Over the past weekend we were given a most wonderful baby shower. Now, I've only been to three baby showers in my life until I went to my own. The first one was for a good friend, well, actually, it was for his girlfriend, and he wasn't there (long story) and it ended up being very weird and awkward and near the end of it the guitar started to get passed around and if you know me, you know how much I hate it when a guitar gets passed around. Because there is tremendous expectation for me to become a jukebox for people, and I really don't dig that. Needless to say, when the guitar came out, I promptly left. The second baby shower I went to was for one of my closest friends. She was the first in our tight knit group to have a baby, and she decided that she'd have her shower at a bar. Because, hey, just because she wasn't drinking didn't mean all of us couldn't raise a glass. So, yes, a bar baby shower, with men and women in attendance. The third baby shower was for my sister-in-law, and I helped plan it but I didn't know at ALL what I was doing. Her mother-in-law and I worked together to make a baby shower afternoon happen, and I think it was pretty nice, except I forgot to bring some gifts from her mom, who was living overseas at the time. It was highly embarrassing. But while we planned the shower, I did do some research and found out about some obnoxious games people play at these things and swiftly decided there would be no games of this kind.
Now, I have a wonderful little community here in Lansing, and several people offered to throw me a baby shower. The culmination of their generosity was on Saturday, and it really was a lovely afternoon. There were no games. No guitar passing. But there was wonderful company, amazing cake, lots of laughter, and a big booty to help us get ready for Baby B's arrival into the world!
 |
The Baby B(ee) cake, my friendly shower attendees, Kevin looking 7 months pregnant, and
blocks with little messages for Baby B. |
 |
| The Shower Planners, Side view of my giant belly, Kevin trying on the chicken towel. |
