My baby is five kilometers away from me. This is the farthest we've ever been separated, and will likely be the longest stretch of time, too. Apart from when she's sleeping, but even then I'm no more than 10 metres from her (living in a tiny house as we do).
Man decided he was going to take her to work this morning to give me a chance to rest. He feels bad because I do all the nighttime feedings and changings, but really Squeaky is an easy enough baby, and he works mad hard hours, so why shouldn't I get up? (The other night she slept from 11:30 p.m. to 6 a.m. - not an unusual occurrence - and she's five weeks old! I know I may be crowing a little too soon, but for now I do count myself lucky beyond measure.)
So my baby is at work with her father being showed off to all and sundry. This makes me glad. What makes me sad is the five kilometers separating them and me. What makes me mad is the thought of his mother getting all handsy with my baby, and breathing her smoke-filled breath into my baby's ear as she tries to Shhhh her. (Newsflash, Grandma: Babies cry! Just because you spanked your oldest child at six weeks to make him sleep through the night does NOT make you an expert on Shhhing babies.)
And now I've gone and gotten myself all riled up. There will be no rest for me. I guess I'll just HAVE to get dressed and drive those five kilometers to get my baby back. Shame.
But I don't want Man to think I'm checking up on him, because I'm totally not - he's a wonderful father, he's got all the diapering accessories he'll need and a bagful of expressed breastmilk. And I REALLY need to get over my irrational anger towards his mother when it comes to Squeaky. So, as Man pointed out, this will be good for me in the long run. Better still if I actually use the time to get some sleep. Wish me luck, dear Interwebs.
Showing posts with label baby showers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby showers. Show all posts
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Survivor: Baby-shower edition
I'm pregnant. Man and I are renovating his house. We're renting out my house. My office has been short-staffed since September. I live in a small, small town hours from any friends (and half a world away from my best friend. Seriously. She thought it would be a good idea to move to China and LEAVE ME ALL ALONE right before I got pregnant).
Anyway. I couldn't stress about everything, so I decided to focus my anxiety on just one upcoming Life Event. My baby shower.
I'm not fond of being the centre of attention. I'm shy. And I hate getting gifts for gifts' sake. (I've been trying to talk my extended family out of wasting their money every Christmas for the past 10 years, to no avail). So a situation that requires me to be the centre of attention, among dozens of women, some of whom I don't know very well, and accept piles of gifts? Well I'm not real down with that.
Then there was the gift registry: to register, or not to register? I find gift registries greedy, but people are going to buy gifts anyway, so I may as well suck it up and gently guide them in the right direction, right? So I registered at two local stores that sell mostly adorable and/or hilarious natural baby gear and local products. Nothing on my list was more that $20. I refused to let one store gather all my requests in a glass display case with my name on it as they would usually do, because I didn't want people to feel obligated to get me something on the list. And I forbade my mother from telling anybody about the lists unless they asked outright.
Yeah. the registry backfired. I did get some wonderful things from the shops, but I also got a massive amount of newborn onesies and sleepers and - get this - not one single receiving blanket. Thirty women, most of them mothers, and not one receiving blanket among them. All my research into baby shower etiquette and what-to-expect led me to expect a ton of receiving blankets. Funny how that worked out.
Next up, the games. Oh god, the games. I was dreading the games. I had strict guidelines: No chocolate-in-diaper games. No guess-my-circumference games. No guess-my-weight games. No taste-that-baby-food games. Name games might be allowed. Word games would be acceptable. So there was a delightful program of guess-how-many-Q-tips-are-in-the-baby-bottle game (207). An unscramble-the-baby-word game (which was hard!), and a match-that-name-to-its-meaning game (We used the names of everyone present). There was also a prize for the person with a birthday closest to my due date, and a lucky plate and bowl prize. All tolerable.
Then there was the gift opening that went on forever. It's a tough balance between wanting to get it over asap so we can get to the food, and wanting to spend equal time admiring every gift so no one feels left out. Also, there was LOTS to admire, because baby stuff is frickin' cute. (Living several hours away from the Big City, I didn't know just how much cuteness could be had when your shopping choices are not limited to Walmart).
All in all, I came away fairly unscathed, with a mountain of baby clothes and blankets and a couple of gift certificates to use as needed. I hope everyone had a nice time. And I can't begin to express how much that pile of baby clothes and gear will help come April. I've re-thought the game thing, and concede that some games are more than acceptable, and actually expected. I also went in telling myself the gifts are for BABY, not for me, which helped ease my aversion to gifts.
Next up: Baby Shower, Round Two... the one that made up for the lack of receiving blankets.
Anyway. I couldn't stress about everything, so I decided to focus my anxiety on just one upcoming Life Event. My baby shower.
I'm not fond of being the centre of attention. I'm shy. And I hate getting gifts for gifts' sake. (I've been trying to talk my extended family out of wasting their money every Christmas for the past 10 years, to no avail). So a situation that requires me to be the centre of attention, among dozens of women, some of whom I don't know very well, and accept piles of gifts? Well I'm not real down with that.
