Can a baby shower lead to crushing depression? Yes!
Yesterday I attended the last baby shower that I will ever attend. No, I'm not predicting my death. I am, rather, predicting a happier life.
It seems like most intelligent women who reserve at least some of their time and brain space for non-baby-centered pursuits abhor baby showers and, yet, they still exist!
For all of you unitiated out there . . . it's customary for someone, usually a close girlfriend or family member, to throw you a baby shower. She asks you when you're available, you tell her and give a few tips on who to invite, and she does everything else. Everyone arrives on a weekend afternoon bearing pastel-infused gifts, and the intelligence-insulting activities ensue. BUT, no matter how obnoxious the activities, one thing I CAN say for the blessedly few baby showers that I have had to attend is that they move along. Thanks to the massive experience of those "core women's women"--you know who you are . . . mom--they are regimented! You get there, you eat little mints and tiny sandwiches, and then everyone sits, plays a few silly games, and the mom-to-be starts opening her presents. Mom holds up the gift, everyone goes "aaaawwwwwww", one person takes a picture, the gift is passed to everyone in attendance, and another person packs it up in the original box. All the while the mom is opening new presents. The core women bark out orders. They note who gave what. They carefully re-pack. The cycle repeats. People relax, knowing that they will soon be out of there and on with their day.
Yesterday's festivities were different. First of all, they were thrown by the mom-to-be herself. My problem with this has already begun. The festivities were held at a shi-shi restaurant/bar in the arty district of town. Different is good, but giving people an empty restaurant to roam around in lengthens everything. It's terribly unfocused. It started at 2, but there were people spilling in until around 3, and for some reason we didn't even start eating until then. Did I mention it was a potluck, so I had to make and bring something? Did I mention that I brought chocolate-walnut pie with a mug full of chocolate sauce, and that that chocolate sauce spilled (unbeknownst to me) while I was trying to wrangle it, the pie, my bag, a large present, and my son across a busy street? So I entered the party 1. in a bad mood and 2. covered in chocolate. Of course, the chocolate also spilled into my bag, covering my phone, wallet, and checkbook in--you guessed it!--chocolate.
Because there was a lot of room to ramble, the eating was unfocused, too. There was no scrutiny--no public pressure--to stay in the room, to eat, to get through this task. And because the only other person that I knew (besides mommy) was late, I sat, lonely--so lonely, at the bar, drinking water, miserably trying to catch some of the football game, avoiding the dreaded small talk with strangers at all costs.
Side note: I really don't want to get to know new people. This sounds callous, but I can assure you that I am quite lovable. So why so stand-offish? Because I have enough friends already. I love my work friends and happily get together with them at at least half of the work-friend social happenings. My best friend Ted and I have been friends for 20 years and don't have any need for small talk or formal gatherings. We can even ignore each other sometimes. I know that there are many fascinating people out there, but what good would it do me to strike up a conversation with a couple of women at a baby shower? No doubt they live in Central City, and to see them I would have to leave my house and drive for nearly an hour. There's no history there, and no point.
Back to the shower. The pile of gifts was growing, and I was anxiously wondering just when mommy would start opening presents so I could get the hell out of there. Answer? A little after 4! TWO hours after the party started! On a lovely fall Sunday afternoon! Urgh.
To make matters worse, the hostess-mother was doing everything herself, from lugging in the wine she bought for the winners of the quizzes (matching Bible parents with their Bible children! I got "Joseph and Mary------Jesus" and "Adam and Eve------Cain, Abel, and the other one". That would have been all, but I was a few seats down from Mommy's Christian daddy and I was blatantly cheating off of his paper!), to fooling with the damn camera. If we calculated the time we lose to figuring out how to work digital cameras and teaching others to use them, it would be very disquieting, I'm sure.
So she finally sits and starts opening, only nothing is getting passed, there is no system for taking pictures although they must be taken, and mom herself is carefully repacking everything herself and triple-checking to make sure that the right person got credited on the List. The quilt that took me dozens of hours to complete was shown upside down and repacked. Having nothing else to stay for, I mumbled to an acquaintance that I was going to go find my kid and slipped out into freedom.
