently “gender-neutral” is predominantly dusty brown. I really wish I could find more red and green items that weren’t designer.
The Beebs has also gotten a whole bunch of onesies, blankets, and swadlers. They are piled up on a table in her closet, along with some beedy-eyed friends from our youth. They demand an offering of baby paraphernalia every time I open the door to the closet so as not to bring down curses on our offspring. I throw down a teething ring, a onesie, a pacifier – anything to ensure the safety of our home for one more day.
Such haphazard, fearful throwing is the only way to explain the disarray of the closet.
For Christmas, Bebe also received a Sleep Sheep from my cousin. Sleep Sheep is part of a line of stuffed animals that make soothing sounds to help Baby fall asleep. Or the parents. We have hijacked this item. It is:
Sorry, kid. Mommy and Daddy have decided that whatever it takes for us to get a good night’s rest these days trumps age-appropriateness. The fact that an adult married couple sleep flanking a sheep that makes whale sounds? And that we don’t refer to Sleep Sheep as “it” but as “she”? Irrelevant to a discussion of our grasp on reality.
Sure, we’ll get Bebe one for her own crib if she proves to need some assistance falling asleep. Begrudgingly. The original Sleep Sheep is OURS.
While on the subject of Stuff, I should also note that Bebe’s baby shower is in the works. Besfrinn Cameron’s mom Mary Beth is generously opening her home in Memphis to me and my menagerie in February. The only complication I can foresee in this undertaking is the custodial relegation of Sleep Sheep during the time I’m gone. B will be foregoing the festivities and staying back in North Carolina.
Sleep Sheep cannot be in two places at once. :/
Nevertheless, I am extremely excited about this event. Cameron is making the trip from Pasadena! Since this is likely the last time we’ll be together without husbands and children in tow for quite awhile, we are planning a sleepover the likes of which have not been had since we were seventeen. Activities on the agenda include parsing Smashing Pumpkins and Tori Amos lyrics, eating vast quantities of neon yellow cheese dip, and trolling AOL Instant Messenger to see which of our classmates would like to chat.
In actual baby news, everything continues to go swimmingly. The whole ordeal of the blood glucose test is over and done with. I failed the initial screening and had to go to an off-site lab to have the full battery of tests run, but they turned out clear.
The only alarming thing was that I evidently was not as grossed-out by the sweet drink they make you chug as 99.9% of the population seems to be. The kind they gave me just tasted like Kool Aid mixed by a three-year-old. I’ve had worse.
Bebe continues to be kicking a lot and has recently added the hiccups to her battery of cuteness. Seriously, the fact that ittle-bitty-babbies get the hiccups in dere mommies’ tum-tums is so adorably sweet I can’t believe it!
Sweet just like pure concentrated sugar syrup. My, how your tastes change when becoming a mother!