It’s a Racket, Baby.
Why we spend so much on baby things and what it does to families
My third baby was my best sleeper. From just hours old, Baby B developed a habit of sweetly nodding off to sleep on my shoulder. Having been used to fussier babies who needed a lot of parental effort to fall asleep (think: a perfectly wrapped swaddle, holding them at a 45-degree angle while bouncing around the room to a particular Ed Sheeran song playing on loop), I was mesmerized by this dreamy baby who could be put down in his bassinet without a fuss. But my joy was cautious. I kept preparing myself for what I assumed was inevitable, “He’s going to wake up one day and become a normal fussy infant.” I found myself repeatedly thanking G-d, “Hashem, this is amazing. I know it won’t last, but if it’s only for a day, week, three weeks, six months... Dayenu, I’m grateful.”
But blessedly, that day never came. Baby B was just an amazing sleeper—and continues to be, even as a school-aged child!
Like all parents tend to, I started to credit myself. Maybe it was because I was getting better at this whole parenting thing. I was more relaxed, more confident, and it rubbed off on him, right?
Wrong. When we had our fourth baby, I came face to face with the age-old nature/nurture debate. Baby R didn’t want to sleep on my shoulder—or anywhere, really. A few weeks in, I found myself scrolling through online sleep forums at 2 a.m., and eventually I bought a super special sleep suit (I won't name the brand, but it was very on trend two years ago), hailed as a miracle by desperate parents everywhere. It was a dud for us though. I tried it a few times with Baby R—none of them successful.
My desperate purchase encapsulates what’s wrong with the baby product industry and what's wrong with us for getting caught up in it.
First-time parents tend to buy everything. More seasoned parents should know better, but sometimes fall into the traps anyway. When a parent-to-be asks, “We live in a small one-bedroom apartment, what do we actually need for our baby?” People flood them with lists like:
- Bottle warmers
- Wipe warmers
- Baby-specific blenders
- Breastmilk pads
- The Doona stroller
- A second, sturdier stroller
- An umbrella stroller
- A changing table
- A diaper bag
- Bassinet
- Crib
- Chairs
- Vibrating chairs
- Wear-carriers
- A night nurse
- Diapers
- Wipes
- Creams
- Baby shampoos
- Baby bathtubs
- Baby bathtub inserts
- Baby lotions
- Nose Frida
- Infant Tylenol
- Gas drops
- All manner of baby clothes
- Baby gyms
- Floor mats
- Toys
- Electric pump
- Hand pump
- Breastmilk storage and cleaning supplies
- Bottles
- Formula
- Blankets
- Swaddles
- Crib sheets
- Stroller sheets
- Stroller accessories
- Baby massage kit
- Travel changing pads
And this is nowhere near the full list.
But here’s the truth: we don’t need most of that stuff. Sure, babies require a few essentials, but it’s a fraction of what the industry and well-meaning friends want parents to believe, and what parents, in a frenzy of perceived control over their soon-to-be-new-life, think they need. Baby products make up a multi-billion dollar industry that keeps growing, even as birth rates decline. It’s no surprise that parents get swept up in the spending frenzy. The consequences of these new purchases impact more than just new parents though. Babies are often where family consumption starts going off the rails.
So why do otherwise rational people buy things like wipe warmers or baby car seat strap covers?
1. We want our kids to have the good stuff and to protect them from discomfort. It’s natural—we love our children and want them to have everything good. We want to shield them from any sadness or discomfort. Of course when we stop to think about it for a minute, or if we examine the research, we know it is neither possible nor desirable to engineer all types of challenges out of our kids' environments. And some challenges, like a slightly misaligned car seat strap or chilly wipes, can be solved with a well-placed shirt or a moment in your warm hand rather than yet another purchase. I'm not suggesting we ask our newborns to develop grit, but it's important to recognize that in our ability of being able to “throw a little money at a problem,” that some problems have better, non-money solutions.
