Intimidating might not be the word you think of when you see a front patio full of breeze-swaying onesies, but there was a time when a good glimpse of just one, measly, lone onesie could have thrown me into a panic... or at least a slight depression.
I took a deep breath and gave the onesie I had brought a sideways glace. I looked at the "Nocturnal Owl" and he looked at me. We both knew that we would be up against some pretty tough nuts in the onesie competition. After all, darling, precious and sweet in tiny sizes are really hard to beat, and the nocturnal owl, I am sorry to say, more-or-less fell into the funky, unique, different, "well now, aren't you interesting?" category. A risky bet. An unreliable wager at best. There was an outside chance we would win, but a better chance that we would be laughed out of the baby shower ring.
Before approaching the clothesline, I gave the onesie a good talking to and a shake, "Now listen here. You showed up and that is most of the battle won. Smile and try to sparkle ... be winning, I mean. You won't know the other onesies, but that is okay because they will most likely be nervous too. Just be yourself."
I anxiously turned my onesie over to the girl with the clothes pins, and she hung it to the spot where later, it would be judged by the mama-to-be. I turned and walked into the party - leaving it there - feeling abandoned, self-aware, slightly off-center, extremely large and yellow. I'll let you work out which of us felt that way.
I wish that I had taken a picture of the owl hanging with the other adorable onesies, but this is it. I just took the one, lame picture you see above for the previous posting. I hadn't even done anything about the wrinkles yet.
It really is such a bummer you didn't get to see it bravely hanging on that competition line because although it was odd, and a little out of place, it won!
When it came time for the competition, the mama-to-be passed slowly up and down the line, carefully observing each onesie offering.
Between you and me, I think she felt a little uncomfortable picking a favorite at all. She seemed to be afraid of hurting her guests' feelings, but in the end, she stopped in front of our onesie (I call it *ours* because you have stayed with me throughout this adventure), and she chose it as her favorite!
It probably helped that I had tossed it into the "Wrinkle-Rid" cycle before the party.
Maybe the mama-to-be was just desperate to get the picking over with and ours was the largest at hand? Maybe she picked it because it was just so terribly odd and therefore eye-catching in its own way? I am not sure, but she picked ours none-the-less!
We won!
The shower experience was good overall and I am glad that I went. Although I did not know anyone other than the pending mama, the other guests were very friendly, and I didn't really feel too sorry for myself until the lady sitting next to me started nursing her two-month-old. Just about the time I thought I might start thinking up excuses for leaving early, the woman seated on my other side, pointed to a woman across the room and whispered, "She has two young sons, but her husband walked out on them."
I don't think that she meant to gossip, she was just chatty - maybe a little nervous too? But her tidbit of information stopped my self-pity in its tracks. I was stunned. The lovely woman across the room probably did not want my sympathy. Truth be known, she probably did not want me to know her story at all, but my heart broke for her - for her sons.
It does not seem fair that on one hand, a girl who cannot seem to have children would have a perfectly wonderful husband who could make a really swell father, while on the other hand, here is this other woman who has sons, who needs a father, but has zilch. Not fair, right? For a really crazy moment I thought, "She needs my Handsome." And then, I took that rotten thought back and put a big, black X across the idea. No way I am trading him away for no-one, no-how, no-way!
I felt quite suddenly very thankful to have things just the way things are. Content to be happily married - even without children. I had been afraid to attend the shower for fear of increasing discontent and self-pity. Instead, I raced home to my husband with feelings of relief and joy.
I hope that I do not sound insensitive to the other woman's situation. Nor do I mean to congratulate myself on having a decent husband either. I just mean I am just so thankful that God is the One who decides -that He knows- our sorrows and burdens. I do not know the woman, but my guess is that at this point she would not trade her sons for a happy marriage.
What I mostly mean to say is that Saturday makes one baby shower down. Mark it with contentment rather than sorrow, and truly, that is a victory.
Now, anyone know any good, available men?
That onesie OWNED. Etsy for the winner!
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