Mon petit bébé and I have settled into something resembling a rhythm and these late October, November days have been as golden as the leaves on the ground. Well, they’re more of a yellow actually. The leaves. But if I said “These days have been as yellow as the leaves on the ground” you would think “Oh does the baby have jaundice?” and she doesn’t. So I said golden and we won’t discuss it any further.) Thankful doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about what an easygoing two-month-old I’ve got; I can’t imagine how much more challenging this season would be if my little girl didn’t have a solid sense of humor about her mama.

Probably as challenging as reading through thousands of baby product reviews. Ba-doom tss. (WHAT A SEGUE WOW LINDSAY YOU’VE STILL GOT IT.) So okay, we didn’t buy very many things for the baby before she was born. The one and only major purchase we made was the crib which I was for some reason obsessed with getting and setting up before she came - well, Zoe’s two months old and the only one who’s slept in it so far is the cat. (Don’t give me any advice about how to keep him out of there. I have internet access too and I promise you none of it works.) Her changing table, for example, is a dresser that one guy at work gave me for twenty bucks because he was moving to the Bay Area like everyone seems to when they’ve had enough of this city and that another guy at work completely refinished for us for free. (Here’s a tip for having a baby on a budget: Make sure you know a lot of people with slightly older kids and tiny apartments. They’ll be really eager to gift you their kids’ old high chairs, diaper bags, and even a breast pump and it will all be way nicer than if you waited for them to buy you something brand-new at a shower because who spends real money on other people’s kids no one okay bye.) Well one of the things we were fortunate enough to receive was a stroller, which I actually really like. It’s the “travel system” (ooOooHHoOHh) kind with a carseat that pops on and off. The thing is that we don’t own a car so the carseat thing is a bit of a wasted perk, plus it makes it more cumbersome than I want for when I start needing to maneuver her around Manhattan. (“Enough about the stroller,” says Papi Chulo/Sonny/Dexter the tiny cat from his perch on top of the air conditioner that we still have not taken out of the window. “You’re losing them. Nobody cares.” “And take a nap, for the love of Aslan,” calls Griffon from the kitchen, where he’s watching Zoe sleep in the stroller we are currently discussing because I have to trick her into taking naps. “Cats don’t speak English. You’re hallucinating.”)

So I started looking at strollers and almost immediately threw up. The baby shower episode of The Office had prepared me for the price tags (and thanks to Dwight I knew what basic safety features to look for) so the cost wasn’t shocking, but the reviews on these things are out of control. If you ever want a reason to give up on humanity I suggest you visit BuyBuy Baby dot com and browse a little. “Voice on GPS feature grating. Diaper bag lost at coat check. Ladies’ room disappointingly small. Service at swim-up bar slow.” ALL I WANT IS FOR THE THING TO NOT FLIP OVER AND KILL US BOTH. And a cupholder would be nice. Who are these poor kids whose parents are nitpicking strollers that cost more than my rent and how can we save them? The things are meant to hold the children, not raise them, unless I missed a very vital chapter in “What to Expect.”

This is not what I meant to say. Stroller reviews, really. But I hear chubberina cherries waking up and I must, must must go kiss her feet now. I must.