Oversized Baby Discrimination

It’s no secret – I am the proud mama of a chunky baby boy.

And by chunky I mean giant. He’s just a giant ball of love.

It’s part of his charm. The dude is irresistable. (I would insert  comment here about gobbling him up, but the fact that 3 separate people sent me Buzzfeed’s “There’s Actually a Scientific Reason You Sometimes Want to Eat Your Baby” article last week tells me I should steer away from future cannibalistic statements.)

So, as the proud mama of a chunky baby boy, a sad reality has come to my attention. Something that needs addressing ASAP.

The world, as we know it, is not designed for oversized babies. 

At all. Not a bit.

So here I am, world, raising awareness. It is time we end oversized baby discrimination.

Starting here:

1. Bumbos

There was a short period of time where Hutton could fit into a Bumbo.

As in, like, February 24th from 2-4pm when he was 3 weeks old.

After that, this:

*prints picture for future therapist’s file*

Bumbo actually responded to a tweet about this back in May:

To which I replied, “here’s an idea…make bigger leg holes for your ‘big guy’ line” and I was hired as COO on the spot.

Or at least I should have been. Their loss.

Speaking of seating…

2. Infant Car Seats

Remember that time my 5 month old couldn’t sit up yet but maxed out the weight of his infant car carrier? Yeah, that.

We moved him to the seat we bought his brother when Beckett was well over 1 year old.

I propose Big-N-Tall infant car seats that a) have a higher weight limit and b) are remote controlled. Arm muscles can only take so much, you know?

3. Shopping Cart Belts

I saw a 5 year old buckled into a shopping cart seat at the grocery store yesterday.

How does that happen? (And more importantly why? but we can talk about that another time.)

Honestly, how? Because this is my (then) 8 month:

He’s really only smiling because we just stepped foot in the door. A few aisles in, he’s usually slumped over unconcious due to the lack of oxygen to his brain.

Oversized baby discrimination, you guys.

4. “My First” Onesies

Really, I could go into great detail about how ill-fitting all of my dude’s clothes are, but whaddyagonnado. Awkward body type, you know?

What I haven’t accepted is all the cute “My First Christmas” onesies lining the shelves these days. I sigh when I see them.

Turns out “My First Christmas” onesies don’t come in toddler sizes.

I mean, I get it. Being a 10.5 month old, my son should fit comfortably in 9-12 month clothing. But he doesn’t. He fits tightly in 18-24 month clothing.

Don’t punish him for being delicious, festive-baby-apparel makers.

5. Stranger Banter

When Hutt man was about 4 months old, a stranger at Dillard’s tried to hand him a quarter (after asking him his name). I started reaching for my CHOKING HAZARD horn, but then I realized he thought Hutton was a toddler. So I kindly grabbed the quarter and answered on behalf of my infant.

Strangers always assume he’s at least twice his age.

Technically his body thinks he is, too, so I can see the confusion. (Hence why the Halloween costume I bought in advance was never worn in public.)

I often find myself saying things like, “No…he can’t walk yet.” and “He doesn’t know how old he is yet.” and “Cut him some slack, he was born like 12 hours ago.” and stuff.

You know what, world? My oversized baby may not ever be able to wear shoes (hello, thick feet), ride in your cart, wear “my first ___” apparel, or shop in the teensy-sized Target baby section, but I wouldn’t trade his rolls for anything in the whole wide world.

Oversized babies like this guy can withstand incredible amounts of older sibling “love”, hide entire bites of food in their crevices for hours, tone my arms faster than any Crossfit regimen, and snuggle like you couldn’t possibly believe. It’s like having your own real-life, giggly pillow. (A heavy one, but fluffy nonetheless.)

In conclusion, world, I’d just ask that you remember the big guys.

They make the world go round.

(Literally. They’re very round.)