We’ve
done it. We’ve dipped our toes in the treacherous waters of baby
commoditization and THERE IS NO TURNING BACK NOW. Hold on to your Sophie
the Giraffe[1] and Manhattan
Toy Winkels!
It all
started with Adam Davidson’s recent piece in the NY Times Magazine, The
Sippy Cup 1%. The article is a rather startling ethnography of the hypercompetitive
commodity market of all things baby, through the lens of the Brooklyn Baby Expo
– which was, no doubt, an insufferable affair, full of children named “Seneca”
and “Juniper” and “Grover[2]”
and parents comparing their children’s raw diet and “diaper-free” living.[3]
The article tells tales of a $5000 stroller – which obviously converts into a
spaceship because, GAH, so much money!
– but is also an interesting and profound commentary on the fact that, basically, all parents are TOTAL SUCKERS who will buy anything if
it keeps baby safe/BPA free/ivy league bound.
Of
course, it left me wondering. How much does
a stroller cost? And does this mean I can’t name my baby Juniper?
So,
first trimester safely under our belt and nausea now relegated to an
every-other-night-annoyance, C and I took a dive into
Amazon-baby-registry-land. The only safe space, behind the glow of a laptop,
where other moms-to-be can’t judge and where my future employer, who does not
yet know I’m pregnant, can’t run into me in the cloth diaper aisle. <Furtively
looks left to right>.
[Cut
to C and Sarah perusing the Amazon Baby Best Sellers feverishly and with
abandon]
<Exclamations
of panic and horror over the price. OF LITERALLY
EVERYTHING.>
<Labored
breathing/wipes sweat from brow/tries to contain self/checks bank
account/recovers>
C: Ooh
diaper bags, what’s going on in the world of diaper bags? (Dead serious, and
interest piqued. Inexplicably. Is this my
husband?)
C: We’re
not getting a prissy diaper bag, are we? We need something made by craftsmen.
S:
<perplexed look>. So… you want a diaper bag made of reclaimed wood?
C: Oh
yeah, look at that baby gate, that’s the kind of gate I like!
S: A gate?
There are bath towels with bear ears and you’re interested in a gate?
S:
Ooh, I like this ErgoBabyCarrier. But “supportive hood” just makes me think of
Guantanamo – it sounds so dark.
C: What?! Who ARE you?
Then, in between
describing various “bouncers” as “frightening” and debating the merits of a
diaper genie – utterly disgusting or shockingly necessary? WE MUST KNOW NOW! –
we were stopped dead in our tracks.
 |
| "Am I busy? Oh no, not at all!" |
(I’ll give you a
minute to digest this totally amazing photo).
How on earth can
this “mother[4]”
be casually chatting away on what appears to be a giant, antiquated Blackberry.
Doesn’t she know there are giant plastic contraptions dangling from her boobs,
meanwhile she is suffocating in some kind of restrictive, medieval girdle?
LADY! GET IT TOGETHER!
We laughed our
heads off for entire minutes. We are
so much better than this woman! This woman is CRAZY!
We said. Before
growing eerily silent. We both knew what was coming. I plan on breastfeeding. I
also plan on working full time. <Deep breath, looks at feet>.
<Quietly now,
and with great resignation>. I will be buying a restrictive, medieval girdle
and hanging giant plastic contraptions off my boobs EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
You win, Amazon.
You win.
<End
scene.>
[1] Seriously though, what is it about this
giraffe?
[2] I think we all knew that a Portlandia clip would make it in here
somewhere.
[3] For real. I could not make this up – a
friend of mine just confided that one of the other parents in her son’s day
care subscribes to some totally bananas heretofore-unknown-potty-training-“method”
wherein after two months, she goes entirely
diaper free. She literally holds her infant over the toilet at… random
intervals? Every ten minutes, just for good measure? WHO KNOWS. One thing is
for sure, she spends an inordinate amount of time dangling an infant over a
toilet making futile pleas for it to act on demand. (Moments later: Okay, so I
totally just Googled “diaper free” and the first hit was a thoughtful
commentary about diaper-free support groups and “elimination communication.” I
can’t even. I just can’t.)
[4] I put mother in quotes because her
stomach is far too flat and clearly not-recently-the-carrier-of-a-fetus.
Amazon, you devious bastard.
