I thought sending out baby shower invitations would be easy.
I had my wedding less than a year. I literally just did this. How hard could it be?
Apparently, very hard.
For starters, there are so many people whose addresses I don’t have. That’s not even the weird part. The weird part is that I reached out and asked for them… and then people just never responded.
At a certain point, what am I supposed to do? Send the invitation through vibes? Manifest it directly into your mailbox? I think virtual cards are a little cringy.
I hate being the person who follows up three times. If I ask for your address and you don’t answer, I’m eventually going to assume you don’t want an invitation. So if you’re reading this and wondering where yours is… check your messages.
Then there’s the identity crisis portion of this adventure.
Why does nobody go by their actual name?
I have an aunt who has been Wanda for my entire life. Not once has anyone called her anything else. Apparently Wanda is not her real name.
How was I supposed to know that?
Trying to address envelopes has turned into a genealogy project. Every five minutes my mom is telling me, “Actually her legal name is…” and I’m sitting there wondering if I’ve known any of my relatives at all.
The thing that’s really confusing me, though, is the math.
I ordered the exact same number of invitations, envelopes, and stamps as I did for my wedding.
The exact same number.
Two people who came to the wedding aren’t coming to the baby shower. Fair enough.
So why do I somehow have six extra invitations?
Where did these mystery wedding guests come from? Did I accidentally invite strangers to my wedding? Did people multiply? Did someone bring four emotional support plus-ones that I forgot about?
I genuinely don’t understand.
All I know is that between tracking down addresses, discovering everyone’s secret government name, and questioning my own ability to count, sending baby shower invitations has been way more stressful than I expected.
The good news is that the invitations are almost done.
The bad news is that if anyone asks me for an address after this, I’m deleting my phone and moving to a cabin in the woods.
