|It's a....OH, who cares?!|
The latest trend I've heard about is a Gender Reveal Party. Wouldn't you love to be invited to one of those? Well, I would not. I'll just tell my friends right now: Save your stamp. I'm not coming.
Think about it, pregnant friends. I have suffered through the weekly pregnancy bump pictures being posted on Facebook, the grainy ultrasound image that I can't tell heads or tails (vaginas or "turtles"), the Lilypie ticker thing on your blog counting down every damn minute of your pregnancy, and the constant Twitter updates re: your food cravings, your lack of appetite and/or your husband's "sympathy" weight gain.
I will attend a baby shower where I will bring you a gender-neutral toy and guess what candy bar has been microwaved in a diaper to create "poop." I'll probably gross everyone out and lick one of them. It will be funny. People will laugh and it will make your shower fun and memorable.
Once the baby is born I will watch the YouTube video of the beautiful birth. I will bring you a dairy-free, non-spicy, vegetarian meal (because you'll be breastfeeding and the baby will have "issues" with whatever you eat). I will listen to you regale me with how different you feel now that you're a mother and how much you love your little guy or gal. I will listen to you cry about your baby blues and I will pat your back and tell you it's going to be OK. I will hold your baby and cuddle him or her while you eat your hot, dairy-free, non-spicy, vegetarian meal - eat up, it might be your last hot meal for a while.
After I have agreed to happily do all of the above you now want to me to go to a party and throw pink or blue confetti depending upon the color of the cake you serve?
Come on! Please, please, please stop throwing a party and making everything an "event" in your life. Yes, finding out the gender of your child is an important thing and you would like to share it. But no one except maybe your parents really gives a shit what you're having. No one wants to get dressed up and hire a babysitter (because, of course, kids aren't invited to this soiree) and plaster on fake smiles like fools while you cut a pink cake or open a box of blue helium balloons or sky write "one of each" or whatever the fuck you're going to do to raise that bar and make your gender reveal party better than your co-worker's!
You're just not that special. Now, knock this shit off and get some sleep - you're going to need it.
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