"You don't need anything except a box of diapers and some onesies," my mother-in-law announced over her Pinot Grigio at my baby shower, which was aggressively unhelpful considering I was already sweating through my maternity leggings. Then my best friend Jessica texted me a color-coded spreadsheet at 11 PM saying, "If you don't use a universal app to get this specific $400 Swedish bassinet, you'll literally never sleep again." And finally, my coworker Brenda just patted my shoulder by the office coffee machine and whispered, "Just do the Target list, honey, the returns are so easy when you're crying."

I was six months pregnant with Leo, utterly exhausted, and holding a lukewarm cup of decaf that tasted like sadness. I had no idea who to listen to. The whole process of registering for a tiny human who isn't even here yet is, like, a bizarre exercise in predicting the future. Will this baby like pacifiers shaped like cherries or pacifiers shaped like thumbs? Who knows!

Anyway, the point is, I ended up taking Brenda's advice because I was already at Target three times a week buying things I didn't need, so it just made sense. But looking back now, as a mom of a 7-year-old and a 4-year-old, I realize there's a massive difference between what the internet tells you to put on your baby registry and what actually keeps you sane at 3 AM. So let's talk about the reality of it.

The great completion discount hustle

Okay, so everyone talks about the famous 15% completion discount you get when you build your list at the big red bullseye. When I was pregnant with Leo in 2016, I completely misunderstood how this worked and I blew my coupon on, like, four incredibly tiny newborn outfits that he pooped out of in three seconds, and a fancy bottle warmer that took twelve minutes to heat up milk while my child screamed like a banshee.

What you're actually supposed to do is entirely different, and I only figured this out when I was pregnant with Maya. Instead of using that discount on a bunch of aesthetic cotton outfits that will just get stained with breastmilk anyway, hoard the discount for the big scary items like your convertible car seat, or just wait until week three postpartum when you realize your kid hates the expensive sleep sacks you bought and you frantically order eighteen different ones in the middle of the night.

This is the biggest secret: you can actually use the coupon twice. Usually once online and once in the store, though you've to check your app because they change the rules sometimes. I literally sat in my car in the parking lot, drinking an iced coffee that was mostly melted ice, adding every single boring household item to my registry—toilet paper, laundry detergent, coffee pods—just so I could get 15% off my regular groceries along with the baby wipes. No shame in the discount game.

Medical stuff that made me panic in the middle of the night

When you're building a registry, you suddenly have to become an expert on infant safety, which is horrifying. My pediatrician, Dr. Miller, told me something at our prenatal visit about how firm mattresses and back-sleeping reduce SIDS risk, which honestly just terrified me into buying the hardest, most uncomfortable-looking piece of foam I could find for the crib. I don't totally understand the exact science, but I think it has to do with their tiny, floppy airways getting blocked if they roll their heavy little heads into a fluffy blanket or a soft mattress.

He was basically like, back to sleep, flat surface, no blankets, nothing cute in the crib. Which sounds incredibly simple until you really try to put a flailing, startled newborn on a rock-hard mattress and they immediately wake up and scream like you're torturing them.

So what do you genuinely register for? Swaddles. ALL THE SWADDLES. Don't buy loose blankets for sleeping, just get the velcro ones. Don't trust yourself to learn how to fold a blanket like a burrito at 4 AM. Just get the ones with the velcro. The loud ripping sound of the velcro might wake your husband up, but honestly, Mark could sleep through a hurricane, so he deserved to be startled.

Also, Dr. Miller was weirdly passionate about rectal thermometers. I know, it sounds awful, and I put off buying one because I was terrified of it, but he said ear and forehead thermometers are basically useless for babies under three months. When Maya felt warm at two weeks old, I was so glad I had one in my first-aid kit, even though using it made me sweat profusely out of sheer panic.

The return policy that literally saved my sanity

Let's talk about the absolute best part of doing a retail store registry. The return window is, like, a full year. 365 days. I can't even begin to explain how much this saved my life.

The return policy that literally saved my sanity — The baby registry target reality check: What you actually need

When Leo was born, we had registered for these highly-rated, super-expensive glass bottles. They looked gorgeous. Very European. Very aesthetic. Leo absolutely hated them. He couldn't latch onto the nipple, he choked, milk went everywhere, I cried, he cried, the dog hid under the sofa. Because they were on my registry and marked as purchased, I literally gathered up the unopened boxes, drove to the store in my milk-stained sweatpants, and returned them for store credit with zero hassle.

Then there was the Great Diaper Rash Incident of 2017. We had stocked up on an enormous mountain of a specific brand of newborn diapers. Leo's butt instantly turned into a fiery red tomato the second those diapers touched him. Being able to haul four giant, unopened boxes back to the store six months after my baby shower without anyone interrogating me was a blessing. I just walked up to the counter, scanned my barcode, and bought the sensitive skin brand instead.

Oh, and apparently they've a group gifting feature for big items now, but nobody used it for us so I've no idea if it genuinely works, whatever.

What to genuinely put on your list (and what to skip)

It's so easy to walk through the aisles with that little scanner gun (or just scrolling on your phone on the couch while eating peanut butter from the jar) and just add everything that looks cute. But here's my messy, completely biased list of what honestly matters.