Then there was the gift registry: to register, or not to register? I find gift registries greedy, but people are going to buy gifts anyway, so I may as well suck it up and gently guide them in the right direction, right? So I registered at two local stores that sell mostly adorable and/or hilarious natural baby gear and local products. Nothing on my list was more that $20. I refused to let one store gather all my requests in a glass display case with my name on it as they would usually do, because I didn't want people to feel obligated to get me something on the list. And I forbade my mother from telling anybody about the lists unless they asked outright.
Yeah. the registry backfired. I did get some wonderful things from the shops, but I also got a massive amount of newborn onesies and sleepers and - get this - not one single receiving blanket. Thirty women, most of them mothers, and not one receiving blanket among them. All my research into baby shower etiquette and what-to-expect led me to expect a ton of receiving blankets. Funny how that worked out.
Next up, the games. Oh god, the games. I was dreading the games. I had strict guidelines: No chocolate-in-diaper games. No guess-my-circumference games. No guess-my-weight games. No taste-that-baby-food games. Name games might be allowed. Word games would be acceptable. So there was a delightful program of guess-how-many-Q-tips-are-in-the-baby-bottle game (207). An unscramble-the-baby-word game (which was hard!), and a match-that-name-to-its-meaning game (We used the names of everyone present). There was also a prize for the person with a birthday closest to my due date, and a lucky plate and bowl prize. All tolerable.
Then there was the gift opening that went on forever. It's a tough balance between wanting to get it over asap so we can get to the food, and wanting to spend equal time admiring every gift so no one feels left out. Also, there was LOTS to admire, because baby stuff is frickin' cute. (Living several hours away from the Big City, I didn't know just how much cuteness could be had when your shopping choices are not limited to Walmart).
All in all, I came away fairly unscathed, with a mountain of baby clothes and blankets and a couple of gift certificates to use as needed. I hope everyone had a nice time. And I can't begin to express how much that pile of baby clothes and gear will help come April. I've re-thought the game thing, and concede that some games are more than acceptable, and actually expected. I also went in telling myself the gifts are for BABY, not for me, which helped ease my aversion to gifts.
Next up: Baby Shower, Round Two... the one that made up for the lack of receiving blankets.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
One more advantage I have over my grandmother? A baby shower.
The thought of a baby shower stresses me out to the max, because I dislike being the centre of attention, and I especially dislike accepting gifts that people spent too much money on (and baby stuff is notoriously overpriced), and what if I unwrap a gift a positively loathe? How can I possible fake genuine appreciation? Oh god, the thought of a shower just works me up.
But two things changed.
1. Knowing that we can't possibly afford everything, and really I ought to take all the advice and equipment I can get.
2. Reading about a fabulous baby shower idea, one that made me immediately grab the phone and dial my mother, commandeering her into arranging: a Book baby shower! Where the guests all bring books for the baby! So Baby can have a fully stocked library right from the get-go! Now this is a baby shower I can live with.
So the baby-book shower is in.
Unfortunately I know a regular-type shower is inevitable (probably three of them, considering the location of my, my family and Man's family), and now I'm toying with the idea of registering for gifts.
I was adamant about not registering, until my cousins exalted the registry over Christmas dinner - and how easy it is to buy gifts when someone has a registry. Problem is, I live in BFNW (Butt-F-NoWhere), and the only registries I can take advantage of are online, or two hours away in the Big City.Given my rural roots and the prevalence of dial-up Internet (yes, dial-up) in this neck of the woods, I'm not inclined to pass on a URL with the invites.
On the other hand, I've seen what Walmart tries to pass off as cloth diapers around here.
On the third hand, I hear that Mother-to-be shouldn't actually have anything to do with shower planning, and therefore I can stop stressing abotu ettiquette of registries and invitations and entertaining and start having nightmares about how many clothespins I can hold in one hand instead.
But two things changed.
1. Knowing that we can't possibly afford everything, and really I ought to take all the advice and equipment I can get.
2. Reading about a fabulous baby shower idea, one that made me immediately grab the phone and dial my mother, commandeering her into arranging: a Book baby shower! Where the guests all bring books for the baby! So Baby can have a fully stocked library right from the get-go! Now this is a baby shower I can live with.
So the baby-book shower is in.
Unfortunately I know a regular-type shower is inevitable (probably three of them, considering the location of my, my family and Man's family), and now I'm toying with the idea of registering for gifts.
I was adamant about not registering, until my cousins exalted the registry over Christmas dinner - and how easy it is to buy gifts when someone has a registry. Problem is, I live in BFNW (Butt-F-NoWhere), and the only registries I can take advantage of are online, or two hours away in the Big City.Given my rural roots and the prevalence of dial-up Internet (yes, dial-up) in this neck of the woods, I'm not inclined to pass on a URL with the invites.
On the other hand, I've seen what Walmart tries to pass off as cloth diapers around here.
On the third hand, I hear that Mother-to-be shouldn't actually have anything to do with shower planning, and therefore I can stop stressing abotu ettiquette of registries and invitations and entertaining and start having nightmares about how many clothespins I can hold in one hand instead.
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