the unbearable cuteness of being.

If you thought babies were cute, you should see their clothes.

If you thought their clothes were cute, you should see them after they've been laundered.

Thanks to the ongoing generosity of our extended family, we've begun assembling the baby's image, including wardrobe and accessories, and while I don't think the baby will care if it comes home in a three-piece Baby Lauren ensemble, I can't deny that I'm a little impressed that my child will be dressed more fashionably than either of its parents.

Unfortunately, thanks to the continuously improving ultrasound technology, I think it is a lot less common to wait until the baby is born to discover its sex. We decided that we would wait to find out at the birth, even though the ultrasound technician could have told us a few months ago.

This increased likelihood of already knowing the sex results in an industry-wide shortage of gender-neutral clothing for newborns. Again, I know that the baby doesn't care, but this means we have a growing pile of yellow duck clothing along with plenty of the poop-endangered white.

Ducks: the gender neutral gamebird. Who knew?

And the subsequent conclusion, you can put a girl in blue, but you can't put a boy in pink. Actually, you can't put a girl in blue if you are bothered by strangers asking, "What's his name?" Putting a boy in yellow may cause a similar problem. My mother is appalled that we've put a airplane-oriented bedroom set on the registry, and has offered to hand tie pink ribbons to it should the baby turn out to be a girl.

In summary: I have completely revamped my standards on gender-neutrality as applied to children under 3 months old. I am ashamed, as a woman who tends to prefer men's jeans, but then, I have boobs to clear up any uncertainty.