2. Babies are adorable, and we want to celebrate that. Little socks, baby ruffles, tiny hats—who can resist!? And when friends or family are welcoming a new baby, buying sweet gifts is a common way to celebrate. I think it's brilliant that baby showers are not a Jewish custom, because, yes of course ayn hara, but also any opportunity to limit the baby stuff is welcome. Waiting until baby arrives for most purchases ensures you don't end up with endless unnecessary items that will likely collect dust. In addition to well-meaning gift-givers, parents express their love and excitement by buying cute things because it gives a dopamine rush—and just like social media or food—too much is problematic, and it can be hard to control. While buying a cute toy or a precious onesie may feel good in the moment, buying becomes addictive and self-reinforcing.
This addictive behavior can be harmful both chemically and financially, as these indulgences add up. Three hundred dollars a month (not uncommon, based on my unofficial anecdotal survey of the landscape) in stroller muffs, baby snowsuits, and nursery decorations for example, is $3,600 per year. The opportunity cost of this kind of spending can be huge. If parents didn't spend on these things–meaning, they spent less on some, did without others, and found some used from friends and family, in five years in a conservative high yield savings account with not a cent added, they would have $4,620. If they added that money each year, and/or kept it in longer…you do the math. If one plays with the numbers over five years, they can easily wind up with an extra 30-40k. Instead, they have a lot of stuff crowding their charger ports, cluttering their closets, outgrown and waiting to be given away.
3. We want control in an uncontrollable situation. When the baby won't sleep, the parent hires a sleep consultant, or buys a sleep swing, or a new swaddle, or, like me, a sleep suit – anything that promises an easier go of it. But the truth is, there really aren't any shortcuts. Many babies just don't sleep well, and every two weeks or so, babies change completely anyway; they hit new developmental milestones and will sleep better, or they'll get a cold or start teething, so whatever shortcut you bought won't work anymore, if you were lucky enough to have had it work at all. Another common example: a woman's breast milk supply is low but she wants to keep nursing. She may be able to hunker down with the baby, limit stress, nurse more, drink tons of water, and make sure to eat well (certain foods like oats and beer are recommended), and successfully increase her supply. But admittedly, all of that is hard to do, and it may not work anyway. Instead, many women feel desperately sad when their milk supply drops, and they buy supplements, new pumps, special brewers yeast and fenugreek cookies only to stop nursing shortly after anyway.
Being a parent is hard! But luxury consumer items or silly Amazon purchases rarely make it easier. Things take over our houses, causing stress they were meant to alleviate. It's also death by a thousand cuts, financially.
This isn't to say that certain purchases don’t have their place, or that a sleep consultant or baby nurse is the worst thing. The point is to be mindful of why we're spending. Are we trying to buy our way out of discomfort or fix a temporary issue with things? We need to discern between actual needs and what the baby product industry tells us we need.
In addition to the financial cost, what happens in babyhood lays the groundwork for spending habits we develop as our children grow. Buying away discomfort, using purchases to celebrate—these tendencies extend far beyond babyhood. If we don’t keep it in check, this kind of consumerism will naturally lead to clutter, financial strain, and entitled kids. None of these outcomes are what we envision for our families, but they are the clear consequences of momentum created in the baby consumer craze. They put strain on our finances and our relationships.
Ramit Sethi has carved out a brilliant niche discussing the money psychology of couples. He counsels couples of all means (from the very wealthy to the massively in debt), and a recurring theme for parents who struggle with money is that they spare no expenses for their kids. Often, these parents grew up feeling deprived in one way or another, and they want their kids to have better. But what they are actually doing is making them worse off. With this trajectory, their kids will lack financial literacy, self-control, and security, with stuff all around them but not enough money in the bank for a bigger vision, for richer lives. I recommend listening to a few episodes of couples, especially if they are parents. In some ways, it is easy to say, "Oh, but I would never…" or "that doesn't sound like us," but listen closely and we can see each couple's problems clear as day; if we can apply a fraction of the lessons we learn from them in our own lives, we'll all be better off.
So the next time you feel tempted by another product, whether it's for your baby or not, pause and ask: “Do we really need this?” “In addition to the thing itself, what am I trying to accomplish with this purchase?” Let's try to avoid the racket.
P.S. Baby R, now a toddler, sleeps from 7pm - 6am at least three nights a week now.
What do you think? What is the most outlandish thing you've seen people buy for their kids? What have you bought in the throes of baby-fever?
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