First, skip the wipe warmer. Mark was convinced we needed one because "nobody likes a cold wipe on their butt." Yeah, well, nobody likes a wipe warmer that dries out all your expensive wipes and turns them into scratchy brown paper towels, MARK. It was a complete waste of counter space.

Instead, focus on things that buy you five minutes of peace. When Maya was a newborn, I registered for one of those blindingly bright plastic play mats that played aggressive, tinny carnival music. My husband accidentally kicked the piano part one night in the dark and it started blaring "Pop Goes the Weasel" at 3 AM. We threw it in the garage.

For my second kid, I wised up and looked for things that wouldn't assault my senses. I found the Kianao Wild Western Play Gym Set and it was a revelation. It's this beautiful, natural wooden A-frame with these soft, crocheted pieces—a little horse, a wooden buffalo. I know, it sounds almost too nice for a baby, but Maya was genuinely obsessed with it. My pediatrician had been hounding me about doing more tummy time because Maya hated it and would just plant her face in the carpet and scream. But when I put her under that wooden buffalo, she genuinely reached for it. The contrast of the smooth wood and the soft crocheted horse really held her attention, and it didn't flash neon lights in my peripheral vision while I was trying to drink my coffee. Plus, it just looked so much better in my living room than the plastic monstrosity.

If you're putting together your list right now, you can honestly just softly browse around and check out Kianao's organic baby clothes or wooden play gyms, it's totally worth adding some high-quality things that will really last through multiple kids.

The teething phase is coming for you

You think you're registering for a tiny sleepy potato, but in about four months, that potato is going to turn into a drooling, angry little gremlin whose gums hurt constantly.

The teething phase is coming for you — The baby registry target reality check: What you actually need

I registered for so many teethers. Some were amazing, some were a total bust. For instance, I got the Bunny Silicone & Wood Teether from Kianao. Honestly? It's fine. It's super cute, the untreated wood is really smooth, and I love that it doesn't have any nasty chemicals. But for whatever reason, Leo just wasn't into the bunny. He literally preferred chewing on my actual collarbone or the TV remote. Babies are weird like that, you just never know what they're going to gravitate toward.

But Maya? Maya was a completely different story. When her first tooth started cutting through, she was a nightmare. She wouldn't nap, she just grunted and rubbed her face against my shoulder. I pulled out the Cow Silicone Teether and it was like magic. It's this one-piece food-grade silicone thing shaped like a cow, and it has this textured ring that was exactly the right size for her little chubby fists.

Here's the trick: I'd wash it, stick it in the fridge for twenty minutes (not the freezer, my pediatrician said freezing them can really be too hard and damage their gums, which I totally didn't know), and hand it to her cold. The relief on her face was instant. Plus, because it's just one seamless piece of silicone, I could throw it on the top rack of the dishwasher and not worry about gross mold growing inside it. Seriously, add a few different types of teethers to your registry because you'll be desperate for them later.

Just breathe and click add

Before you go down a 2 AM internet rabbit hole of reading reviews about diaper pails, just take a breath, grab a coffee, and remember that half of this stuff is just trial and error anyway. If you want to grab some really beautiful, safe things for your list, go check out Kianao's teether collection—your future sleep-deprived self will thank you when that first tooth hits.

And if you're still stressed about the whole process, here are some messy answers to the questions I was literally googling at 3 AM when I was pregnant.

Wait, I've questions...

Can I just add things to my registry that aren't even for the baby?
Oh god, yes. Please do. I added a coffee maker, an insulated mug (because your coffee will never be hot again), and a massive pack of heavy-duty paper plates because doing dishes postpartum is a joke. Use that completion discount for household survival gear. No one cares.

Do I really need a bottle sterilizer?
Honestly, I used ours for the first month because I was a paranoid first-time mom, and then I realized my dishwasher has a sanitize cycle. Unless your pediatrician specifically tells you that your baby needs everything medically sterilized due to health issues, just use the dishwasher or boil a pot of water. It saves so much counter space.

What's the deal with the free welcome bag?
Okay, the Target welcome kit is honestly pretty great, it has decent coupons and sample bottles. BUT they're literally always out of stock. Always. Don't waddle into the store nine months pregnant expecting them to have one at guest services. Call ahead, or honestly, just see if you can get it shipped to your house through the app when you place an order. It's not worth the tears in the parking lot.

Should I register for newborn sizes or size 1 diapers?
Skip the huge boxes of newborn diapers! Maya was 8 lbs 9 oz and wore newborn diapers for maybe twelve days before she started blowing out the sides. Register heavily for size 1 and size 2. If you end up with a tiny peanut who needs newborn sizes for a month, you can always use the store app to order some for pickup.

Are wooden and silicone toys really better than the plastic ones?
Look, I'm not a purist, my kids definitely have plastic toys that make annoying noises. But for things they're actively shoving in their mouths for hours on end, yeah, I strongly prefer the food-grade silicone and untreated wood from places like Kianao. It just gave me peace of mind knowing there wasn't weird paint or BPA chipping off into Maya's mouth when she was aggressively chewing on her cow teether.