I have come up with the ultimate baby shower gift for the first time mom.
Take a big box. Fill it with sheets, numerous sheets. And towels,tons of towels. Get as many large plastic bowls as there are members of the family. Add some Lysol, add some fabric and carpet strain remover, and viola!
A puke patrol kit.
A deluxe upchuck box.
A throw up thwarter.
Otherwise known as the best damn shower gift she'll ever receive.
And you know what? She won't appreciate it. Oh no. The dear expectant mom will take one look at that box and go, "Um... I'm sorry? I just don't... understand???" And her non-mommy friends will turn and shoot snooty little daggers at you while thinking, "That's SO not an appropriate shower gift. There's not one fluffy bunny in the box!"
And you, the experienced mother will lovingly pat the expectant mom's shoulder and quietly exit, knowing one day she too will understand that even tho motherhood is amazing and wonderful and all that blah blah blah that should go without saying, it's more about the puke patrol, less about the fluffy bunnies.
There is no doubt that one day in the future, you will get a phone call from her, and in an exhausted and stunned voice she will say, "Last night was so awful. The green beans. The noodles. They didn't stop. They just kept COMING! And the milk? No one warned me about the milk."
And you will slap your forehead and say, "Face mask or nose plugs! Damn! Forgot those!"
Then your friend, now an official member of The Parenting Club, will say in an appreciative voice, "I didn't understand your shower gift. Now I do. Thank you, oh wise experienced one. Thank you."
Oh yes, my friends. You aren't really a part of the Parenting Club until you have upchucked Yogos spilling down your nightgown at 2am in all their artificially colored glory. You're not a Real Mom until you're sitting on the toilet with a big plastic bowl on your lap, praying for mercy while your sig other is in the other room, yelling, "They're all doing it at once! It's like the Exorcist in here!"
But there's no time for your own toilet issues, Buttercup. Buck up, as you trudge down to the basement or into the closet to fetch your own Puke Patrol Kit, wisely packed after the "I'm still finding bits of regurgitated animal cookies in my hair incident of 03." Don't be surprised if you pause to hug the box with relief as you gently clean up freaked out babies and children, change sheets, soothe children some more, cover children's cribs or beds with sheets and towels from your kit, then hand them a puke bowl of their own. It's probably best to get the stains out of the carpet or furniture right away. And don't forget that Lysol spray kills germs and odors.
Then, with your own puke bucket in hand, it's time to do laundry before the next wave hits. The first of numerous loads of laundry in the hours to come. Since these things always happen at 2am, it's ok to lean against the washer for support. Just remember to close the washer door so you don't throw up into the wash machine as it's filling with water. Because you need one more issue right now.
Your life for the next 3 to 4 days? Lather, rinse, repeat. Lather, rinse, repeat.
And pray you and your sig other (if applicable) are at least one or two days behind each other in the misery, so at least one parent is of sound mind and body. And if both of you go down in flames with the children? May your higher power be with you, my friend.
THAT is motherhood. THAT is fatherhood. THAT is parenthood. And during times like THAT, the ultimate shower gift of all the things you need in one box when everyone's puking their guts out sure beats a fluffy stuffed bunny.
But if it makes you feel any better, go ahead and get her puke bowls with dancing duckies on the side. Sure to be appreciated when her head's stuck in one for three days straight.