Poems vs. babies

On Saturday, I went to Babies R Us, which is kind of a hellish-overpriced place, but I’m not going to lie and say I hated it. I can see why people spend THOUSANDS of dollars in such stores, but who needs a $60 baby bathtub? Can’t you just use a hose? I’m kidding, I’m kidding, but I liked the looks of a $20 mesh cradle/seat looking thing you stick in your already-installed-with-it’s-own-faucet-and-everything adult bathtub. And why are top sheets for crib mattresses $24?! I could buy an entire adult sheet set for that! And a body pillow for $50, a diaper bag for $70, a crib for $500! Who are these people spending this kind of money? I just sort of went in on my own to check the quality of a few things I saw online and there were pregnant women waddling all over the aisles with scanner guns in their hands pew-pewing all the crap they could find to put on their registries.
I’ve done my research already, went onto my mom’s consumer reports, found a “best buy” crib at Ikea for $119 that transitions into a toddler bed. BOOM: crib and mattress for $220. And honestly, the only things I need new are car seats, possibly a stroller (but if I found a good used one, I’d grab it for sure) and diapers. Diapers definitely.
I suppose the other thing I need new is a breast pump. They give me the heebie-jeebies already. I swear they are part of the robopocalypse, but I think I can get a free one from my main man, Obama, so that works out.
Anyway, I posted something silly about going into Babies R Us on Facebook and wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into with this whole kid thing, but that 6 of my poems coming out in Menacing Hedge’s Spring Edition made everything right in the world again and I’ve realized that when it comes to babies vs poems on Facebook, babies win. I think every person who commented said something about breast pumps or borrowing them or an experience with them, which is not really what I wanted to talk about, but I guess that’s my own damn fault. And here I go, mixing poems and babies again. But not one person commented about the poems themselves. I’m sure they didn’t even look at the link. Which is fine, it’s just curious to me how universal talking openly about babies is and how universal poetry is, but no one wants to talk about it.
A few weekends ago, Pat and I went camping with his cousin’s friends (a group of moms, one a few weeks ahead of me and expecting her 2nd child) and at this point, we hadn’t told many people, so no one there knew, but we were all sitting around the fire, the pregnant one talking about breast milk and how breast milk was squirting out of her uncontrollably with her first and how she had gallons of the stuff in their fridge and all the husbands are looking on, sipping tequila or beers inching closer to the flames. I don’t blame them, I wanted to jump in too. After we got home, I looked to Pat and said, “Is that what I’m going to turn into? Is that what happens?” He assured me, “no, you are too smart for that. You have too many intelligent things to say.” But there’s line. I don’t blame or judge these women that become all-consumed with dirty diapers and poop stories and breast pumps. Already, it seems so easy to get sucked into the vortex. I just want to have a balance. I’m finally getting some energy back, finally taking the train, watching people. I haven’t written a new poem in months, but I’m trying to yank that part of me open again. It’s been happy hiding, but it’s time and I realize that most of this post was in fact about babies, but I hope the poems don’t get too lost in all of it.

So here’s the link again Menacing Hedge

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