This weekend was the first time that I've felt overwhelmed at the prospect of Ella's arrival. I'm not surprised, really. It's been percolating under the surface, I think. And, since I've started to actually get back to the gym and gain some measure of control over my eating habits (although we shared a piece of black & white cake last night for dessert that was unbelievably good) that the pressure would find another way out.
We were at Babies 'R Us and I felt somewhat blindsided by Amy's insistence we finish our registry there. I thought we were going to look at a few cribs and then move on. This would normally not be a big deal but I decided I was in a Bad Mood (helped along by low bloodsugar), plus shopping with Amy can be a difficult experience — she hates it.
Long story short, she was freaking out from the start and I got increasingly frustrated. How many shirts do we need? How many with side snaps? How many regular? Are onesies and jumpers the same thing? Why do they have x for 3-6 months, but not 0-3 months? Why does our registry list show everything as impossible-to-decipher acronyms and not have any complete WORDS? She kept asking me questions I didn't know the answers to and I got increasingly shrill: "I don't know."... I don't know, Amy."... "I. DON'T. KNOW!"
We got through it without any bloodshed, but it really hit me during our quiet walk to Buy Buy Baby, and then our quiet walk to the pizza place for a late lunch, and our quiet walk home: I don't know anything about little tiny babies, really. Or toddlers. Or children! I don't know anything about anything! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
So, that's fun.
That black & white cake sure was good, though.
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