A change bag the size of West Africa.
Because you can’t possibly leave the house in the first six months without an entire branch of Mothercare to hand (and a skip would look conspicuous).
Muslin cloths. Like, half a million of them.
On the sixth day, God created muslin squares.
I cannot overstate how phenomenally useful these multifaceted tatty bits of shred really are.
Even more nifty than the little dinky wheels on suitcases.
That’s right – I said dinky wheels on suitcases.
Here are just a few of their many uses:
- Burp cloth.
- Absorber of vomit,
- Change mat,
- Sun shade,
- Teething toy,
- Leaky boob shield,
- Comfort blankey,
- Nursing cover,
- Baby bandana,
- Snot rag.
Not all at the same time; obviously.
If you plan to breastfeed, then – seventy-six gallons of nipple cream, your full-term bodyweight in disposable breast pads, one electric breast pump, a pair of thermal gel pads, half a dozen nursing bras and some tops you can hide a baby under.
You’ll also want breastfeeding helplines on speed-dial, experienced nursing mama friends on standby and a calendar to mark down six weeks from your little one’s birth.
If you can make it through the first six weeks of searing hot boobs and fractured nipples, then you’ve cracked it. (Pun intended).
Easy peasy breast-a-squeezy.
Okay, I’ll stop now.
Enough nappies and wipes to last a month.
This is roughly thrice as many as you currently think it is.
Half a dozen TV Box Sets.
For the great many times your little one falls asleep on your shoulder and you daren’t move a muscle, blink, or in fact, breathe.
Capsule wardrobe. For you and for baby.
Baby: Roughly eight sleepsuits (white), a dozen vests (white), a couple hats (white) and a cardigan (white). If it’s cold – then also a snowsuit (colour of your choosing). Think Maggie from the Simpsons.
Mama: A couple tracksuit bottoms (black), three or four pairs of leggings (black), several vest tops (black), three boyfriend cardigans (black), a large stash of up-to-your-armpit granny knickers (colour of your choosing).
Dry night pads.
I’m talking the little absorbent mats for potty training toddlers – only these ones are for you:
Before baby arrives, lay one down on your side of the bed in case your waters break in the night, to hopefully avoid nightmare Niagara.
After baby arrives – lie on one knickerless, with your legs akimbo and get some air to your lady bits. This is joyous whether your baby arrived vaginally or by c-section. And it’s the closest you’ll get to a spa treatment for quite some time.
Also stock up on heavy duty maternity pads. I repeat – heavy duty.
Two biblical proportion Micro SD Cards.
(You get the idea).
Colic drops, infant paracetamol, ibuprofen and kiddy cocaine.
Those boy scouts are onto something with this “be prepared” shizzle.
I guarantee, if you don’t stock up your medicine cabinet now, before baby arrives – you will live to regret it in the early hours of some idle Tuesday when colic / fever / teething kicks in.
Just to clarify – by kiddy cocaine, I do not mean Crack cocaine, but the white herbal (non recreational drug) teething powders you rub into your child’s gums or dissolve on their tongue to relieve sore gums. They’re totes amazeballs.
Please do not give your infant Crack.
Crack is bad.
Here endeth the lesson.