Baby Registry

One of the most exciting moments in wedding planning is when you and your future spouse go and register for gifts. There is nothing cooler than going to Macy's, getting that little gun, and going gangbusters on all the stuff you need, want, and would never, ever buy for yourselves. Some people think registries are tacky- a big gift grab telling people what to get you. I do not agree- registries are a practical way for the gift giver to ensure that their gift will be wanted, appreciated and used. I am always a fan of giving gifts from a registry, because if the bride and groom want a toaster, they may want the red Kitchen Aid toaster, not the metal style toaster I would pick out from Target. Also, gift registries put all the guests in sync- even though I don't know your Aunt Myrtle, I can see that she purchased 4 of your chosen wine goblets, and I can supplement that with the remaining 4 wine goblets, and you will have the desired set of 8 wine goblets. Brilliant.

Registering for baby gifts is the antithesis of a wedding registry. There is nothing more stressful, anxiety ridden, and confidence shattering than walking into a Babies R Us and recognizing just how inadequate you are- realizing that you will be a horrible parent because you don't know an infant car seat from a convertible car seat, or that you should get a "cool mist" humidifier, or that you should make sure you can't fit a soda can through the slots on a crib. This is what we went through a few weeks ago when we were stupid and naive enough to walk blind into a Babies R Us. On a Saturday. At 2:00 p.m.

I was excited to go to Babies R Us, waiting to duplicate to pure exhilaration of the wedding registry. This was not to be the case. Instead, we entered an unknown jungle of pregnant woman, reluctant men, infants, and aisles and aisles of items of god-knows-what; but apparently we needed one of each. After several misguided attempts on my part to figure out 1) what we needed and 2) what had the highest safety ratings, Nick assuaged my anxiety by taking the gun away and starting to shoot: he paid no attention to what he was shooting. I pointed, he shot. He shot items that were cool, items that we wanted, and items that we would never, ever buy for ourselves. For a brief moment we had matched the pure high of the wedding registry. For one moment (OK, about 30 minutes) we didn't think about safety ratings, prices or necessity. For
one moment we were free.

We left the Babies R Us, satisfied that we had completed our mission, warm from our victory. We celebrated the day with some drinks (Virgin Pina Colada for me) with friends in Seattle.

The next day I looked at our online registry, and changed every single thing.

Dreams

Since I've been pregnant I've had a lot of funky dreams. I don't know if I am having more than usual, or if they are just more vivid and memorable, or if I am simply remembering them because I wake up four times a night to use the bathroom.

When I was first pregnant, I started having what I'll call the "party" dreams. These dreams all were about good times and living it up. I'm pretty sure these dreams were a manifestation of the concerns I was having on how my life would soon be changing. More recently, I have moved on to the "fear" dreams. These dreams are horrific, and illustrate the subconscious concerns I am obviously having involving child birth, my safety, and the baby's safety. I don't talk about these dreams because they are completely disturbing and they make me wish I hadn't watched so many horror movies in the past, and that I haven't read so many horrible police and CPS reports.

Last night I had a new kind of dream. I am referring to this type of dream as the "absurdist" dream. I hope I have graduated from "fear" to "absurdist" permanently because it was pretty damn funny. Some background: Nick catches a lot of salmon, and he smokes a lot of salmon. He is famous in three counties and four states for his wonderful smoked salmon recipes. He has an old "L'il Chief" smoker he bought from some guy on Craig's List for $20. Lately, Nick has been looking at upgrading his smoker (did I mention I hate smoked fish and the smell of smoking the fish?), and last night he showed me the $250 smoker on the Cabela's website that he would like to procure. Clearly, given the state of things, we will probably not be spending $250 on a smoker anytime soon.

So that is the background to the dream I had last night. (This will be much funnier to those who know us both).

In my dream, I walked into our non-existent garage and Nick was in there packing up our baby mattress and crib (we just got one last week). I asked him what he was doing, and he told me, quite matter of factly, that a guy on Craig's List needed a crib and mattress, and he was going to trade ours for a new smoker. I asked him calmly if he was crazy, told him that we needed the crib, and where the heck would we put the baby? He said "Don't worry, this guy has an old twin mattress he's also giving me; we'll just put the baby on that." Just then the Craig's List guy showed up with the smoker and a mattress: I don't know who Craig's List guy was supposed to be: he was very skinny and hunched over with unwashed hair and an oversized coat. The mattress he dragged in with him was burned out, stained, and just plain nasty. I told Nick I would never put a baby on that thing and he again said, "Don't worry, my dad is going to help me repair it with old sheets."

It was at that moment that I woke up (because I needed to go to the bathroom). When I told Nick he simply relied "You have issues" (which of course I do).

Let's hear it for more absurd dreams!