Time is a funny thing…especially with a baby. It gets sucked up. It disappears. You get thrust into a black hole that sucks up your to-do list, eats it, then spits you out, list-less and therefore unable to complete anything on it. I may stop fighting it. Step one? To continue this post as originally written. I started it in August…I can’t even remember what day. There have, needless to say, been other outings since (heck, he’s even been on a few restaurant visits), but adjusting it accordingly is an uphill battle. Please don’t mind. I’m trying not to mind the fact that I have a 3 month-old…please enjoy this post while I try to contain my tears on that thought.
Hadley and I had our first errand outing as just Mommy and Baby today. My mom escorted us on a shopping trip a week or two ago, but having her help was very different than one-on-one. Since Hads had his first “drop off for someone else to watch him” incident yesterday (which went quite well…I didn’t even cry! I probably could have, but I held it together ) while I had a follow-up appointment, I realized that I need to get the heck out of the house to try to rebuild my energy.
Today’s docket involved dropping off prescriptions, doing some shopping, and picking up said prescriptions.
Sounds simple, right? Well, in a way, it was. How it ended up taking three hours, I have no idea. It could have something to do with the fact that Hadley did REALLY, REALLY well in his stroller and in the car. And we don’t even use a “travel system.” Every place we went, he’d need to be unbuckled and put into the stroller; he hardly woke up. What a trooper! Or, that could just be motherly pride talking.
Anyhoo, we hit up Kmart (for some reason I find this place slightly less evil than Walmart…could be because I worked there for a couple of years while in college. Wait. Why do I find them to be LESS evil?!) for new jeans for Mommy (I insist they’re not “Mom Jeans”), to peruse comfy fall/winter clothes for Hadley, and pick out a toy for Hadley to give his cousin for her impending first birthday.
I did well finding jeans for myself (and on sale, at that!). But, here’s where my accusation of sexism comes in.
*Insert picture I accidentally deleted from my cell phone in order to make room for less cynical, more precious pictures of the little one*
Sorry ’bout that. Here, in far less than 1,000 words (man, that picture would’ve come in handy!) – let’s just say less than 1/3 of the clothes in Hadley’s age range were for the male persuasion. I know the ladies are cute and all, but over 2/3 of the clothes were for them?! C’mon. Additionally, of the clothes available for purchase, most had athletic themes or ridiculous quotes on them.
Don’t get me wrong. Some of those “quote” onesies are awesome. We have a few ones concerning “aunties” that we put him in anytime he sees one; I’m actually saddened that he’s outgrown the first. But most, I find lame. And we HOPE Hads is well-rounded enough to be interested in sports. No, really, we do! (And I was even very pleased with a recent gift from my brother and his family that included a squishy football and corresponding outfit, plus a “New York Giants” onesie from my friend, Beth.) But when they’re all that’s available, for the most part? “Pshaaaahhhhhrrrggghh”, I say.
While clothes aren’t that important, the idea that they’re a necessity simply makes it so that we MUST shop for them. Is it too much to think that the clothes we put on reflect our inner-makings? And when it’s a little baby, whose inner-makings are really reflected? The parents, obviously. I won’t lie. It’s totally us. We want to show what our values are through what we put him in. At the same time, it’s also based on what we hope for our little man. Y’know. Like the onesie I bought in Concord, MA last year with a Thoreau quote. CLEARLY he doesn’t care what it is…but I loved it and HAD to have it. (It said “I have always been regretting that I was not as wise as the day I was born.” — Henry D. Thoreau)
Am I being unreasonable that I’d prefer not to put a quote on my son that welcomes flirts from “the ladies”? Or that I’d prefer not to put a skull with crossbones (not in a pirate theme, mind you) and rocker graffiti on him? Or the overly-cutesy bear-on-the-butt-AND-feet outfits? Or various colors of camouflage?! It sure does whittle down your options.
So, as not to end this on a sour, complainy note, I thought I’d share some types of outfits that Dave and I WOULD approve. (Sorry, I’ve attempted to find images of outfits that I’d approve, but it’s proven far too lengthy a task.)
While we’re not out to prep-ify the kid too much, we do find it neat to dress a tad like Daddy. So, how can we not go for khakis and a collared shirt? (We WILL be purchasing a special Christmas eve “dressy” outfit, and I have a feeling that it will include a tie.) I was also ecstatic that I found a pair of “jeans” (elastic waist and softer than jeans, but they look like jeans), which I would live in, myself, if I had the choice. For sake of comfort and (somewhat) ease with changing, we use pull-on sweatpants that tend to match his onesie appropriately. It has suddenly become difficult to find them in his size (he’s currently in the 3-6 month range, depending on the brand; some are way too big still, but he’s outgrown most of his 0-3 and even a couple of his 3-6 outfits), but luckily it’s starting to get colder so I’m fine with him staying in a long-sleeve, long-pant sleep ‘n play outfit.
I’d say that our ultimate goal for his style is earthy/casual/prepster. It takes a lot of searching to fill those needs, but what’s more fun than shopping for a baby? Maybe that’s why we get a million outfits (some of which we really, honestly, bluntly HATE); people can’t help themselves. But, as parents, I’d kind of rather do the shopping ourselves or tell folks specifically what we’re in need of, so that we don’t end up with stuff we’ll never use. Does that sound terribly rude? Go ahead, feel free to weigh in! Maybe I’m just too controlling/uptight about the whole thing. But when your kid is the cutest in the world, it’s hard not to overthink things.