Ugh. I don’t know why I forgot so quickly how much I despised registering for our wedding. Or maybe it’s not so much that I forgot, but more that I thought it would be a lot more fun/less stressful registering for baby stuff. I mean, clearly picking out baking dishes and thread count is far more extensive and exhausting than choosing which carseat will be responsible for keeping your kid alive in case of an accident, right? And registering is just like shopping without spending money, so that should be fun by definition. *Sigh*
I started the day out excited about our little trip out to Babies R Us. I did my research, started my wishlist online, wrote down products that I’ve heard other moms recommend and the products they said to stay away from. It was going to be fun, damnit. We would go together and gleefully scan the things that our future son would need to have a happy comfy life outside of the womb. We would walk hand in hand and talk about how neat it will be to finally have a baby to put in that Baby Bjorn. And then we would come home with a sense of accomplishment…. Wrong.
Instead, we get there and have to listen to this long tutorial on what to register for and how to register for it. I kept saying we knew about all of this, that it was only a couple years ago that we did this for our wedding and we’ve already done our research on the baby stuff and no I don’t need you to recommend a good stroller – we would like to be on our way. When they finally handed over our precious gun I was ready to get things started. My plan of attack was big things first, then little things. We aren’t even registering for that much big stuff. We are buying our own stroller, infant seat, high chair and nursery furniture, just to name a few. Most of which are not sold there or are only sold on their website. Well, of course that didn’t make the BRU people very happy and they insisted we go talk to the stroller person to see if there was anything in the store that may work for us. They were also very insistent that we follow the ginormous checklist of baby crapola they gave us to complete our registry. Stop. pushing. your. crap. on. me.
After breaking lose from all of that we managed to get a few big items scanned in – pack & play, bouncer, swing, etc. Of course, my husband starts complaining that everything on our registry is going to be so expensive and people are going to judge us and nobody is going to get us anything. I don’t know how many times I had to point out that we were starting with the big stuff first. If he could just be a little patient, I’m sure we would add plenty of cheaper stuff from the crapola list later.
I thought I had a pretty good handle on things after we got done with the big stuff. It wasn’t that hard. I knew what was good and what wasn’t. Off to bottles, bibs and Boppies! Yeah….that’s when it got a little more overwhelming. Do you know just how many TYPES of bottles there are? Billions – must be. So I say lets just register for a few of a few different brands. Okay, but what about nipples and bottle cleaners and bottle spinners? Do they all have to match the brand they are made for? Deep breath…move on…will ask friends and family more about bottles later. Stop in safety aisle. Responsible parents should get monitors. So many to choose from. There are video monitors! Shit. Those are expensive. Are they necessary? Are we bad parents if we just get an old fashioned monitor? Will people judge us for registering for a monitor that is so expensive? Find one that says Sony on the box. Sony is good. We like Sony. It’s not a bad price. We scan the Sony and hope it doesn’t lead to the death of our child.
My husband has visibly lost interest at this point. I’m getting annoyed that he’s not into it. How can he not be into this? This is stuff for the baby! The baby that he has begged me for for five years. His first born son. Deeper breath…scan thermometer. Realize it’s just for ear temps and wonder if we need a rectal one too. Scan rectal thermometer. Have a brief flash forward of me sticking it up my poor baby’s butt. Move on. Ahh…the Tiny Diner placemat. That was on my wishlist! Scan. What? What was that? You want me to take that off? You suddenly have interest in what I’m scanning? You think you have an opinion all of the sudden? Oh, you’re getting bored?! We’ve been here 45 minutes, 15 minutes of which was taken up by the chatty sales lady!
So that’s pretty much how it ended. Well, only to be followed by a lengthy argument on the way home about how he thinks the $10 placemat is ridiculous and will be pissed if people buy that for us instead of something we really need like bottles, and how we should take all that expensive stuff off because his family is going to think we’re pretentious and that we should just have cheaper items on there and then trade them all in for the expensive stuff. What the fuck kind of logic is that?! We didn’t register for a diamond encrusted pacifier! We registered for shit by Fisher Price and Graco. I really don’t give a shit if people think it’s too expensive. Don’t buy it. I don’t have the mindset that people have to buy us stuff. It’s just on there in case they want to. If we have to, we will buy it all for ourselves – that’s fine. I’m not about to register for something that I think is a piece of crap just because it’s half the price.
Oh, and I LOVE how all of the sudden he can decide what we do and don’t need. I ask what kind of research he’s done. Who has he talked to? His brothers perhaps? Done any online research or reviews and ratings? No. But I’m the one making the crazy decisions and adding such a frivolous item like a $10 suction cup rubber placemat.
We’re home. He’s watching some stupid ass Sci Fi movie about the Tin Man or some crap from the Wizard of Oz in the bedroom and I just finished up about 8 crab rangoons and am about to make myself 8 more and call it dinner. I may try to clean up the mess that is our registry online, or maybe I will just go back out there by myself tomorrow…or maybe I just won’t deal with it at all and our baby can sleep on a dog bed and wear pillowcases for the first few months.
19 weeks 1 day
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