Dressing Your Newborn for Brunch: A Comedic Journey

I’m not the kind of person who spends hours getting ready just to step outside. I do make it a point to shower, put on some makeup, and do something with my hair that doesn’t involve a baseball cap. Typically, I can transition from shower to car in about half an hour. So when it came time to dress my newborn for a brunch outing, I assumed it would be just as quick. After all, he’s a boy! Men seem to get ready in record time, and thankfully, my little one wasn’t shaving yet, which was a big win for me.

Off we went—my partner Jake, our newborn, and me—on a weekend getaway at a friend’s condo in Palm Beach. This was my first trip since giving birth just four weeks prior. Jake had set off for an early morning fishing trip, while my plan was to meet him at a waterfront café around noon. I thought Jake had the hard job of wrestling fish; my only task was to dress our little cherub in a cute onesie that read something about him being our tax write-off. How easy could it be?

Ah, the naivety of a first-time mom. Here’s the reality of dressing a newborn for brunch:

Step One.

Start by putting the baby in a fresh diaper and an adorable onesie, then strap him into the car seat. Perfect! Ready to roll.

Step Two.

Pack the diaper bag with essentials: diapers, wipes, Balmex, and disposal bags. Don’t forget two bottles of formula (because breastfeeding didn’t quite work out—no judgment, please). Toss in five pacifiers, just in case the first four fall on the floor. Also, pack three extra outfits for any surprise spit-up or explosive diaper situations.

Step Three.

Realize you’re running late. Make a last-minute pit stop (because the bladder never fully recovers). Grab your wallet, keys, and sunglasses. Sling the diaper bag over your shoulder, pick up the car seat, and reach for the door handle…

Step Four.

Wait! Remove your hand from the door handle because the baby is crying—no, screaming.

Step Five.

Put everything down. Unbuckle the baby and remember he needs a diaper change.

Step Six.

Sigh deeply.

Step Seven.

Head back to the guest room. Lay the baby in the center of the bed, ensuring he won’t roll off, despite the fact that he can’t move yet.

Step Eight.

Open the diaper. Duck as the baby unleashes a stream of urine that could take down a tin can from fifty yards away. Try to block the spray with your hands, which only makes things worse as it spreads.

Step Nine.

Note that you are WAY behind schedule.

Step Ten.

Grab wipes, a clean diaper, and a fresh outfit from the diaper bag.

Step Eleven.

Remove the soaked onesie, being careful not to hurt the baby while pulling it off. Wipe him down, then put on a fresh onesie, again being cautious.

Step Twelve.

Squeeze Balmex onto your fingers and try to apply it to the squirming baby’s red bottom. Somehow manage to get it everywhere except where it’s needed.

Step Thirteen.

Remove the now-soiled second onesie and toss it across the room.

Step Fourteen.

Stare at your naked, pee-soaked, Balmex-covered baby on the bed.

Step Fifteen.

Cry.

Step Sixteen.

Conclude that brunch is overrated. Why leave the house for anything other than takeout?

Step Seventeen.

Fill the bathroom sink with warm water and place the baby inside. Attempt to rinse off the pee and Balmex from the flailing, slippery little one.

Step Eighteen.

Gently dry the baby with a towel. Grab another diaper and a third onesie.

Step Nineteen.

Return to the guest room. Find a dry spot on the bed to lay the baby down. Redress him and buckle him back into the car seat.

Step Twenty.

Take stock of the now depleted diaper bag.

Step Twenty-One.

Express your feelings using your favorite exclamatory phrase from “The King’s Speech”: “Crap! Oh my gosh!”

Step Twenty-Two.

Realize that if this were a Judd Apatow movie, you’d be laughing hysterically. And start laughing.

Step Twenty-Three.

Strip the bed and throw the soaked blanket, sheets, and bedspread into the laundry.

Step Twenty-Four.

Recognize that you’ve set a world record for being late to brunch.

Step Twenty-Five.

Gather your diaper bag, keys, sunglasses, and car seat. Make a sign of the cross—despite being Jewish. Finally, leave the house.

Step Twenty-Six.

Drive frantically (but cautiously) to the restaurant. Opt for valet parking because you’ve earned the right not to lug your baby and heavy diaper bag across the lot.

Step Twenty-Seven.

Spot the mimosa your thoughtful partner had waiting at the table. Weep with gratitude, then gulp it down in one go. Repeat.

In conclusion, navigating the challenges of dressing a newborn for brunch can be an unexpected adventure filled with laughs and a bit of chaos. For more insights into the world of parenting and home insemination, check out this resource and learn more about the process at Make a Mom. If you’re curious about the intricacies of fertility, this Wikipedia page offers a wealth of information.