Editor’s Note: Awful. The only word to describe my lack of blogging. I hope you all accept my apologies and believe me when I say that it is my child’s fault. 🙂
I never thought that I would be one of those parent’s that was trying to keep up with the next parent in purchasing the latest, greatest baby items or not letting my child eat things she shouldn’t be eating before she was really suppose to be eating them (though after Sloane had devoured half of the fudge bar her great-grandpa had given her, I thought it was time to step in and atleast say, “Sloane, you aren’t going to eat the entire thing, are you?”).
Let’s face it. I had hoped to never be on of those types of people in my previous life. As a pre-mom, I was proud of the fact that I didn’t like to buy big, expensive name brand items that plaster their logo all over – Coach, Michael Kors. Don’t get me wrong, I will accept any and all as gifts! But I’m not one to prance around, showing off my bag that has big C’s written across the entire bag.
It’s just not my style.
Then I had a baby.
And somehow my previous thinking of not needing the latest and greatest seemed to go out the door.
Example: Sophie the Giraffe.
Twenty two dollars, people. For a rubber giraffe. And everyone at play group had one…
Except for poor baby Sloane. Wah wah…
Everyone raved about them, how great they were, how the babies love them, that it’s worth the money.
But $22? I don’t even buy clothing for myself that is $22. How can I justify purchasing a rubber giraffe?
After talking about it and talking about it and saying I was going to get one and talking about it a little more, my parents finally said to hell with it and purchased one for her.
No longer was Sloane the peon at play group.
Until all of the other babies started sitting up on their own. And getting teeth.
It seems that Sloane and I (actually… just myself – she is perfectly content with life) will always be yearning for something. If it’s not a toy, it’s crawling. And I know it doesn’t stop at this. Next it will be getting into the perfect school, the perfect color of bands on the braces, picking out the perfect prom dress, etc.
In the end, I know the most important thing is that I have a healthy, happy baby.
And one that has been sleeping all night long since she was four months old.
Who’s the peon now?!