I've finally finished washing all the kids' clothes that needed it. I do have a large quantity of ironing left. There are a lot of adorable little girl's dresses, meant for little ones under one. They are all frills and lacy bits and an utter armpit to iron. I'm so glad I have a son.
It takes me back. We more or less got the cot, car seat and pushchair in time. We didn't need to worry about much else. DH's work colleague had a little boy about a year and a half earlier and wanted to sell us the kit they no longer needed. They were being made redundant and so could use the £100 they asked. I said, great, I won't need to worry too much. From what DH understood we would have a bath and a few bits of clothes.
We had three bin bags full of clothes plus a bath and a really pretty moses basket. Do you know how many baby clothes you can fit into a bin bag? They just kept coming and coming. My late mother in law very kindly washed and sorted them all for us and we didn't need to worry about clothes for the first six months. It was all immaculate, really lovely and something of a life saver as I didn't know where to start. Bear never got to wear it all, he grew out of it too quick.
Bear is a strapping ten year old now, but I still keep an eye on eBay for stuff for him. If I could give any expectant mother a recommendation I would say that you need a new mattress and a new car seat but shop around for everything else. You need less than you think.
I'm supposed to be selling (at a very reasonable rate, starting at 20p) the items, but it would save a new mum a fortune to get some of the stuff second hand. However I heard about the Baby Bank today. It's like a food bank but supporting those who have, or who are going to have, little ones and who cannot afford even the basics. I think some stuff will end up there. It's very much in the spirit of the donations.
I know women who have been that desperate with tiny babies. I know how lucky I have been with bear. It sort of puts the ironing into a perspective. I still reserve the right to grumble, even if I don't really mind.