Ah, brunch with a newborn—what could possibly go wrong? I’ve always been the type to get ready in a flash. I can go from shower to car in about 30 minutes. So when it was time to dress my little one for brunch, I thought it would be a breeze. After all, it’s just a baby, right? They don’t even need to shave!
Picture this: my partner Alex, our adorable newborn, and I were on a weekend getaway to a friend’s condo in Palm Beach. It was my first outing since giving birth four weeks earlier. Alex had gone fishing early in the morning, and I was set to meet him at a waterfront restaurant around noon. I figured he had the tough job wrestling fish while all I had to do was get our little tax write-off dressed and out the door.
Oh, the naive optimism of a first-time mom! Let’s break down the real process of dressing a newborn for brunch:
Step One:
Start by putting your baby in a fresh diaper and a cute onesie with little pants. Then strap them into the car seat. Voila! You’re halfway there.
Step Two:
Time to pack the diaper bag. Don’t forget the essentials: diapers, wipes, Balmex, and a couple of bottles of formula (because you might have had a rough time with breastfeeding—no judgement here!). Toss in five pacifiers for good measure, just in case they end up on the floor. Oh, and you’ll need three extra outfits for any potential spit-up catastrophes.
Step Three:
Realize you’re running late. Make one last dash to grab your wallet, keys, and sunglasses. Sling the diaper bag over your shoulder, pick up the car seat, and reach for the door.
Step Four:
Uh-oh! Baby starts crying. Correction: screaming.
Step Five:
Put everything down, unbuckle the baby, and—surprise!—they need a diaper change.
Step Six:
Sigh deeply.
Step Seven:
Head back to the guest room and lay the baby on the bed, ensuring they can’t roll off, even if they can’t move yet.
Step Eight:
Open the diaper, then duck! Your little one has just unleashed a pee fountain. Attempt to shield the spray with your hands, but somehow manage to increase the area of coverage. Meanwhile, your baby is now also crying about it.
Step Nine:
Notice the clock. You’re late!
Step Ten:
Grab wipes, diapers, Balmex, and a clean outfit from the bag.
Step Eleven:
Carefully strip off the wet onesie, trying not to pull anything too hard. Wipe down the baby, then put on a fresh onesie.
Step Twelve:
Squeeze Balmex onto your fingers and attempt to apply it to that squirmy little bottom. Of course, you get it everywhere except where you need it.
Step Thirteen:
Toss the second soiled onesie across the room in frustration.
Step Fourteen:
Look at your naked, wiggly baby with pee and Balmex all over them.
Step Fifteen:
Cry a little.
Step Sixteen:
Decide brunch is overrated. Why do people even leave the house before dinner?
Step Seventeen:
Fill the sink with warm water and gently wash your slippery baby. Good luck with that!
Step Eighteen:
Dry them off, grab another diaper and outfit, and head back to the guest room.
Step Nineteen:
Find a dry spot on the bed to lay your now-clean baby, redress, and re-diaper them.
Step Twenty:
Check the diaper bag—oh no! It’s looking sparse.
Step Twenty-One:
Repeat your favorite curse words like a mantra.
Step Twenty-Two:
Imagine if this were a scene from a Judd Apatow movie. Start laughing hysterically.
Step Twenty-Three:
Strip the bed and toss all the pee-soaked linens into the laundry.
Step Twenty-Four:
Congratulations! You’ve officially set a record for being late to brunch.
Step Twenty-Five:
Grab the diaper bag, keys, sunglasses, and car seat. Say a little prayer, even if it’s not your usual routine.
Step Twenty-Six:
Drive to the restaurant at a slow but frantic pace. Valet your car—after all, you deserve to not haul everything across the parking lot.
Step Twenty-Seven:
Spot the waiting mimosa at your table that your thoughtful partner prepared. Weep tears of joy and gulp it down!
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In summary, dressing a newborn for brunch is a comedy of errors. From diaper changes to unexpected fountains of pee, it can feel like a monumental task. But amidst the chaos, don’t forget to savor those moments—and maybe the mimosa too.