exersaucerI bought an “exersaucer” yesterday. I’d like to say that it was one of those well thought-out, planned, strategized for purchases that parents make for their children. You know, like a crib or their first car. Instead, it was one of those “Oh poop. Erin doesn’t fit in her swing or bouncer seat anymore! What do we do? We can’t carry/hold her FOREVER! Let’s go buy something.”

Honestly, we don’t know where Erin’s giant-like proportions come from. Kate is 5′ 3″ and I’m 5′ 6″ if stretched out on a rack. She’s outgrowing things that almost 6-month olds shouldn’t be outgrowing. So, since our friends have the uber-snazzy Baby Einstein Discover & Play Activity Center for their child, we naturally had to have it too. And ours is better since it’s newer. Ha.

I picked it up yesterday on my way home from work from our local Buy Buy Baby. I had them get one from “the back” since they only had one available on the floor and the box had a hole kicked in it. I got it home and began unpacking it only to find one of the red legs was crushed and broken. If our child’s safety wasn’t such a stickler with us it would have been fine. So, I returned it today at lunchtime and got a new one. This one was just fine. No holes in the box. No crushed pieces.

I assembled it in a record-breaking 13 minutes – since I was on my lunch break – and we plopped Erin inside it. She immediately looked like she was going to cry, but then started to notice all the wonderful new things around her. The book. The star. The circle thing that looks like the “Simon” game from the ’80’s. She christened each one with her slobber before playing with them – like a dog marking his territory. “If I stick it in my mouth and gurgle, it will be forever mine.”

Her favorites so far are the bendy star thing and the “simon” thing, though she has played and enjoyed each and every station multiple times. She pushes the “simon” buttons with her nose to make the duck quack and the cow moo. She’ll figure out those pesky fingers eventually.

On a side note, I’d like to publicly thank and apologize to my sister Jess at the same time. She offered her son Mikey’s exersaucer to us to use awhile back and we had every intention of taking her up on the offer. Unfortunately, we needed one sooner than later and felt it was a purchase worth splurging on. So Jess, thanks but no thanks.