I thought I wanted what every parent probably wants for his child: the best. That was until I realized that perhaps the "best" could cost over a thousand dollars.
Guest blogger Steven Grossman: My adventures in pending fatherhood began with the baby registry. I had decided to accompany my wife to our local baby superstore, because I thought it was necessary. I had learned from previous experience -- a.k.a. the bridal registry -- that when you aren't part of the process and let your trigger-happy wife wander off with the registry gun, suddenly lots of unnecessary things -- like twelve butter servers -- will arrive on your doorstep, nicely gift-wrapped. And you aren't allowed to complain about it.
Given how my past mistake manifested itself in objects taking over our cabinets and kitchen, I wanted to be really involved in creating the baby registry, so history wouldn't repeat itself in our nursery. Unfortunately, that decision only lasted about an hour and a half, at which point I wanted to slam my head against the wall -- repeatedly.
I didn't care about blankets, bottles and nipple creams; I just wanted to have the best-dressed little man in town. So I spent the majority of my time in the clothing section, trusting my wife to pick out whatever else she wanted (such as one of those fun, little Pack 'n Plays -- or as I call them, portable baby cages). The trust I bestowed upon her lasted until I was summoned to rejoin her to help select a stroller.
I thought it would be an easy decision. I thought I wanted what every parent probably wants for his child: the best. That was until I realized that perhaps the "best" could cost over a thousand dollars. At that price, shouldn't the strollers be motorized? Shouldn't they have an engine and an alarm system? Then perhaps we could justify the sticker price and call them something like "a really old car."
After the salesperson pitched some of these luxury strollers to us, I still felt puzzled. I kept asking myself how could a stroller cost more than a thousand dollars? One had a seat that spun fully around; others worked well on rough terrain (I'd love to know what kind of serious
off-roading some parents plan on doing with their babies). All of the strollers had one feature in common: They sucked a lot of money out of your bank account.
At first, I thought we were crazy to even consider getting one of those luxury strollers. Then somehow I started to justify it in terms of how many years we might use it, how many kids we plan to have, whether it could make our lives easier, etc.
My wife and I completed our registry that day, but still haven't decided what stroller to pick. We keep asking ourselves: Are they worth the price? Given all the numerous options, it's become a bit of an overwhelming decision. So we've decided to put it on hold while we do what any smart consumer does: research.