Single In Sarasota by Loren Mayo

Babies.

It’s almost a difficult word for me to say, considering the fact I am nowhere near ready to have miniature hands and feet prodding every piece of furniture around my condo and constantly begging for attention. I am also not ready for the crying, whining, diaper changing, burping or feeding. Or the mashed-up food. Yuck. And did I mention crying?

I’ve only attended one baby shower in my life. Two weekends ago, I attended the second — for my friend Cindy V. in Orlando. It started at 11 a.m. But … I didn’t arrive until 12:45.
(Sorry again, Cindy.)

So, the night before the shower, I found myself shopping at Target around 8:30. It had been a long week and this was the only time I had for shower shopping. Registry in hand, I stalked up and down aisle eight checking out stuffed monkeys, rockers, monitors, toys, shoes, socks, hats. I came across a mommy-to-be womb sound player, which just plain creeped me out. I looked at wraps and slings and blankets.

Then, it hit me.

Was Cindy having a boy or a girl? I checked the shower announcement. It didn’t say. Neither did the registry. I wasn’t sure Cindy had known what she was having last time we had chatted, quite a while back. I guessed a boy. That sounded right. Of the items yet to be purchased on the registry, none were pink or purple. There were white onesies and some other non-colorful baby things. But I couldn’t just go guessing. The only thing left to do was to call in reinforcement.

“Mayo!” I heard on the other end of the phone.

“Hey Mer, how are you?”

“I’m good, just driving over to Randi’s to help get ready for the shower tomorrow, how are things with you?

“Well … I’m embarrassed. Really embarrassed. I’m actually at Target right now shopping for tomorrow and umm … I sort of don’t know how to ask this, because I feel horrible not knowing, but … is Cindy having a boy?”

Meredith laughed. “Yes, Loren, she’s having a boy.”

“OK good, that’s what I thought. I’ve been wandering around the isles trying to find a really good gift, but then I realized I’m a total idiot for not knowing.”

Meredith kept laughing at me until she arrived at Randi’s place (she was smart to drive over ahead of time) and then hung up to help Randi with whatever else was in need of prepping.

I continued my search. The shoes really caught my eye. I wanted them all, especially the pink little girl shoes with bows and sequins, but I couldn’t exactly stock up on baby shoes; that would just be weird. I went with some little camo shoes that had crisscrossing Velcro straps. Adorable. Then I found a green micro fiber wrap, which I thought would be cute to bring the little one home in. (Mind you, everyone at the shower knew his name but me — Max.) I scanned aisle nine for one more gift and found something that, according to my mom, was one of my favorite childhood games. Good ole Johnny Jump Up.

I didn’t exactly remember the days of jumping up and down and back up again, but my mom told me I would play in that jumper for hours and be totally content. Into my arms went the box, and I was off to the checkout line.

The following day …

There are two things that have definitely never been my strong suit: timing (I’m phenomenal at arriving late) and geography.

I brought the address to Randi’s and the directions she had e-mailed with me as I left the house at 9 a.m., perfect timing to drive the two hours to Randi’s. I needed coffee, though, so off I went to Jolly’s for a caramel latte. I was on the road — until I noticed I was going to need a bit more gas if I planned to arrive in O-town without stalling on the side of the road.

I was ready to go again before I realized that while I had put all of the gifts into a nice blue bag, I had no tissue paper to make it into a presentable gift. Or a card. Back to Target I went. By the time I got on the interstate, it was clear I was going to be a few minutes late. Enter torrential downpour until halfway down I-4, at which point I miss the 417 Greenway exit to Randi’s and continue driving until I’m passing Universal Studios. Way to go, Loren.

I called my friend Kim, but she wasn’t sure which way to go either. And her Internet was down, so there went mapquest. And my handy Verizon Navigator wasn’t working. Great. I knew where I was, I just had no idea how to get to an exit called Narcoossee. I tried Brandy, who was not alone on this particular Saturday morning, but still willing to help me out. She got me from John Young Parkway I randomly decided to take to the 528 toll road, so we hung up as I refilled my gas tank (thank you, big SUV), and eventually to Randi’s. It was a lovely 30-minute phone conversation and I know Brandy was thrilled to spend her morning giving me directions.

At 12:45, I timidly knock on the door. Meredith opens it, embraces me in a hug, and takes me into the kitchen with my other college girlfriends. Then I hear, “I love your blog!!!” I’m still chuckling about it.

I look around and into the living room, and see my friend Maria’s daughter, Kiera. Off in another direction is Randi’s son Alex. I had to admit, they were cute. Until Kiera started screaming for some unknown reason and Alex got a little restless and cranky. Again, I was glad I didn’t have any little ones of my own.

I counted the girls in the room — all were engaged, married or married with children. Meredith and I were the only two single gals in the group. And I was okay with that.