Ready or not, here they come.

Yesterday I dragged Graham with me to the grocery store.  I needed him to tell me what I should buy for him to eat since lately our eating habits have become really different from one another’s.  That, and he’s way better at lugging stuff into the trunk than I am.

Graham has expressed interest recently in buying a few extra cans of food every week to keep inside what he’s dubbed, “Our Emergency Preparedness Kit.”  I think he’s envisioning another black-out sometime this summer, although why it’s this year in particular that he’s concerned, I’m not sure.  Maybe it’s his way of being a responsible fatherly-type.

As we walked down the toiletry aisle, lined on one side with shampoos, anti-perspirant and dental hygiene products, I couldn’t help but notice the other side of the aisle was packed with formula and diapers.

“You wanna start stock-piling diapers?” I asked him, tongue in cheek.

“Are you making fun of me?” he replied.

“Not at all, honey,” I told him.

“Sure, we can buy some diapers,” he said.

Although I’m ready to buy extra cans of baked beans and apple sauce in case of a power outage, the idea of starting to pile up boxy packages of diapers before we’re even out of the first trimester is just…daunting.

I’ve never considered myself a superstitious woman, but I’ve been avoiding buying baby stuff so far.  It’s not that I think, logically, anyway, that something will go wrong.  It just sort of feels like bad luck to buy things for this wee person who’ll be joining our family before I can even feel him or her inside of me.  I think on some more irrational level I do feel like if I accept the reality of the baby coming, then all of the joy that is forthcoming will be somehow whisked away from us.

Then today, like some kind of magic trick, as I was heading outside with the weekly pile of recycling, I found a large box on the front porch.  President’s Choice had sent me a selection of their G.R.E.E.N. line of products to try out.  And there, tucked inside the parcel, mocking my insecurities?  A package of diapers.  There are diapers in our house.  There’s going to be a baby living here.

Whoa.

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