All the gear, but no idea.

It was when I first attempted to put up our travel cot that I realised I'd been completely duped.  Not by the cot itself, but by the all those articles on websites and in the Mother & Baby magazines that had started to litter the house with all the "family to be" must haves.  Up until the age of 29, I had no idea what a travel system was and I would have been pretty sure that 'Isofix' was a type of grout that was used on igloos.  And here I was, grappling with a piece of baby equipment that I hadn't got the foggiest how to construct!

I'm your standard bloke really, I love a gadget as much as the next guy.  You see, the thing is, with most electronic items or nifty garden tools, the only persons safety that you need to consider, is your own - now all of a sudden you have the single most precious thing you've ever had responsibility for, and one switch out of place or the catch clipped in the wrong way round... Your darling apple of your eye could quite easily become part of the pram.

When it comes to prams, there's a certain level of excitement that creeps up in a father-to-be's stomach.  It's as though you've been given carte blanche to go out and buy the car of your dreams.  Before I knew it I was stood in a baby shop in the Sussex countryside, and had been lured into discussions on turning circles, quick wheel release and front steering suspension; this was just like standing in the showroom of BMW, but with a slightly more "motherly" sales assistant.  I felt that excited feeling in my stomach sink slightly when the aesthetics of the pram were somewhat compromised when the conversation turned to rain covers and footmuffs.  Furthermore the added extras started to mount up - detachable cup holders, travel system adaptors, adjustable parasol and not forgetting the lambswool fleece lining.  My dream pram/car was starting to morph into a glamorised golf buggy.

This I learnt, was only the beginning of my troubles.  We were kindly lent, what I can only describe as a baby lazy-boy   With a built in speaker system, multi-swing toy arms and three different soundscapes built in, this was probably the most advanced piece of baby equipment I had yet to encounter.  There were two simple settings in terms of seat positioning - Toddler and Baby.  Simple you might think?  Well, it took two of us, three different screwdrivers and the best part of an hour to work out which bracket needed to be removed and reattached in a different position, not my idea of a relaxing Saturday afternoon.  Those of you who have ever taken home a piece of flat pack furniture from the big Swedish blue box will know exactly how I felt afterwards.

So back to the travel cot... at this point I had one hand holding onto the clip-in sides trying to get them to stay level, whilst pushing down on the middle and keeping one eye on the one page instructions that might have well been the solution to a Rubik's cube.  I realised that for the foreseeable future that at least every other week I was going to be blighted with a new challenge, and not a challenge that I had carefully selected, but one that was thrust upon me, without prior consultation.  Surely as a new father I had prepared myself for this, surely I had read all the manuals that clearly stated that as a brand new parent you were expected to understand the ins and outs of a three tiered position cot and a Moses basket stand - no not me, I was, and still am destined to be the dad with all the gear, but no idea!

My advice, should there be any, is fairly simple.  Buy only what you think you need, think compact and think light.  Don't worry about what your friends in your NCT class are thinking of getting, and certainly don't listen to your mother/mother-in-law who will quite happily reiterate the benefits of a Silver Cross until you realise you've made the worst retail based decision since your Hi-Tec shell suit in the early nineties.  Either way, you'll end up with gear that you love, gear that you hate, and gear that you simply loathe.