Ditching the Cringe: Baby Shower Activities People Actually Like

I was standing in my sister-in-law's cramped kitchen, holding a flimsy plastic spoon, trying to scrape melted, lukewarm Snickers out of a newborn diaper while seven women I barely knew stared at me in absolute silence. The chocolate had congealed in the leg gussets, and the smell of artificial nougat mixed with the lavender scent of the diaper was making my morning sickness flare up in a major way. That was the exact moment I decided traditional baby shower games are a form of psychological torture.

I’m just gonna be real with you, I don't know who invented the concept of pretending a candy bar is infant stool, but they clearly never had to change an actual blowout at three in the morning. Between running my Etsy shop out of our chaotic garage, keeping three kids under five alive, and trying to maintain some semblance of my sanity here in rural Texas, my patience for forced, cringeworthy party activities is in the negatives.

When it was my turn to host a baby shower for my best friend last month, I threw the whole rulebook out the window. Honestly, sometimes hosting feels like putting on a weird baby show where the mom-to-be is the exhausted main attraction, and I refuse to participate in that nonsense anymore.

My absolute least favorite tradition

Let’s talk about the toilet paper bump measuring game for a second. You know the one. Someone passes around a roll of two-ply, and everyone rips off a section they think will perfectly wrap around the pregnant woman’s waist. It sounds innocent enough on paper, but in practice, it's a nightmare.

First of all, you've to stand there in the center of the living room, sweaty and hormonal, while your husband’s great-aunt literally sizes you up like livestock at the county fair. Then comes the horrific moment of truth where people wrap their guess around your waist. Half the room underestimates your size, making you feel huge, and the other half pulls off a piece of paper long enough to wrap around a standard-sized Honda Civic, which makes you want to cry in the bathroom.

It’s humiliating, it’s entirely focused on a woman's changing body during a vulnerable time, and it almost always ends with somebody making an awkward comment about twins. My Mamaw used to say, "Jess, if you don't have anything nice to say, just offer them a deviled egg," and I think that logic applies perfectly to commenting on a pregnant woman's waistline.

And don't even get me started on the chug-apple-juice-out-of-a-baby-bottle race, because nobody over the age of two should be drinking from a silicone nipple.

A completely different party vibe

My oldest son, bless his heart, is my ultimate cautionary tale for all things pregnancy-related. He decided to make his grand entrance at 34 weeks, exactly twelve hours before my own first baby shower. I spent the entire afternoon in triage hooked up to fetal monitors while my aunts and cousins ate tiny cucumber sandwiches without me. I completely missed my own party, and you know what? Looking back, I think I dodged a bullet.

By the time my second and third babies came around, I told my friends I didn't want any structured games at all. We did what the internet is now calling a "nesting party." You basically just invite your favorite people over, eat decent food, and maybe tackle one practical task for the nursery while hanging out.

If you absolutely must have a structured baby shower game because your mother-in-law will throw a fit otherwise, keep it passive. The clothespin game is fine—you hand everyone a pin at the door, and if they say the word "baby," someone can steal it. It requires zero effort from the host, and people get surprisingly competitive about it without having to pause their conversations.

The blindfold test for real survival items

If you want to do something interactive that actually benefits the parents, the blindfolded diaper bag game is the only one I’ll tolerate. You take a really nice bag and stuff it with practical things the mom will actually use, and guests have to stick their hand in without looking and guess what they're touching. The mom gets to keep the bag and all the stuff inside.

For my best friend's shower, I stuffed the bag with burp cloths, a giant tube of diaper cream, and the Walrus Silicone Plate. I've to tell you, this plate is my absolute holy grail item because the suction actually works, unlike the cheap plastic junk my oldest kid used to pry off the highchair and launch across the kitchen like a frisbee.

When my middle son was about fourteen months old, we had the great flying spaghetti incident of 2022. I spent an hour scrubbing marinara sauce off my baseboards because his flimsy dinnerware flipped. This walrus plate has these deep sections so the peas don’t touch the mashed potatoes—which is apparently a federal crime in my toddler’s eyes—and it's made of completely non-toxic, BPA-free silicone. You just mash it down on the high chair tray, and it stays put. Plus, you can throw it straight into the dishwasher when you're done, which is a non-negotiable feature in my house.

The truth about those onesie painting stations

I know the crafting station is super popular right now. People buy a multi-pack of plain white newborn bodysuits, lay out a bunch of fabric markers, and tell guests to get creative. It sounds like a sweet keepsake idea, but I'm going to ruin the magic for you.

Most people are not artists. You're going to end up with twenty irregularly shaped bodysuits covered in crooked smiley faces and inside-out inside jokes that you'll feel incredibly guilty about throwing away, but you'll also never put on your actual child.

More importantly, my doctor, Dr. Miller, casually mentioned to me once that newborn skin is incredibly permeable and prone to contact dermatitis. I’m no scientist, but the idea of pressing heavily dyed, chemical-laden permanent marker ink directly against a fresh baby's chest just seems like a recipe for a weird rash. I guess the experts say some non-toxic markers are okay, but my second kid broke out in hives if the wind blew the wrong direction, so I just don't risk it anymore.

