Thoroughly Modern Mammy Maria Rushe writes an honest to goodness poem about all the stuff parents gather when a new baby arrives.

This week on the blog, I ran a series called “I am some things the Baby Books forgot to mention” Mum.

Read them here

One of the biggest changes new parents face, is The Stuff.

New stuff, gifted stuff, brought home stuff, found outside stuff… From the second you buy the first little babygro to hold dreamily over your barely-there bump, you shall gradually acquire stuff.


You only thought your house was chaotic before the baby arrived.  For something so tiny, they bring a savage amount of stuff with them.

The BS Bibles (baby books) spout such nonsense as “Don’t worry! Babies don’t need to take up ALL the space in your home. Dedicate a shelf or drawer in your living room to baby essentials to keep them close at hand. The Baby’s clothes etc should be kept in Baby’s nursery (includes image of pale grey and white, empty, tidy nursery…) The Moses-basket should be in a well appointed space, not too close to any radiators or draughty doors/windows. A well organised changing station will help keep the home mess free.”

Where does it prepare us for the explosion of STUFF that ensures that EVERY nook and cranny of your once tidy-ish home gets covered in Baby. It’s like a giant Baby lifts the roof off your house and projectile VOMITS a load of utter CRAP all over EVERYTHING. No room escapes and while for the first few weeks you might be able to contain the Baby stuff to a few baskets or to one corner, once they begin to play with toys or move about, the house slowly becomes overwhelmed by toys that seem to reproduce and multiply while we sleep.

Now thankfully, myself and The Him are at the stage where we have slowly but surely removed things like bouncers and sterilizers etc from our home.  Apart from the Toys (EVERYWHERE), the other space swamping stuff is banished to the attic, to be brought down for visiting babies or to lend to other new parents only.

It was World Poetry Day during the week.  And so, here is a poem:


(should be read/sung to the tune of “Raindrops and Roses” from The Sound of Music.)

Nappies and Dodees and cute little sockies
Big teddies, small teddies, horseys that rockie,
Elephant mobiles that fly on their strings
These are just some of the new baby’s things.

Baskets from Moses and funky shaped pillows
Grufallos, Minnie Mouse, Wind in the Willows,
Breast pumps and bobos and wee plastic pots,
Plastic spoons needed for feeding your tots.

Where’s the dummy?
Close the stairgate.
Get the nappy baaaag.
I simply can’t deal with this amount of stuff
I miss the space thaaaat I had.

Cushions and door clips and safety latches
Lift all those candles and hide all the matches
Puke cloths and poop bags and powders and creams,
Lego and puke stains on all of your things.

Carseats and carriers, high chairs and bouncers
Pushalongs, teethers and measures for ounces
Video monitors keep mammy calm
And Daddy’s still learning to fold up the pram.

Toys toys toys toys,
Toys toys toys toys,
Did I mention toys?
I simply am listing the simplest of things
We gather for giiiiiirls…and boys.”

And just like the list the BS Bibles give you, this is by no means exhaustive. You will find more crap to add to it and you will wonder why you didn’t take millions of photographs of your lovely fengshuey-ed, Cath Kitson-esque, picture perfect home BC to send to ‘House and Home’
And as for new furniture or carpets?
Don’t bother your arse until they’re old enough to know NOT to write on the cushions with glitter glue.

Wrecking balls…
Absolute wrecking balls.

And we wouldn’t have it any other way…

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