Shop Till You Drop…Dead

Babies are difficult. Yes, that’s an undisputed fact. Doesn’t matter whether you’re a super mama or a mega super mama, or you’ve read all the pre-parenting, post-parenting books. Your baby is going to drive you crazy. Period.

But that’s not the point of this post.

The point is, I am tired. Not of my baby, mind you. But of all the baby products. I mean, why!?

I have been trying to fold the perambulator since day one. I can’t. It’s been 8 months since. I try it everyday. Religiously. I still can’t. The online video doesn’t help, the manual, equally useless. My science brain asked me to sit on it so it would collapse because of my weight. It didn’t.

No, it’s not stuck, it’s not rusty, it’s not broken. It’s just stubborn, like my child.

That’s the story of the perambulator.

I think when you become a parent, you feel that your child needs every (useless) baby product that there is on the face of this earth. So, I ordered a high chair. Because feeding a perfectly fine baby on a perfectly positioned furniture was clearly not what I wished for. Although, delivered in micro-seconds, it took me half a day to put it together and that too the wrong way. I had to summon my tool savvy cousin to help me assemble it. Why was the husband not helping, you ask? Well, he was the one who put it the wrong way, in the first place. I mean I get that Ikea has arrived and all you want to do is get us to assemble our own furnitures. But, I beg of you, can you please not do this to people sleepwalking through early parenthood? It’s not funny.

We are an exhausted bunch and whoever is designing baby clothes here in the country sure as hell hates us and zippers. Why else will you make a buttoned-up romper? Why is it so difficult to put a zip instead of making us suicidal trying to put the tic and tac together? And I am the kind who can’t sleep if the tics and tacs don’t match. (I spent a thousand hours trying to find a zippy romper).

And please don’t get me started on baby wipe warmers or knee pads for that matter. Where are we even sending our children to play? On a pile of broken glass?

I am wiser now. A bunch of well meaning relatives suggested that I buy a baby walker. That’s not going to happen. Not under my reign. Nope. Please don’t come to me with suggestions till you have laid your hands on baby tranquilliser.

P.S: Parents, please buy yourselves whatever the hell you want. Don’t go by my rant.

P.P.S: The tranquilliser is a joke, guys. Don’t want to be behind bars. Love my baccha more than ever.

Ok. Bye.

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