Kids come with stuff...

While we all wait, I thought we'd fill you in on some of the little things that we are learning as we move towards this whole parenting thing.

One of the first lessons we were shocked and awed to learn was that kids come with stuff! And I don't mean that they are diapered and clothed, so you need to carry a diaper bag with snacks and fresh Wet-ones. No, no, no, I mean that the average North American baby is packing more gear than an Everest expedition.

At first, I confess, we sort of ignored the amount of stuff truely involved. I mean, we knew very few parents of wee toddlers and didn't pay that close attention to the amount of stuff that was jammed into the homes of the toddlers we did know (N.B. I say the homes of toddlers and not parents, as it seems that the house is primarily a storage container for the toddler's stuff). Slowly, however, the truth started to make itself known. We started to see more and more stuff in the arms of the parents we knew as they struggled to their car, arms laden with brightly coloured chairs and toys. We'd visit them in their toddler homes, and realize that the available floor space in the average kid inhabited home seemed to be roughly as impossibly small as the new iPod Nano (hey Apple, how about some store credit for this little plug?).

But, our eyes were finally and truely opened when our friend (and an angel on earth) Jan, decided it was time to indoctrinate us into the world of kid stuff. Chatting with her one day, she said she had been straightening her basement, and had put aside some 'stuff' for us and the 'kid' (as the wee one has affectionately come to be known on our house). Yup, we figured, that's wonderful. We'll take our little Civic and pick up some 'stuff' from Jan...

The 'stuff' didn't fit in our trunk... the 'stuff' didn't fit in our car... the 'stuff' required the entire compartment, trunk and front seat of our car. Kohji sat in the passenger seat with a bin on his lap, and I drove with my seat up so far my nose touched the windsheild. In fact, not only did the 'stuff' fill up our car, it completely overtook Jan's Carolla as well. It was like the 'Blob', devouring everything in its path! Jan couldn't actually put the car into drive because the 'stuff' wouldn't let her. We were a caravan of 'stuff' crawling along Bank street in first gear because neither of us could actually reach the stick that allowed us to move any faster.

Once home, the 'stuff' worked its way into our living room. Now, as some of you know, we have a grand piano in our living room. It's a beautiful, large, black lacquer beauty, visible pretty much as soon as you walk into the room. Well, it was impossible to discern the piano amongst the 'stuff'. The 'stuff' drawfed the piano, sat down at the dining table and created a kitty obstacle course for KT that was the envy of the Habitrail company! The 'stuff' had arrived!

After Jan left, sweetly signing 'au revoir' knowing that the she had effectly staged a coup by ousting the 'stuff' that had ruled over her basement for the last year or so (since Alex outgrew it), Kohji and I sat there is shock. The 'stuff' had taken up residence, and not only did we not know where to put it, we didn't know what some of it was. The clothes we could handle, but some of the other things were indecipherable. We couldn't tell the difference between a child toy and a child carrier. We thought a stool was the table for the high chair, and that the high chair table was a rain cover for the stroller. There were 4 different kinds of baby carrying devises with wheels!!! How does one know what to use? How do they work? Why can't I unfold this and how the heck do I fold this one back up? This, more than anything else, sent waves of panic through me. If we couldn't figure out what this brightly coloured, polka dotted thing was for, how would we ever figure out how to calm a tantruming toddler (especially as she'll be riding on top of the closed stroller while she's tantruming, because we'll not have ever figured out how it opens)?!?!??

A panic conversation with Jan (and much reassurance from her about how the 'stuff' can be tamed and that she will assist us) and general banishment of most of the the 'stuff' to the basement (where it reigns supreme to this day) has quelled the panic. However, the stuff still looms.

Lest you think I'm making this up, allow me to share a couple of photos. These were taken when our friend Colette (another angel on earth), convinced me that it was time to start taming some of the 'stuff'. She came from Winnipeg, armed with a U2 ticket and the determination (and necessary mommy tools) to herd and pen at least some of the 'stuff'.















Eight bins of clothes later, the 'kid' is likely clothed until the age of five, and not just clothed, but adorably turned out!

While the lesson of the 'stuff' has been incredibly valuable, the 'stuff' has also passed along the way more valuable lesson that I think will be my fundamental approach to parenthood - love, cherish and panic with, your friends and family and somehow it will all work out.