My wife and I are expecting twins. More than that, though, we’re expecting greatness. In 2015 you can’t have a baby without thinking about The Big Picture. We know that every decision we make now will have a ripple effect that leads our unborn children to either Harvard or heroin addiction (or some undignified outcome in-between, such as chain restaurant manager.)

As parents in Los Angeles, it is absolutely imperative that we overthink every decision to the point where we’re so wracked with guilt and self-doubt that we consider giving the babies up to better people so that we do not inflict our failure upon the world. (We won’t give them up, of course, because in addition to wanting a family, we think these kids could be really good for our Klout scores, as well as provide parent-to-parent networking opportunities.)

With the baby shower approaching, the time has come for us to register for gifts. This gift registry will help my wife and me (both of us journalists and therefore wearers of tattered rags and eaters of beans from a can) afford the multimillion-dollar endeavor that is modern parenting.

More than aiding us, though, the registry offers a snapshot of how well the unborn Donatelli twins are progressing socially. Will our friends and family purchase gifts that say, “These children will offer bold leadership in the challenging 21st century,” or will the gifts signal to the world that our children are merely normal?

Last week we went to the most accurately named store in North America, buybuy BABY, to look at furniture. I take that back. It would be more accurate to call this store ByeBye Money, but I’m not complaining, because I know that before my kids can be successful at life, they have to be successful as babies. The right furniture will give them the confidence they need to compete with motivated Indian and Chinese infants.

We were pleased with the crib selection.

The London Euro Crib is absolutely Churchillian

The London Euro Crib is absolutely Churchillian

First we looked at the London Euro Style Convertible Crib, which we think could give our babies a certain worldly, continental appeal. You see a baby in a London Euro Style Convertible Crib, and you can’t help but think, “This baby is sophisticated and intelligent and has a towering command of global markets.” The crib’s simple, classic design signals a minimalism that will prepare today’s child for the eco-ravaged 21st century, when we will all have to make do with less in order to save the earth. Environmentalism starts in the crib.

See the world ... from a Tuscany

See the world … from a Tuscany

What’s not to love about the Tuscany Convertible Crib? (For you non-parents, these are called Convertible Cribs because you could buy a convertible with the money you spend on the crib. But not a good convertible. More like a Sebring.) The Tuscany denotes a certain joie de vivre, broadcasting that this child has a healthy appetite for love and life and art and good food and wine. Who among us does not think “baby crib” when they think of the Tuscan countryside? This particular crib prompted us to ask a question that all parents must ask at some point, “Will our child be a Medici or not?”

The Torino gets zero miles to the success gallon

The Torino gets zero miles to the success gallon

We did not like the Torino. A crib named after a gas-guzzling American motorcar? Why don’t we just trade our children to gypsies for beads?

The Brunswick ... made from presidential timber

The Brunswick … made from presidential timber

The Brunswick by Munire. Now there’s a crib from which a voice may scream that will one day be heard in the White House. Combining German efficiency (Brunswick) with Italian artisanship (Munire), the Brunswick offers an unparalleled combination of craftsmanship, inspiration, aspiration and teething guards (sold separately).

To older generations, this all must seem like a lot of fuss—the deep research and the agonizing over every decision that younger generations have made part of being a parent—but when I look at a crib, I don’t see a crib. I see a Harvard college admissions officer. I see a man in a grey suit looking at an application, nodding in approval and thinking, “This, here, is a Brunswick child.”

Joe Donatelli is the Sex & Culture editor of Follow him on Twitter: @joedonatelli.

Have a comment? Leave it on our Facebook Page.