Somehow I've wound up on the baby beat down at the Statesman. It's my own doing, really. I pitched one baby story to my editor (an easy sell since she has a one-year-old at home) and another spun off from that.
The first piece ran Thursday and involved an interactive online feature teeming with locally made baby gear.
(Read it here, and be sure to separately click on the interactive portion: http://www.statesman.com/life/content/life/stories/style/07/19/0719baby.html)
This story had me skulking the baby boutiques all week for appropriate items. A few local "mompreneurs" mailed their stuff instead, and when I asked about the best way to return it them, they told me just to keep it.
So now the 400-square-foot studio of this twentysomething-about-town contains not only an impressive shoe collection, a closetful of minidresses and a coffee table collapsing beneath too many fashion magazines, but also a) one Baby O On the Go nursing ring and scarf and b) two packages of Diaper Baggies, cute plastic bags designed to eliminate messy diaper disposal. Naturally I have nowhere to put any of this, so it's sitting on my couch.
If my dwelling were spontaneously buried in rubble and unearthed hundreds of years later, I wonder what future archaeologists would conclude.
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I was at a BBQ a couple weekends ago and suddenly it dawned on me that I was the only woman there who had never given birth. On one hand, it seems like it would be fun to join the Mom Club, but then I still want to run screaming in the other direction. The juxtaposition of nice shoes and Baby Baggies seems to be symbolic of such feelings.
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