The Carousel of Progress!
August 23, 2005
No, I have not gone into labor or run off to Vegas on a Greyhound bus. I'm just really tired of writing about my goddamn nursery. But that's all I have to talk about, because that's ALL I DO AND THINK ABOUT AND ALSO DO. Nurserynursery nestnestnest.
See? You're bored already. I can tell.
But boring or not, this is where we stand:
Crib: Assembled, despite missing instructions. We are smart and handy, although there are an awful lot of screws left over.
The crib is outfitted with a heartbreakingly pretty bedding set that my brother sent us -- a bedding set so extravagant that when Jason zapped it with the registry scanner thing at the store we both sort of laughed at the mere IDEA of anyone actually buying it for us because NO ONE loves us that much. But shockingly enough, my big brother does and I'm so glad, because we probably would have waited another three weeks to assemble the damn crib if we hadn't both been foaming at the mouth in anticipation of seeing the bedding set in action.
Thank-You Notes: Horrifically behind. Have not even acknowledged receipt of bedding set to brother via phone or email. Am hoping he reads this entry. Otherwise, am huge brat. But also hugely pregnant and therefore excused. Right?
Bouncy Seat: Assembled. Needs batteries. Went to Target yesterday for batteries and a laundry hamper; ended up spending $160 on baby-related items instead. I'm...still not really sure what happened. Money! Gone! Poof! Left with bags of tiny socks and burp pads and a very small bathrobe that I'm pretty sure isn't a necessary item for an infant to own but IT WAS ON CLEARANCE, PEOPLE. IT COST $6 AND HAS DUCKS ON IT.
Pack-N-Play: Assembled. Also needs batteries for the vibration/nature sounds/white noise features that I'm sure I will hate with the heat of many hot suns. Is strategically placed right next to the bed for easy baby feeding and middle-of-the-night collisions when I get up to pee.
Funky-Hanging Door on Dresser/Changing Table Combo Thing: Fixed. We went to Babies-R-Us this weekend to buy the boring shit off our registry that no one bought us. (I cannot believe no one bought the breast pump! Or the waterproof mattress pad! Or diaper rash cream!) While we were there, Jason sweet-talked a salesguy into giving us a non-bent hinge from a floor model. Score!
Nesting Instinct: Sated at last. I can now spend every waking hour in the nursery, folding tiny clothes and putting them in drawers to my heart's content. Then I get to change my mind and re-fold everything and put it in different drawers. It's ridiculously awesome.
And I won't even talk about my love for the closet organizer and the tiny, tiny hangers.
Or how much fun I have arranging various diaper-changing necessities. I want to hug my diaper stacker and good lord, even the vaseline has its very own place and I will KILL ANYONE who disturbs the delicate order of my changing table.
Yet I have only done one load of baby-type laundry. I cannot bring myself to rip tags off his clothes. That would imply that I am definitely having this baby and that nothing will go terribly, horribly wrong.
(Why everything else on this list fills me with peaceful joy while the thought of ripping tags off a $6 baby bathrobe fills me with neurotic terror, I'll never know.)
(Oh. Right. The Crazy. That's why.)
Photos: Um. Yeah. So while the nursery looks nice and mostly clutter-free right now, we've kind of let the rest of our house go to hell. Currently, the following things are creating a major fire hazard in our living room and foyer:
Nursery furniture boxes
Diaper Genie box
Bouncy seat box
14 assorted Amazon.com boxes
2 LACK coffee tables from IKEA
1 spare dining table that we haven't used in five years
1 barely-used high chair Jason retrieved from curb that will now be returned to curb since someone bought us a much nicer one
423 wire hangers
Oh. My God. The wire hangers. See, Jason used to keep his clothes in the nursery closet downstairs, leaving me with the entire walk-in closet upstairs. Glorious. But now sacrifices have to be made and his stuff needed to move upstairs. I decided this was something I could do. Two things I learned:
1. Jason has way too many shoes for a heterosexual male.
2. Jason is the wire hanger equivalent of a crazy cat lady.
Seriously. Every time he took something to get drycleaned, he tossed the extra wire hangers in the back of his closet. Where they took root and entangled themselves into a big, interconnected mess. I tried to pick up one hanger and a rat's nest of about 47 other hangers would follow.
Jason was embarrassed that I'd discovered his secret hanger stash and tried to explain how he MEANT to throw them away but they were all so tangled and it was just easier to ignore them and then the next thing he knew they were overtaking the entire closet, and at that point he just shut the door and decided to only wear clothes he could pull directly from the dryer.
See? Just like those crazy people who try to explain how they didn't MEAN to end up with 326 cats, Your Honor, it just HAPPENED.
Anyway. My point: I have temporarily lost the camera in all the clutter and have no photos of the nursery just yet.
But I'm guessing y'all will find a way to cope and move on with your lives. And you're probably only annoyed at the no-photo-ness of this post because oh my God, this means she'll do ANOTHER entry about the nursery once she finds the damn camera, and we're never, ever going to hear the end of it.
I'm sorry. This is what happens when you aren't allowed to drink anymore.