Monday, October 22, 2012

Alfred Hitchcock's The Strollers

Earlier this month, I started putting our baby registry together. I thought I was being a nerd and starting waaaaay too early. Baby Girl is not due until late March! It's only October! There is plenty of time to figure out what stuff we need for the little lady.

Talk about being a naïve dumbass fool.

Look, I know the baby does not need much when she is born: a place to sleep; some clothes; a car seat so the hospital will let us take her home; and a way to feed her. Diapers would probably also be nice since I hear newborns poop a lot. But most everything else can wait. Baby Girl is not going to care if we've already bought a stroller and swing.

But it's so much easier to figure out everything now. Do I really want to be researching strollers when there's a newborn itching to be cuddled?

So I started our registry, and holy crap, it's over-freaking-whelming. I blame the internet. For example, take baby tubs. In a pre-internet world, I would have just gone to the store and picked out the cutest one. But now there are hundreds and thousands of reviews online; and if I don't research the baby tub options, I am a heartless evil mother.

Between Consumer Reports and Amazon reviews, it took me about 45 minutes to pick a baby tub. AND IT'S JUST A FREAKING $30 OVERSIZED PLASTIC BUCKET. I'm pretty certain my parents bathed me in the kitchen sink. Hopefully the tub I picked is a good one that will last until Baby Girl is ready for real baths; but if not, we can order something else from Amazon and the Earth will probably keep spinning

Despite my angst, planning the registry and checklist for baby has actually been pretty fun and easy. (Please note: not everything on the checklist goes on the registry. There is no way I'm registering for Butt Paste, thank you very much.) There's something very satisfying about choosing the cutest activity gym for Baby Girl. But there are a few big decisions that require a lot of thought and research, and I can't just rely on my Cute Radar.

Right now, the stroller is the bane of my existence. There are so many options, and everyone has a different opinion. At the end of the day, we need a stroller that is (a) safe for Baby Girl and (b) easy/comfortable for us to use, but finding that Dream Stroller is easier said than done.

Last week, I went to Babies R Us to test drive strollers. A few of the strollers were very comfortable to push but I just don't know. Would they be easy to load into the trunk of my car? Will Baby Girl be comfortable? Do they have cutting edge ergonomic designs that will keep my back young and feisty? Is the basket big enough for a diaper bag? Will the stroller handle curbs and dirt paths okay? WHERE IS MY MOTHER? I just wanted to curl up in the fetal position and suck my thumb until the Stroller Gods descended from heaven and pointed the way to the Holy Grail of Strollers. Instead, I checked out the toy aisles and picked out Baby Girl's first toy dinosaur (more on that in a future post).

The night after my Babies R Us excursion, I dreamed about strollers. This was not a happy dream that involved me frolicking in a field of daisies with my Soulmate Stroller. This was a nightmare with sinister strollers lurking in alleys and parking lots, waiting to steamroll me. Think Hitchcock's The Birds, except instead of birds, Tippi Hedren is being chased by a flock of demon strollers. (Did I get that analogy right? I've only seen about 30 minutes of The Birds because I am a wuss and cannot handle scary movies.)

I thought bathing suit shopping was the worst shopping experience a female could possibly endure. Talk about being a naïve dumbass fool.