baby gear

My Gramanxiety Attack

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‘I’ve got the pre-grandkids-visit jitters’

I woke up this morning at 4:30 and could not get back to sleep. I was having one of those dreams where you’re trying to do something impossible and/or scary and are thwarted (I just love the word “thwart”) at every turn. In my case it was trying to climb down from a really tall tower — on a horse. (I’m really scared of heights AND horses). It was too late to pop a pill, so I got up and made coffee.

Well, looks like somebody’s not afraid of horses

And fretted. No, not about heights, or even horses. (A fear of heights is self-evident; my equine fear stems from horses drooling and peeing on me in addition to not paying attention at ALL to my feeble commands and running amok with me clinging to their manes and/or reins.)

Our other adorable grandson, Baby Too, sporting his big brother’s outgrown beanie (or “toque” as they are known in Canada)

My fretting had to do with the fact that my two adorable grandsons are coming to visit and staying for a week and two days. (Their parents are coming as well, but that’s not a fact that lessens the anxiety.)

I’ve discovered that this pre-visit anxiety is more common than one would think. Why, my friend Amy, who is one of the coolest, calmest persons I know, admits to feeling stress when her granddaughters visit. It’s not that we don’t know what to do with kids — Amy raised three of them — but it’s that we feel discombobulated with all the new parenting mores and folkways. (I’ve written about one aspect of this before: See “It’s a Good Thing This Baby is so Adorable” for a piece about the abundance of gear these babies require.)

The Powers That Be would have me arrested if I tried to reuse The Child’s crib. No can do, since long ago I gave it back to the person I borrowed it from

To prepare for this upcoming visit, I’ve already ordered another Pack ‘n Play (a portable crib that simply everyone has; I wish I owned Graco stock), plus a highchair. I’m thinking about getting a pail and shovel for the beach. And maybe some toy trucks. The Child on our last FaceTime call, broadcast from their Canadian Family Visit, after I noticed Mr. Baby playing with a couple of trucks: “Aunt Susan has lots of toys.” (Note: Aunt Susan has no children.)

Who needs toys? Mr. Baby has room to roam visiting his Canadian family

As for me, I can’t recall owning much gear. I do remember tying Her Childness to a kitchen stool with a bathrobe sash. A high chair seemed like a bad investment at the time. After all, we had just the one kid.

Having fun bathing just the one kid in our just the one bathtub

And. even more disconcerting than all the gear, there’s the difference in the parenting folkways. Way back when, it was the grownups that ruled the roost — or so it seemed at the time. It was “time for bath” and “time for bed” and, so heavenly,  “naptime.” Now everything is sort of kid-driven. It’s “he might get tired in the jogging stroller” and “looks like he’s hungry.” Speaking of “looks like he’s hungry”, there’s a lot of running-around-while-eating. Maybe I can send the highchair back. Although he’s getting his kicks while seated in one, here:

Thank you all for the opportunity to vent. I feel so much better now. I’m ordering some shovels and trucks the second I post this. Meanwhile, I know that, when all else fails, there’s bathtime:

Amagansett, New York. July 2026

It’s a good thing this baby is so adorable

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‘Because he sure needs a lot of gear’

Poor UPS Guy. He and Amazon Man have run themselves ragged these past few weeks, delivering load after load of baby supplies to our house in Amagansett.

See, I’ve been getting ready for the much-anticipated Thanksgiving visit of The Child and SIL — and our brand spankin’ new GK.

Our GK getting ready for Thanksgiving

And I have to tell you, that kid needs a LOT of stuff. There’s diapers and wipes, sure. But also changing pads. Bottles and formula, natch. But also a sterilizer. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t mind. In fact, I volunteered to get supplies. They have to fly from San Francisco to get here. The least I can do is rustle up a baby bed.

The aforementioned sterilizer. I didn’t borrow one of these; they didn’t exist back then. Or at least I was unaware of them

After all, I figure the easier I make it for them to visit, the more often they’ll want to come. That baby bouncy chair is bait.

The bait, er, baby bouncy chair. It cleverly converts to a walker and a highchair for later use

The irony of all this acquisition is that I didn’t do any of this for my own baby. See, when I was expecting The Child, I was, well, a bit long in the tooth, motherhood-wise. When you’re pushing forty, it doesn’t make a lot of economical sense to buy a bunch of baby gear that you’ll probably only use for the one baby you’re apt to have.

The Child in her borrowed crib

So I borrowed stuff. Basically everything. I borrowed the crib, I borrowed the car seat. I borrowed the bouncy chair and the swing and, eventually, the highchair. I even borrowed baby clothes. They were hand-me-downs from boy cousins. What with her mostly-blue clothes and mostly-bald head, I got, “What’s his name?” a lot. 

Just for fun, here’s The Dude in his crib. Too bad we didn’t save that one. Or maybe it’s a good thing

Then, once The Child outgrew whatever it was, I gave it back to whomever I borrowed it from. Easy-peasy! Perhaps it would have been nice to have a crib or car seat in the attic to drag out for the GK’s visits, but the technology’s improved so much that we’d probably get arrested for using something so old — and so unsafe. I know that the crib we borrowed thirty years ago would definitely not pass muster. (Those wooden slats are head traps for sure. Yikes!)

GK in his own personal bouncy chair. Note warning labels. Though it says nothing about staying away from cats (Note: This cat stayed away from him)

So I got stuff. A lot of stuff. I drew the line at a Diaper Genie. (“Um, what’s wrong with garbage bags?”) And a changing table. (“Gee, when you were a baby, we, well, we laid you down on the bed.“) But I knuckled under on a lot of nice new baby gear.

Nice new bed all ready for nice new baby. Changing area (ie “bed,” in foreground)

And I did find some nice recycled things in the attic I think he’ll enjoy.

Some of The Child’s stuffed animals. Yup, these I saved

Happy Thanksgiving, one and all! “See” you next week.

My favorite photo (so far) of the amazing GK, here seen in a special bathtub. Nope, I didn’t get one of those. But I bet he won’t notice

Amagansett, New York. November 2024