The mommy is a friend of mine. If she reads this, that may change. However, I have this to say in my defense: The shower ruined my day. It was so bad that I had a bad dream about it last night! I don't like the idea behind them. You can't get out of them! If you do, you're basically dissing that person's baby. I love my friend, and I'll love this baby as I do her first baby--to whom I've voluntarily given a great deal. I was happy to make the quilt. I'm happy to babysit and help however I can. Just never, ever ask me to formally, involuntarily shell out the time, money, and chocolate pies to attend an event that I can't just duck out of and that my husband won't come with me to, meaning that I drive for nearly 2 hours in a pissed-at-husband fume to sit in a bar and talk with no one and grow increasingly distressed and wish that I was home cleaning my house or sewing or doing pretty much anything else besides getting annoyed at the whole idea behind forcing people to spend money to support your life choices. (Thank you, Sex in the City.) And was I pissed at my husband for not making the sacrifice? He knows I'm not going to divorce him if he doesn't go. Or was I pissed at him for being more enlightened and OK-with-himself for not attending such disagreeable activities? Hmm.
In the interest of full disclosure . . . what about my own showers? When pregnant with Stevie, several of my students (and future core women) got together and gave me a surprise baby shower. It was very sweet, casual, and modest--and on a Friday afternoon (so they have a few scheduling issues to work out). Similarly, my fellow female teachers threw me a surprise wedding shower at about the same time. It, too, was modest and sweet, and totally unexpected and unnecessary. This time around, my aunt, whom I see a couple of times a year, wanted to throw me a baby shower and, at first, I said OK. However, on the way to the shower yesterday, I asked my mom to tell her no. It would be beyond awkward in many ways to accept such a gracious offer, and I don't want to make people feel obligated to come and pay up, . . . and I don't want to give up another lovely fall afternoon.
It seems like most intelligent women who reserve at least some of their time and brain space for non-baby-centered pursuits abhor baby showers and, yet, they still exist!
For all of you unitiated out there . . . it's customary for someone, usually a close girlfriend or family member, to throw you a baby shower. She asks you when you're available, you tell her and give a few tips on who to invite, and she does everything else. Everyone arrives on a weekend afternoon bearing pastel-infused gifts, and the intelligence-insulting activities ensue. BUT, no matter how obnoxious the activities, one thing I CAN say for the blessedly few baby showers that I have had to attend is that they move along. Thanks to the massive experience of those "core women's women"--you know who you are . . . mom--they are regimented! You get there, you eat little mints and tiny sandwiches, and then everyone sits, plays a few silly games, and the mom-to-be starts opening her presents. Mom holds up the gift, everyone goes "aaaawwwwwww", one person takes a picture, the gift is passed to everyone in attendance, and another person packs it up in the original box. All the while the mom is opening new presents. The core women bark out orders. They note who gave what. They carefully re-pack. The cycle repeats. People relax, knowing that they will soon be out of there and on with their day.
Yesterday's festivities were different. First of all, they were thrown by the mom-to-be herself. My problem with this has already begun. The festivities were held at a shi-shi restaurant/bar in the arty district of town. Different is good, but giving people an empty restaurant to roam around in lengthens everything. It's terribly unfocused. It started at 2, but there were people spilling in until around 3, and for some reason we didn't even start eating until then. Did I mention it was a potluck, so I had to make and bring something? Did I mention that I brought chocolate-walnut pie with a mug full of chocolate sauce, and that that chocolate sauce spilled (unbeknownst to me) while I was trying to wrangle it, the pie, my bag, a large present, and my son across a busy street? So I entered the party 1. in a bad mood and 2. covered in chocolate. Of course, the chocolate also spilled into my bag, covering my phone, wallet, and checkbook in--you guessed it!--chocolate.
Because there was a lot of room to ramble, the eating was unfocused, too. There was no scrutiny--no public pressure--to stay in the room, to eat, to get through this task. And because the only other person that I knew (besides mommy) was late, I sat, lonely--so lonely, at the bar, drinking water, miserably trying to catch some of the football game, avoiding the dreaded small talk with strangers at all costs.