If you want to provide a beautiful outfit as part of the shower, skip the DIY disaster and just pool your money for something high-quality and gentle, like the Flutter Sleeve Organic Cotton Baby Bodysuit. It’s made from 95% premium organic cotton, which means it breathes and won't trap heat against their sensitive little necks. It’s got a tiny bit of elastane for stretch so you don't feel like you're wrestling an angry octopus when you're trying to dress them, and the flutter sleeves are just ridiculously cute without being impractical.

If you're trying to put together a thoughtful prize basket or build a registry that won't end up sitting in a donation bin three months from now, you should probably just browse through Kianao's full collection of sustainable baby gear instead of wandering the aisles of a big box store.

Late night diaper jokes

The only craft I do endorse at a baby shower is writing on diapers. You buy a massive box of newborn and size one diapers, dump them in a pretty basket, and leave out some sharpies. Guests write funny, encouraging, or completely unhinged messages on the outside of the diaper (the part that doesn't touch the baby's skin, obviously).

Let me tell you, when you're running on forty-five minutes of sleep, dealing with a crying infant at 4:15 AM, and you pull out a diaper that says, "At least it's not a hangover" in your college roommate's handwriting, it honestly helps. It breaks the tension. Just make sure the markers are dry before you stack them back up, or you'll end up with a blurry mess.

Prizes that really survive the ride home

Nobody wants a tiny plastic trophy shaped like a pacifier or a cheap scented candle that smells like a middle school bathroom. If you're going to force people to play a baby shower game, the least you can do is give them a prize that doesn't immediately go into their car's cupholder to die.

Nice bags of local coffee, a gift card to a drive-thru place, or high-quality baby items they can re-gift to other friends are all solid choices. For my sister's shower, we used the Bear Teething Rattle as a cute little tie-on decoration for the prize bags. I'll be honest with you, it's just okay. I mean, it’s undeniably adorable with the little blue crochet bear, and the natural beechwood ring is untreated and super smooth, which is great.

But honestly, it's a wooden rattle. My youngest chewed on his for about a month when his front teeth were coming in, and then he immediately lost interest and shoved it under the passenger seat of my minivan where it stayed until I cleaned the car out last spring. It’s a perfectly nice, safe, chemical-free add-on gift, but it isn't going to magically change your life or guarantee your baby will sleep through the night.

The aftermath of a decent afternoon

When we finally wrapped up my sister-in-law's shower, the difference in the room's energy was palpable. Nobody felt embarrassed, nobody was sticky with melted chocolate, and the mom-to-be genuinely got to sit on the couch and have real conversations with her friends instead of performing like a trained seal.

My grandmother used to insist that a party isn't successful unless there's an itinerary, but I think our generation is just too tired for that. We work full time, we're navigating a ridiculously expensive world, and our mental loads are maxed out. We just want to show up, celebrate a new life, and eat a good piece of cake without having to guess the circumference of our friend's abdomen.

So toss out the awful Pinterest printables, grab some decent snacks, and let the afternoon unfold on its own time without stressing over a schedule.

Before you start panic-ordering cheap plastic game supplies that you'll regret immediately, take a deep breath and check out Kianao’s homepage for some practical, non-toxic registry additions that will genuinely survive the toddler years.

A few questions I always get about hosting

How many games should we seriously play?
Honestly? Zero is perfectly acceptable. But if you've family members who will riot without some structure, pick two. Max. Do one passive thing like the clothespin game that runs in the background, and maybe one quick group thing like guessing the baby's birth weight. Anything more than that and you're just holding people hostage.

What if the mom-to-be hates being the center of attention?
Then you absolutely don't make her sit in a chair in the middle of the room opening gifts while everyone stares in silence. That's pure agony for an introvert. Do a display shower where gifts come unwrapped, or just let her open them privately at home. The party should be about her comfort, not providing entertainment for her great-aunts.

Are co-ed showers awkward for these activities?
Co-ed showers are only awkward if you make the guys guess what brand of breast pad is the most absorbent. If you stick to writing funny jokes on diapers or just treating it like a normal backyard barbecue where a pregnant person happens to be present, the guys will be completely fine. Just feed them and leave them alone.

Do I've to give out prizes?
I mean, you don't have to do anything, but people get weirdly competitive and they like a little reward. Just don't buy junk. Five-dollar gift cards to a coffee shop are basically gold currency for tired adults. Nobody wants a pink plastic measuring spoon set that says "A pinch of joy" on it.

How do we keep the older generation happy without doing the gross diaper stuff?
Give them a job. The older ladies in my family love to feel useful, so I put them in charge of the guest book or ask them to compile a book of family recipes for the new parents. It keeps them engaged and feeling respected, and it completely distracts them from the fact that we aren't drinking apple juice out of baby bottles.