Utterly fabulous nightwear to ensure own utter fabulousness in hospital, before, during and after birth.
I’m going to let you in on a little secret they don’t share with you in those baby brochures: The miracle of life is messy. Quentin Tarantino messy. So for the love of peach blossom brushed cotton flannelette pyjamas – wear an old t-shirt.
No matter how your little one enters this world, they’re not going to arrive on the wings of a psychedelic unicorn, so you can roll yourself in glitter (or fancy schmancy jammies) all you want, but the reality is once you’re done pushing a baby out of your vagina, you’re going to look as fresh as someone who just pushed a baby out of their vagina. The same applies post c-section – it’s not a facial.
The good news? You are not the Duchess of blinkin’ Cambridge. Nobody cares. All eyes will be on the amazing little mini person you just made.
Well done you.
Now incinerate that t-shirt.
Gorgeously ornate newborn formalwear.
So you’ve negotiated seventy-six fiddly little buttonholes, forced your cherub’s arms and legs into a rigid, ungodly position, discovered a fastening by the neck hole that needed to be undone before wedging their floppy head through it and sworn blue murder because no matter how hard you try – you simply cannot align the poppers…
Babies live for moments like this. Time to poop all over themselves – down their legs, up their back and into their hair. A full-blown biblical proportion, pond slime poonami situation.
This is your child’s subtle way of telling you they’d rather slip into something a little more comfortable.
Infants don’t get turned away from weddings for being underdressed; consider it a perk of the job. A cutesy sleepsuit will do just fine, but holy crapamoly – remember a spare. You don’t want to be the one wrestling your pond slime caked infant into a car seat for the journey home.
Astoundingly useful for the nanosecond they stay on.
Look for newborn sleepsuits with incorporated mittens. Whoever invented them is a goddamn genius, who I fully intend to find, marry, have babies with and then dress said babies in newborn sleepsuits with incorporated mittens.
Designer baby shoes.
Here’s some totally new information for you: Newborn babies cannot walk. They eat footwear. Designer baby shoes are basically super expensive chew toys.
Buy a teething ring and keep your little angel’s tootsies warm in a sleepsuit.
Any beautifully coordinated, so pricey you’ll pray they were licked together by Labradoodles – matching quilted cot bed sets.
I get it. I really do. You want the nursery to look like Pinterest threw up on it. So did I. But the ghastly and utterly inconvenient truth is – the bumper’s a health hazard and the quilt can’t be used before your child turns one. That’s a whole heap of moolah to fork out for a single cot sheet.
Look instead for baby sleeping bags. Whoever invented them is a goddamn genius, who I fully intend to find, marry and have babies* with.
*In addition to the incorporated mittens guy/gal.
And my husband.
Ever noticed that wrinkly looking bendy joint thing, roughly halfway down your arm? It’s an elbow. Elbows make excellent bath thermometers. And cost nothing.
Here comes the science bit: If the water feels too hot – it’s too hot. If it feels cold – it’s cold.
Four hundred and twenty-four thousand adorable little babygrows. All 0-3 months.
At least try to resist the urge to go overboard here. Your child will only be 0-3 months for three months.
Not six years.
If you manage this – please tell me how.
You really don’t need a pricey piece of furniture on which to wipe your bambino’s bottom – a change mat on the floor will suffice.
When it comes to code green situations, trust me when I say – time is of the essence. You can’t be fannying about upstairs.
Jazz it up with a fanciful flapdoodle name all you want, but this thing can’t grant wishes. It’s just a frilly bin.
Word to the wise – if you’re trying to save coinage: Use a normal bin.
Wet wipe warmer.
Holy heated backside Batman!
What a crock of shiitake mushrooms. No child has ever suffered in the hands of cold wipes, so for the love of room temperature personal hygiene products – don’t even think about buying one.
I mean it.