HAYS: Waving goodbye to the family's babyhood era

Babies aren't born with accessories. It just feels that way. There is much gear, equipment and tools to purchase, learn and use in bringing up baby. Thankfully, the hospital provided a diaper bag full of stuff to take home with us. They even installed the car seat. Fully stocked and packed, we buckled up for the ride home and our new lives as parents.

Baby diapers and bottles did not seem too complicated. Except when you are so sleep-deprived that you put the diaper backward on the baby or forget to turn off the stovetop that is boiling the pot of water sterilizing the bottles. I can still smell the burning plastic.

Thermometers and nasal aspirators are simple tools with no moving parts to worry about, unless you factor in the squirming child. There have been a few occasions where I really thought the aspirator might have plowed through the nose and into the brain.

A stroller is fairly easy to work with, so long as you remember how to unfold it and lock the wheels to park it while you are unbuckling the baby from the car seat. Apparently, level parking lots do not exist.

You could always forgo the stroller and use a baby sling or wrap. When we first tried a wrap, my wife would spend 20 minutes wrapping/re-wrapping before I could even try to weave the baby in. Inevitably, some limb would find its way free, transforming the wrap from a weight-bearing support into a long, knotted blanket. The 30-page manual should have been a clue.

Seat belts, whether high chair, stroller, swing or car seat, are the worst. They require constant cleaning, as they unintentionally serve as napkins, bibs, Kleenex and baby wipes. The belts are never the proper length necessary. They are usually too tight, a determination often made after realizing your immobile child is beginning to turn blue or pinching a thigh. Neither is very popular with the baby, but it does set the bar of proper expectations of parental competence.

Couple that with a tantrum, and you have the makings of a miserable mission impossible. There is nothing quite like trying to get a screaming child into a car seat — especially in a crowded parking lot where passers-by can only see your back in an open car door. You feel like you need a megaphone to announce that there is no need to contact child services as you're merely trying to get a cranky baby buckled in. Babies instinctively know how to arch the back in such a way that makes them slide right out of the seat. If they are in a snowsuit, you might as well get in, let the car warm up and turn up the radio to wait it out.

At the end of a long day, you finally get to lay your special snowflake into the crib. That is, if you can remember the right combinations of push, pull, lift and lower to move the rail. Eventually, I decided to just kill my back by leaving the rail up permanently. Subsequent crib purchases featured all stationary rails.

A few weeks ago during bedtime, our 2-year-old daughter excused herself from story time to walk to her crib, climb the front rail and vault herself over. Bouncing on her mattress, she giggled, clearly proud of her accomplishment.

"It's time," I said to my wife, not yet realizing the true impact of what that actually meant — until I saw the tears in her eyes. Though toddling for a while, our 2-year-old daughter is still our little baby. As I began taking the front rail off to convert the crib to a day bed, I realized that was the last crib we will have.

Our baby is officially a little person, and I don't think I appreciated the baby stage enough. I sat there, Allen wrench in hand, just thinking about things I will miss the most. The toothless smiles, complete awe and enthusiasm for the mundane, the tiny clothes, the helplessness and complete trust in me. A bittersweet milestone to be sure.

Actually, I will consider it to be a pretty sweet milestone if it means we are any closer to her getting completely potty-trained.

Drew Hays has served students in various leadership roles in his 15 years in higher education. He lives in Evansville with his wife, Andrea, and their three children.