The Shower of Style

**Warning: pregnancy and baby-related post**

This past Sunday was my baby shower, thrown by my mom. It still seems like a surreal thing to be pregnant, let alone to be the center of attention at a party where people give you gifts for the being that you are still convinced must be a dream. But I digress into my own neuroses…

The group at the shower was mostly family, with a few friends thrown into the mix. I was glad to see each and every one of them, knowing that they would be a wonderful support for me once the baby arrives. Some of them had not seen me since before the pregnancy, and were absolutely beaming at seeing me that day. Of course, the majority of them had no idea what we had been through to conceive this kid, so they simply assumed that we had waited the respectable three years into our marriage to go ahead and get pregnant. Little did they know.

I do have to say that this kid is going to be absolutely stylin’. I got a ton of baby clothes, thankfully in a variety of sizes. All of them were adorable, and I could not get over all of the matching accessories. Socks, hats, blankets…all of them matching a particular outfit. For now. I bet that about a month into motherhood the kid will be wearing whatever socks happen to be clean, with whatever outfit has not been puked on yet that day, and if everything matches, I’ll win the grand prize. Hell, I have a hard enough time dressing myself for work, and I’m supposed to have a kid that matches?

I got a bunch of gear, too, although I will need to make a trip this weekend to the store to get the last of the newborn essentials. Oh, yeah, and I should probably finish that nursery furniture so that I have somewhere to actually put everything. Yeah, that. Hmmmm.

And I am still entirely picture illiterate. Those of you who tried to link to the highchair that I so cleverly could not link to a few posts back…you know that I’m a computer fool. So, I can’t share with you the many piles of loot. Sorry. I will try to get it in gear after the grand entrance of the kid, but I make no promises.