The Stuff You Don't Need

There I was, 9 months swollen and frantically searching the isles of Babies R Us, bumping all products, all people in my path.  If I’d heard of it and hadn’t gotten it at a shower, I threw it in the cart.  Tubes of nipple cream?  I’ll take five.  Butt-wipe warmers?  Yes, please.  Singing clock, indeed, I need.  Play-mats, play-pens, and more. “And” I shouted towards the 16 year old male store clerk, “isn’t there some kind of belly band that makes you skinny again?  ‘Cause I’m gonna need one of those.”

My poor husband stood there in a daze, mouth open, eyes wide and watched the debauchery unfold.  I saw the look in his eyes.  In my head, I could hear him saying “Do we really have the money for this junk?” and “Is all this stuff really necessary?”  But it was no use.  I had lost complete control. 

You see, if it wasn’t obvious already, I am a first time mom.  And I had to be fully equipped for the job, which at the time to me meant buying crap.  One of my girlfriends made a list for me of all the ‘amenities’ I needed to purchase before baby showed up: ‘exersaucer, play-mat, mobile, jumpy chair…’ the list went on.  So in my mind, I was just listening.

A disgruntled husband, two Johnny Jump Ups and 101 storybooks later, our daughter was born.  As to be expected, I forgot about all the junk we purchased that awaited her back home.  Before she arrived, I had neatly organized all of her toys and clothes; everything had a perfect spot.  But when we got home, I couldn’t be bothered to put toys in front of her face, much less read her a book.  And all she could do was barf.  Every thoughtfully sorted burp cloth and toy ended up soiled, and on a pile in a corner somewhere. 

We survived those first few weeks.  And here I sit, three months later.  I have yet to break into the closet of must haves.  It seems she delights more in looking at mine and my husband’s faces than any fancy, brightly flashing toy we’ve dangled in front of her.  I suppose I’m learning just as much as she is at this point.    

Ah, well.  I’ll chalk my shopping binge up to being a rookie.  “Well, I won’t let it happen again,” I promised my husband, sheepishly grinning while recently looking through the closet of unnecessaries.  “And at least NEXT TIME I’ll really know what we need.”  This time a look of terror overtook his face.  Only it wasn’t the purchases that had him freaked.      

Original Rocky Mountain Moms Blog Post.  When Brie isn't catching up from early mommy-hood sleep deprivation, she can be found making light of things on her blog: Brie's Blunderings.