You Need A Place to Set The Baby Down

The Baby Bjorn bouncer, the Dock a Tot, and the tiny freedoms they enable

Welcome to Did It Work?, a semi-regular feature where I discuss things we bought, were gifted, or tried with our baby, and whether or not those things worked. This week: The Baby Bjorn Bouncer and Dock a Tot.

I love to hold my daughter, even though– not to brag– she’s recently figured out how to kick me directly in the boobs. She’s tiny and cute and tens of thousands of years of evolution means that my brain needs me to hold her in order to keep her safe from saber tooth tigers and aggressive obscure relatives. Plus, babies love to be held. It’s one of their favorite things. But it’s not possible to hold her all the time, either physically or psychologically.

Back when we were expecting, one of my husband's former colleagues–himself a dad– gifted us a Dock a Tot with the note "Because you need a place to set the baby down."

The Dock-a-Tot is a baby-sized cushion that costs $150, with a removable cotton cover that must be washed and hung to dry with the care of a fancy sweater. We didn’t register for one, and it seemed like an awfully expensive way to “set the baby down,” but a gift is a gift, and a baby gift from a new parent is often both a gift and a piece of valuable advice.

We did register for a Baby Bjorn bouncer because my friend Joanna, who has two little boys, said it “literally saved her life.” I felt a little silly asking friends and loved ones to consider purchasing what looked like a stylish $200 lawn chair for infants. I’ve never owned a $200 lawn chair for me, myself, an adult who gets muscle cramps and took 14 years to pay off her student loans. From ages 23-28, the centerpiece of my living room was a couch that cost $280 I bought on sale from a furniture store on Milwaukee Ave that I’m pretty sure was also used to launder money. “But, if it’s good enough to keep Joanna from literally dying, it’s good enough for me,” I thought.

“You need a place to set the baby down” was one of those offhanded truisms that didn't register as significant at the time, but it was. Sort of like when people say "You'll forget most of it" about childbirth, or “It takes work!” about marriage or "Go to class" about college.

“Where can I put the baby?” was a thought that consumed me in the first weeks of Juniper’s life. She was so tiny and floppy; her bones and muscles had the integrity of al dente noodles. She barely had a neck. She wanted to be held almost all the time, even while sleeping. She got wise to her bassinet and the very act of setting her down in it would sometimes set her off. I needed a place to put her down where the cat wouldn’t jump on her and she wouldn’t cry.

The question of where to set the baby down isn’t simple. It would feel wrong and gross to put her down directly on the floor, since we have a dog and a cat and they’re always tracking god knows what around our house. And you can’t just set a baby on a random elevated surface. The thing about babies is that they can’t roll off a dresser and onto the floor until they can, and they give no indication of when they gain that ability beyond going ahead and doing it.

Where to set the baby down is also tricky because newborns aren’t exactly capable of being “entertained.” When they’re brand new, babies do not care about any of the toys that are allegedly newborn appropriate. They don't "play" in any traditional sense. My kid didn’t care about her activity center. She hated Tummy Time. She didn’t want any of the “age appropriate” toys sent in the 0-3 month Lovevery box. She just wanted to be held and to eat and to not have a dirty diaper.

Enter the Dock a Tot. I can’t tell you how many naps during those early days took place supervised and next to one of her parents on our couch. A few times, I put it in the middle of the bed and lied down next to her with a book or my phone with TikTok open. It was a lifesaver when I needed to do something that required more than one hand, like blowing my nose or applying chapstick or replying to emails. It's not that difficult to disassemble and clean. It does what it's supposed to without being a pain in the ass.

As Juniper got older, her ability to entertain herself increased, but so did her ability to injure herself. And that’s where the Bjorn bouncer came in.

The pricey Swedish bouncer is nothing like the technicolor robot rockers and bouncers that populate the baby aisle at Target. It is understated, thin but sturdy, no-frills, and not very cuddly, much like a Swedish person. Our doula complimented our choice, saying that it had also “saved her life” when she was doing postpartum doula work for a client with twins. We are lucky to have a few friends with the budgets of MBA party aunts, and so we were gifted it off our registry.

It’s so nice to be able to strap the baby down and not feel bad about it. It’s great for when you need to use the bathroom and you’re the only one home and you can’t put her down in her crib because if you do she’ll get mad and start crying so loudly that you can’t relax enough to use the toilet. When only one of us has been home with her, from the vantage point of her bouncer, my daughter has safely and happily watched both of her parents poop.

The Bjorn is specifically nice because can fold up for storage and adjust to different heights, but isn't complicated to set up or adjust. It doesn't require batteries or a power source. Another huge plus is that it doesn't play music. I learned quickly after having a baby that toys that play music are the actual devil, and are to be avoided if possible.

So: did the Dock-a-Tot and Baby Bjorn bouncer work? Absolutely. Because until we figure out ways to levitate babies while they’re not eating or sleeping, you need a place to set the baby down. Anything you can find that safely enables this is more than worth it.