Well, some of my readers have very strong opinions against diaper genies and very little to say about adorable giraffe costumes. I'm frankly scared of that diaper contraption now, and I've almost convinced myself my child will come out of the womb potty trained. (COULD HAPPEN. YES HUH.)
Don't get me wrong, your advice was much appreciated and incredibly helpful. I've made some serious mental notes about avoiding this, buying that in bulk, drinking a lot of alcohol in between, etc. But, I always know it's inching into OVERWHELMING (!) territory when my sister e-mails me to make sure I'm OK after she reads a particular comment. My sister loves me, and is good to me, and she analyzes every word that's posted in order to make sure she's not needed to step in with some sisterly protection.
Your advice was the kind of stuff I wanted to know, though, so thank you. Although I'll never tell you if I actually buy a diaper genie.
I've actually been thinking about this a lot lately because something happens when you get pregnant, and I can't quite explain it. I think some kind of sign lights up on one's forehead that says something along the lines of, "IMPART YOUR WISDOM. I KNOW NOTHING." It's tough because on the one hand, it's true, at least to some degree. I know very little about being pregnant and raising a child. On the other hand, I am an educated adult with instincts and with the ability to both ask questions and Google and being bombarded by advice (even asked-for advice!) can make me feel, for lack of a better word, stupid.
I dealt with this a little (to some extent) when we were trying to get pregnant. I heard a lot of well-intentioned advice that drove me to drink. Advice like: Have more sex! or Maybe you should think about talking to your doctor (insert back pat). No one was trying to make me feel stupid, I rationally knew this, but I did have to fight the urge to scream, SEX IS NOT THE PROBLEM HERE, YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO TRUST ME OR FORCE ME TO GIVE YOU DETAILS YOU DO NOT WANT. AND THAT TRAUMA WILL BE YOUR OWN FAULT.
The good in life and on this site far (FAR) outweighs the bad, so I don't limit what I talk about. I ask for advice or bring up a subject that could stir opinions because the comments are worth it. When we were trying to get pregnant, someone suggested something that actually helped me identify a problem I needed to identify. That's the kind of invaluable help that keeps me coming back here. With this woman's help we are now going to have a baby. That's cool, right?
But opinions about babies (and parenting and families and, yes, even baby products) are more intense than the average set of opinions, I've come to find. I'm adjusting, and I now will never walk into an innocent conversation about baby blankets without armoring myself a little bit.
The surprises about pregnancy/impending parenthood are non-stop. There is nothing that could have prepared me for the last 16 weeks, no words offered in the form of advice or suggestions or tips or just friendly conversation that could have captured exactly what it would be like for me on this journey. (Although the words SWEET TOOTH would have been at least slightly on par.) Regardless of anything, I'm so glad I'm not going through it alone, and that I have all of you. Even if you scare me sometimes. There, I said it.
I just hope you'll overlook the fact that I'm totally registering for cute clothes whether or not I should. Lots of them, even. I'm sorry but you try holding that registry gun in front of a tiny pair of overalls and see what happens. I TOTALLY DARE YOU. (Fine, fine. I'll register for all sizes.)
And since Molly didn't get nearly as many comments on that last post as diaper genies did, I think I should end this by saying she is (officially) going to be a Dalmatian for Halloween.
Molly, what do you think about that?:
She's thrilled. Obviously.