The Baby Stuff Experiment

(the babe's clothes boxes (made by her pa) and cosleeper)

 Let's just call this a grace period. If I'm not brilliant and witty and insightful, can you overlook it until I have given birth and raised the child unto autonomous neck strength? It would make me feel a lot better. I don't know how other people do it... perhaps they don't think their thoughts to death before they see sunlight (or, in this case, backlight). It isn't that I'm not thinking brilliant and witty and insightful things, of course, because I do. All the time. If you only knew. It's simply that I am also arranging the purchases of diaper covers and wet bags and baby pants, taking lots of naps, and chipping away a very little at my sewing projects.

Which brings me to the topic of the all-consuming and strange land of Baby Stuff. It is becoming pretty quickly apparent to me that, while our culture may not have a lot of respect for children or parenting, it has a lot of respect for parents' wallets. That is, there are a lot of people out there who have a vested interest in putting up a veil of respect for parenthood to cover up what they really want, which is money. Easy money, because parenting is one big road of uncertainty, and if this or that company can give me a little ease of mind by offering a product or a service that promises to take away some of that uncertainty then, yes, please do.

I see a lot of problems with this. The first is that there is just so MUCH stuff marketed as necessary, and it is ever increasing, taking over our homes and our paychecks, our time for other thoughts and other pursuits, and, eventually, our landfill space. The second is that I suspect that much of the baby market encourages a fear and suspicion of children. I'm not saying parenting isn't completely hard and humbling work, and I'm a little daunted by the thought myself. It just seems to me that so many products are being marketed today as solutions to the "problem" of childhood. "Babies are all-demanding and will suck all your energy and time, so what you need is a swing and a bouncy seat and an exersaucer and this set of DVDs to distract and calm the little fellow or you will lose all your friends and become a hollow, boring person and never have any fun again," or, if that fails, "if you don't buy these things, your child will grow up understimulated and dumb." And... I don't know. I don't buy that.

I'm not saying any one of those things wouldn't be handy or helpful (except the DVDs - t.v. for babies is a huge pet peeve of mine... and the AAP's), but I do sense that some people and some companies try to prey on my fears to make me think I need all that stuff. That I can't possibly get by without it. I've never been one to bind myself to a company that is obviously working so hard to win me over, dripping with smiles and sweetness and let's-be-friends, while simultaneously filling my computer screen and our public spaces and airplane tray tables for-pete's-sake with their ads, while making it really hard to actually contact them about real things, like what's in their product.* I like a company like Naturesutten, who's all like, whatever, we have a good product, and it's here if you want it. Also, here's all the information about what it's made of. Oh, and even though we say on our package that you have to replace it every few weeks, that's only because we have to, because of European standards - don't worry, you don't have to come back and buy our stuff as often as it would seem. I appreciate straight-forward marketing like that.

I know, this gets into the other problem in the land of Baby Stuff, which is the pretension and cost of eco-products. But I'm willing to pay more if a company is willing to be upfront with me, to use good quality materials and minimal packaging, to respect their workers (though not all of them do), to give me a little space, and to answer my questions.

So, to get to the self-righteous part of this blog post - because what's a blog without some good, old fashioned self promotion? - we are attempting an experiment. And that experiment is: how much of the stuff "they" say we need can we get by, happily, without, and how much of what we do need/want can we get conscientiously? We're not going to be martyrs here. If we feel the need for a bouncy seat, then I'm going to craigslist a bouncy seat (buying secondhand, incidentally, is a great way to live simply and thoughtfully in the midst of all the baby craze - most baby stuff is only used for a few weeks or months, and there's often very little reason to buy new, especially if you live in a city and especially if it's made of something that won't biodegrade or that was pretty toxic to make, like plastic. We are fortunate to have a lot of friends who feel the same way and pass around their baby stuff). And, okay, I have a weakness for cute, unnecessary things from etsy. So let me rephrase the experiment: how much stuff that we don't want anyway but that "they" say we need can we get by without, and how much of our baby stuff can we buy conscientiously - that is, with an eye to longevity, recyclability, reuseablity or biodegradability? That's not awkward to say at all, is it?

Really, we're not doing this simply for the sake of doing it. We live in a one-bedroom apartment, I am neurotic about the feel of my environs, we have a deep-seated belief in the value of our earth, our bodies and of the persons who make our stuff, and I simply don't like owning stuff that isn't beautiful, useful, durable and versatile. And yes, let me be upfront about my hypocrisy right now: I own crappy stuff that was probably made by poor children. We are simply asked to be faithful inasmuch as we are able at the time, and it's a process. For all of us. I don't hold perfection over my head or anyone else's (usually - eep). But I do find that the process of being a conscientious consumer can at times bring me joy, and I do hope that it contributes to a healthier world and a healthier family. Even if it doesn't, I have to live by my beliefs as I can, or what hope can I give my child, and what kind of adult will I become?

So, more on that next time. Nails and tacks. Like... what have we actually bought and borrowed?

*This is what happened to Mothering Magazine writer Jennifer Margulis when she attempted to contact Pampers about the ingredients in their disposable diapers. She got the run-around for quite some time before they finally gave her the answer, which was pretty discouraging (and worth hiding if they want to keep selling their diapers! But that's a topic for another time, or one to search out for yourself in the May/June 2010 issue of Mothering - look for the piece called "The Diaper Dilemma").