Side note: I really don't want to get to know new people. This sounds callous, but I can assure you that I am quite lovable. So why so stand-offish? Because I have enough friends already. I love my work friends and happily get together with them at at least half of the work-friend social happenings. My best friend Ted and I have been friends for 20 years and don't have any need for small talk or formal gatherings. We can even ignore each other sometimes. I know that there are many fascinating people out there, but what good would it do me to strike up a conversation with a couple of women at a baby shower? No doubt they live in Central City, and to see them I would have to leave my house and drive for nearly an hour. There's no history there, and no point.
Back to the shower. The pile of gifts was growing, and I was anxiously wondering just when mommy would start opening presents so I could get the hell out of there. Answer? A little after 4! TWO hours after the party started! On a lovely fall Sunday afternoon! Urgh.
To make matters worse, the hostess-mother was doing everything herself, from lugging in the wine she bought for the winners of the quizzes (matching Bible parents with their Bible children! I got "Joseph and Mary------Jesus" and "Adam and Eve------Cain, Abel, and the other one". That would have been all, but I was a few seats down from Mommy's Christian daddy and I was blatantly cheating off of his paper!), to fooling with the damn camera. If we calculated the time we lose to figuring out how to work digital cameras and teaching others to use them, it would be very disquieting, I'm sure.
So she finally sits and starts opening, only nothing is getting passed, there is no system for taking pictures although they must be taken, and mom herself is carefully repacking everything herself and triple-checking to make sure that the right person got credited on the List. The quilt that took me dozens of hours to complete was shown upside down and repacked. Having nothing else to stay for, I mumbled to an acquaintance that I was going to go find my kid and slipped out into freedom.
The mommy is a friend of mine. If she reads this, that may change. However, I have this to say in my defense: The shower ruined my day. It was so bad that I had a bad dream about it last night! I don't like the idea behind them. You can't get out of them! If you do, you're basically dissing that person's baby. I love my friend, and I'll love this baby as I do her first baby--to whom I've voluntarily given a great deal. I was happy to make the quilt. I'm happy to babysit and help however I can. Just never, ever ask me to formally, involuntarily shell out the time, money, and chocolate pies to attend an event that I can't just duck out of and that my husband won't come with me to, meaning that I drive for nearly 2 hours in a pissed-at-husband fume to sit in a bar and talk with no one and grow increasingly distressed and wish that I was home cleaning my house or sewing or doing pretty much anything else besides getting annoyed at the whole idea behind forcing people to spend money to support your life choices. (Thank you, Sex in the City.) And was I pissed at my husband for not making the sacrifice? He knows I'm not going to divorce him if he doesn't go. Or was I pissed at him for being more enlightened and OK-with-himself for not attending such disagreeable activities? Hmm.
In the interest of full disclosure . . . what about my own showers? When pregnant with Stevie, several of my students (and future core women) got together and gave me a surprise baby shower. It was very sweet, casual, and modest--and on a Friday afternoon (so they have a few scheduling issues to work out). Similarly, my fellow female teachers threw me a surprise wedding shower at about the same time. It, too, was modest and sweet, and totally unexpected and unnecessary. This time around, my aunt, whom I see a couple of times a year, wanted to throw me a baby shower and, at first, I said OK. However, on the way to the shower yesterday, I asked my mom to tell her no. It would be beyond awkward in many ways to accept such a gracious offer, and I don't want to make people feel obligated to come and pay up, . . . and I don't want to give up another lovely fall afternoon.
posted by lulu | 6:39 AM
1 Comments:
Let's take that as a two-part question, Ms. Lu. As to the first part, yes, a baby can shower. Most babies prefer to bathe sitting down in a tub, but certain precocious babies have been known to shower. As to the second part, etc., the lack of focus is appalling; the lack of scrutiny is shocking; and the lack of little mints and tiny sandwiches, well, it's just unacceptable.
The part about not having an intense need to MAKE NEW FRIENDS (and keep the old, one is silver and the other gold), however, is your own problem, and we might have to seek professional help, because that's downright unamerikan. As a good citizen and all-around Nice Person, it is your responsibility to be universally liked, and to do that you must universally like everyone else, which entails wanting to hang out with them, feign interest in their every little facet of life, and Be Their Friend.
The bible game is just over-the-top, and I think you made up the rest of it to complete the picture, like some Terri Garr movie of young urban horror.
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