The first time I stepped inside a Babies ‘R Us I took one look at the abudance of baby parephenalia and pastel colors, headed for the registry kiosk and made a beeline for the nearest item.
It happened to be a baby monitor, which at least was an electronic gadget of some kind and nothing that would (hopefully) be spit up on or encounter any other baby bodily fluids.
Then, anxiety shortening my breath, kept my gaze to the floor, got through the register and got out. Phew. I’d survived.
That place was seriously anxiety provoking for me then. I almost had a panic attack.
Today, I went to BRU with Duncan to replace the baby gate that broke as Safety1st seems to not be sending me the replacement part and get some other baby proofing items.
And then wander around the store, looking at “cute” things and daydreaming over the newborn clothing. Uh, hello? Who is this woman that I’ve become? Why is going to the baby superstore fun for me now? Why do I head straight for the baby section in any store I’m in?
I bought clothes for the child today. Clothing. Overpriced, amazingly large clothing. (I’m buying 24-month size for his 9-month self now.) And a toy.
Where did that fun, young, partying, folk-rocking mid-20-something woman go? It’s OK. There are things I truly adore about my life now. Like that 24-month-old size baby Titan. And his daddy. And our little city house and neighbors who love us because we’re quiet and don’t throw crazy parties and invite everyone in the bar… (I learned from that one).
There’s still a vestige of her, though – under the impact-absorbing foam cushioning I just stuck to our Goodwill find $5 coffee table. You know, I love that coffee table and it cost significantly less than the babyproofing foam.