Oh, baby showers, it’s really nothing personal, you just offer up such good material.

Erin:  First, we need to reiterate that we love babies, mothers-to-be, our families, our friends, and all uterus and non-uterus-bearing women.

Ellen: I think storks will be outraged because you forgot them in that disclaimer.

Erin: Whatever. Let the Audubon Society get in line because we are back to skewering baby showers.

Ellen: I really did enjoy our cathartic rant over baby shower games. I hate those games . . . except for the ones we made up.

Erin:  “How Dilated is She?” has a touch of evil genius to it although you’re the only party guest I know who could win it.

Ellen: What’s the point of creating a game if you can’t win it? But just to be clear, we were joking. We know people freeze plastic babies in ice cubes, but it’s going way too far to pull out exam gloves at a shower.

Erin: Good advice, but I have bigger fish to fry than games. I say it is high time to give some traditional baby gifts the boot, too. I can no longer sit idly by–eating my quiche and sipping my punch served from a bowl with rubber duckies in it–and let the notion continue that these gifts are good ideas. I will be silent no more!

Ellen: Like you have ever been silent. Is this what you had in mind?

Erin: Holy Cheez-Its, Woman! No! Burn it! WHY would you suggest that? I was thinking on a more subtle level.

Ellen:  Maybe Dexter’s mom didn’t have enough sense to reject that gift, but you’re right, a gift doesn’t have to be terrifying to be bad. You know the gifts, the ones that seem all great, but once you’re in the thick of newborn parenting you realize they’re totally useless AND they’re a waste of a huge chunk of change?

Erin: Yes, those gifts take up nursery real estate and waste cash that could have padded the babysitting fund . . .

Ellen: Or the earplugs and caffeine fund. So you were thinking more along these lines?

Erin: Yes! Exactly! The only thing these lovely bedding packages have of any worth is the crib sheet and that gets bleached to white no matter what color it started out in life. The rest ends up balled up in a closet because it’s too nice to be used as barf rags. What a waste!

Ellen: Well wasting closet space is the only place for it because, don’t forget, it is also a suffocation hazard.

Erin: This set should also come with a helmet because the canopy would make an awesome escape route when your baby suddenly learns to climb during nap time–the nap time where you finally get the nerve to take a shower AND shave your legs.

Ellen: You know what the true travesty is? It’s usually the grandmas who are buying this shizzle. They should totally know better.

Erin:  To be fair, it DOES look pretty in the catalog. Which brings me to another cute gift that should never be purchased. . .

Ellen: Wait a minute. I know we have been down on baby showers, but why are you hatin’ on cute? Remember I made this for my sister-in-law’s shower.

Erin: Your diaper cake is adorable, but it is also practical. Those are DIAPERS. Babies need a crapload of those.

Ellen: You’re so punny. But the practicality goes even deeper than you know. Those diapers are wrapped around a bottle of red vino. A little gift for momma for when the breastfeeding is over.

Erin: See! Everything about that gift is absolutely useful. I’m talking about this kind of cute.

Erin: A $200 cashmere, yes cashmere, sweater for a baby screams “My parents are clueless. Please save me.”

Ellen: It should also shout “Disposable!”  because when the inevitable spit-up. . .

Erin: and explosive poop. . .

Ellen:  happen, even a hazmat team is never getting it cleaned. Never! Who has the time or the cash for that?

Erin: Exactly! That money would better be spent on a fleet of indestructible, bleachable, versatile onesies.

Ellen: Ones you can chuck without feeling like a mortgage payment was lit on fire.

Ellen: Alright, I have another gift. It wastes money and it’s not even cute: The Wipe Warmer.

Erin: This present hits all the right buttons with the over-eager, ready-t0-dominate-the-game-of-motherhood-types. No lukewarm or chilly wipes will touch the fanny of their precious offspring. This gift sends a message that every detail of parenting is important. The fact of the matter is that you will be changing that baby on the sofa or the rug or your grandma’s antique tea cart, putting you miles away from that lovely plugged in wipe warmer. Good thing too because all that sucker does is dries them out.

Ellen:  You know what, Pollyanna? I’m going to take your crown of sunshine and positivity and throw out a shower gift that is always right: books.

Erin: Perfect! There are always so many hours in the night that need to be filled while you’re feeding . . . and feeding again. And you can only watch so much crappy TV in between the feedings before you start to go a little crazy.

Ellen: Don’t forget the sleepless nights when you’re pregnant too.

Erin: Especially towards the end.

Ellen: I had never experienced insomnia in my life until my third trimester. Between sleeping with what felt liked a honey badger burrowing under my ribs, the heartburn eating through my chest, and the constant peeing, I felt like I slept 15 minutes at most. I wish I had these books to pass the time.

At Least My Belly Hides My Cankles

by Paige Kellerman

We’re not completely suggesting you toss out your “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” but you have to realize it lacks one important thing: HUMOR. “Cankles” gives pregnant women and all moms really, the satire they need. Let’s face it, being pregnant is ridiculous. From the morning sickness, to the epic peeing, to always being the designated driver, Paige lampoons them all in the most hilarious way possible. We are partial to her roast of the sexy Halloween costume.

THIS should be your next baby shower gift because the back of the book sums it up nicely: “This book is a must-read for any mother, or anyone who has a mother to whom they probably need to apologize.”

You can purchase it here:
At Least My Belly Hides My Cankles: Mostly-True Tales of An Impending Miracle

 Ketchup is a Vegetable: And Other Lies Mothers Tell Themselves

by Robin O’Bryant

This New York Times Bestseller is the perfect blend of charm, humor, and nod-your-head-along truth. In our society where mothers are constantly encouraged to strive for perfection, Robin makes it clear that ‘Imperfectly Good’ is a high compliment. She will make you laugh until you cry when she talks about her family’s improbable visit from the FBI,her Big Berthas,and her faux cuss words. Her awkward naked moments are worth the price of admission into her world. This book is a nugget of comedy gold with a sweet center of tenderness.

Ketchup Is A Vegetable: And Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves

Erin: You may not be able to bleach these either, but they make a fantastic gift. . .

Ellen: For the new Momma and all the Mommas throwing back the punch and cupcakes.