So what is it about baby clothes -- and those towels! -- that's makes them so freakishly soft?
Just returned from the sis-in-law's baby shower in Washington, D.C. where she was feted with cake, lasagna and brownies -- none of which she could eat because she developed gestational diabetes in her second trimester. This has been the pregnancy of protein since she was diagnosed, and now she downs about a container of tofu a week -- that's a lot of soybeans folks.
We all stood there -- okay the women, yes, the women -- with our hands curled in these piles of cotton like some stupified cats kneading them into submission. It was only when we all caught ourselves -- and yes, all mothers -- that we guilty laid them down.
I have to wonder if there was some unconscious freudian thing going on there...like, is this our last time we will have contact with this super cotton, otherwordly fluff?
With The Prince's mission for baby due down to a mellow level, I've felt actually more willing to think about it. (I know, this is his master plan....) And then I see something like a mother with a baby tied against her chest, balancing a shopping cart and a toddler. Or a mother with sleeping twins trying to get off a subway car with bags and no stroller (is she INSANE?!?!?)
I have no answers still for myself in that department. But I do know how to deal with my other pull. First thing tomorrow I'm off to the store to buy one of those monstrous bath towels in a plush so thick it may even be able to muffle the calls of The Prince and the rabbit asking what's for dinner....
Just returned from the sis-in-law's baby shower in Washington, D.C. where she was feted with cake, lasagna and brownies -- none of which she could eat because she developed gestational diabetes in her second trimester. This has been the pregnancy of protein since she was diagnosed, and now she downs about a container of tofu a week -- that's a lot of soybeans folks.
We all stood there -- okay the women, yes, the women -- with our hands curled in these piles of cotton like some stupified cats kneading them into submission. It was only when we all caught ourselves -- and yes, all mothers -- that we guilty laid them down.
I have to wonder if there was some unconscious freudian thing going on there...like, is this our last time we will have contact with this super cotton, otherwordly fluff?
With The Prince's mission for baby due down to a mellow level, I've felt actually more willing to think about it. (I know, this is his master plan....) And then I see something like a mother with a baby tied against her chest, balancing a shopping cart and a toddler. Or a mother with sleeping twins trying to get off a subway car with bags and no stroller (is she INSANE?!?!?)
I have no answers still for myself in that department. But I do know how to deal with my other pull. First thing tomorrow I'm off to the store to buy one of those monstrous bath towels in a plush so thick it may even be able to muffle the calls of The Prince and the rabbit asking what's for dinner....
Comments