I had one child, learned everything, then had another and discovered I had learned almost nothing.
When I was pregnant with my second, I was smug. Not out loud, because you learn not to say these things out loud, but internally, deeply smug. I had done this. I knew things. I had a mental list of everything I had wasted money on the first time and I was not going to be caught out again.
Reader, I was caught out again. My second child was a different shape, arrived in a different season, and had strong feelings about being dressed that my first had never bothered to express. Half of my hard-won knowledge turned out to be knowledge about one specific baby rather than about babies.
So this is the honest list: five things I got wrong, most of them twice, in the hope that you skip at least one.
Mistake One: Buying for the Size They Are Right Now
I did this with both children and I would probably do it again if left unsupervised, because a tiny sleepsuit held up in a shop is an emotionally persuasive object.
The problem is that babies grow in lurches, not gradually. My son wore size 1 for what felt like nine days. I had bought six of them, in a considered way, and they went to a friend barely worn.
What works better is buying two of your current size and two of the next one, then stopping. Yes, this means a drawer with some slightly-too-big things in it. Slightly too big is a fixable problem. A drawer of things they have already outgrown is not.
The related tip, if you are buying for someone else’s baby: do not buy newborn size. Everybody buys newborn size. New parents open a mountain of it, use a fraction, and pass the rest on unworn. Buy 3 to 6 months or bigger and your gift will still be in use when the initial flood has been outgrown and nobody has had time to shop.
Mistake Two: Assuming a Zip Is a Zip
This is the one I feel most strongly about, so I will be brief and firm.
With my first, I dressed her in popper-fastened sleepsuits for about five months because that is what I had been given and I did not know there was a debate to be had. Poppers in daylight are fine. Poppers at 2am, in the dark, on a baby who is arching her back, are a puzzle designed by someone who hates you. Miss one and every popper below it is wrong, and you find out at the very end.
With my second I switched to zips, and then discovered that zips are not one category either. A single zip running up the body means that to change a nappy you have to unzip the whole child.
A two-way zip, opening from the bottom as well as the top, means the top half stays covered, warm and undisturbed while you deal with the business end. On a cold night this is the difference between a baby who goes back to sleep and a baby who is now awake and furious and considers the night to be over.
If you are looking for babygrows worth the money, that bottom-opening zip is the feature I would put first, ahead of pattern, ahead of price. Love to Dream and a few other brands design theirs with a zip at each end specifically for this, and I noticed the difference on the very first night.
Second on my list would be breathable fabric, bamboo viscose or a decent soft cotton, because British houses swing between stuffy and freezing and a fabric that regulates itself takes one variable out of a question you are already guessing at.
Mistake Three: Dressing a Toddler Like a Baby
My daughter was about three when she started objecting to being dressed for bed. Not to bedtime, to being dressed. She wanted to do it herself, and everything she owned made that impossible.
I had kept her in all-in-ones far too long, partly out of habit and partly because they were still in the drawer and still fit. But a full-length zip is not something a three-year-old can manage alone, and it is definitely not something they can manage at speed during a sudden midnight loo emergency.
Moving her to two-piece sets changed the evening. Not the sleep, the evening. She could get herself ready while I sorted the baby, which meant one bedtime happening in parallel instead of two happening in sequence.
What makes a set workable for small hands is quite specific: an envelope neckline that goes over the head without catching on ears, a fold-over waistband rather than a drawstring, and a top long enough that it stays put when they lift their arms. The kids pyjamas sets built for this age group tend to have these details worked in, and it is worth checking for them rather than assuming, because plenty of pyjamas sized for four-year-olds are designed as though an adult will always be in the room.
Mistake Four: The Seasonal Panic Buy
Every autumn, the first genuinely cold night arrives and I buy things in a hurry.
I have done this often enough to recognise the pattern. The panic buy is always too warm, because I am buying in a state of alarm, and always the wrong weight for the middle of winter, when the heating is on and the room is warmer than it was in October.
The fix is boring: two weights of sleepwear, and one sleeping bag rated for cool rooms. I owned four sleeping bags in different tog ratings for my first child and used two. The variable is not really the season, it is your particular house, and you cannot buy your way to knowing that in advance.
Mistake Five: Not Writing Any of This Down
The reason this article exists. Between my first and my second I forgot almost everything practical I had learned. Not the big things. The small ones: which brand ran generously, what size she was that summer, how many changes a bad night takes.
Three complete sets per child in rotation is the number I eventually landed on, and it took me two children to work it out. That is enough to survive a leak at eleven, a milk incident at one and a genuine catastrophe at four without standing at the machine in the dark.
If you take one thing from this, take that. And if you are pregnant with your second and feeling smug, enjoy it. It is a nice feeling while it lasts.
