Once the early days of morning sickness, constant worrying, medical tests, and the like were over, we started focusing on one of the more important aspects of pregnancy – Stocking Up. In preparation for my baby shower, I completed a baby registry with the invaluable assistance of a very knowledgeable friend who helped me filter through the true necessities versus the vast amounts of superfluous extras that are marketed to vulnerable new moms anxious to provide their new baby with “everything” he or she may need.
Registries are a female phenomenon. We are the ones who purchase most gifts for friends and family, and so we appreciate the convenience they provide to the gift buyer, as well as to the recipient. There are very few times in life where you can justify telling people what you want, and as materialistic and gauche as it may be, I’m all for it. The registry confidently says “Buy this for me”, while I get to pretend I am not rudely asking for presents. The request can be even more covert by leveraging new technology and letting the shower invitation do the talking - “go online and buy this for her!”
Most men don’t really understand. It seems to go against their conservative and practical natures. I think back to our wedding preparations, when I believed that the success of our relationship required that my husband and I register for our wedding gifts together. This led to a very limited registry list and a house full of crystal vases. I have since felt sinfully envious every time I buy wedding gifts for friends from their extensive registries that include everything from air conditioners to toothpicks.
So this time I took control (because frankly, the one thing my husband wants to shop for less than china and flatware is baby stuff). However, I did make one big mistake. In a weak, sappy, bonding moment, I chose to share the registry with my husband. Here’s how the conversation went:
Him: “What’s a bouncer seat?”
Me: “It’s a seat he can sit back in and bounce.”
Him: “Oh, it’s the thing you hang from the kitchen doorway?”
Me: “No, that’s the jumper”.
Him: “Oh, it’s the thing you carry the baby in?”
Me: “No, that’s the infant carrier”.
Him: “Oh. Does it rock?”
Me: “No, that’s the swing – it’s listed separately down there. You can feed a baby in a bouncer seat too”.
Him: “So why are you registered for a high chair?”
Me: “That’s for a later stage. The bouncer seat has lots of toys on it too, so
the baby can entertain himself”.
Him: “Then what’s the ‘stationary entertainment center’”.
Me: “He can sit in it and play with the toys attached to it”.
Him: “I thought that was what he does in the bouncer seat”.
Me: “Well, yeah…but that’s for an earlier stage.”
Him (with conviction): “It seems to me that we are going to have to move the baby every 20 minutes so that we make sure he gets to use all of these things! Take them off the registry!”
Me: “LISTEN!” (I say in a voice neither one of us has ever heard before, and which we both fear will be taking over this new mom), “I AM GOING TO BE THE ONE HOME WITH THIS BABY ALL DAY LONG – I WILL NEED WHATEVER I CAN GET TO KEEP HIM ENTERTAINED. Besides (returning to my normal, sweet wife voice), they’re all for different stages.”
Him: “Um, OK, yeah.”
Him (hesitantly): “Well….how about this ‘musical mobile’ for the crib? We don’t need that, right? Can we…um….take that off the registry?”
Me, conceding nicely to one of my husband’s requests, knowing full well that I can go back online tomorrow and add it back onto the registry: “Okay, fine. But you’re going to have to stand over the baby and hum him to sleep.”
[Note, during a later shopping spree, mother-in-law bought classical music mobile that husband is convinced will help our child become the Mozart of the 21st century, so no over-the-crib humming will be necessary.]
