So we bought a new bed. This is easily the most exciting news to hit our little household, at least since the last time I created an entirely new family member in my uterus. Our little double bed has always been one of those things we preferred complaining about to actually, you know, sacking up and solving the problem, but now with a dog and a cat and a baby and a really very pointy three-year-old, plus two adults with at least seven old injuries from times we got drunk and fell down sports, and...let's see, carry the one and multiply by my need for extra pillows...HOLY SHIT, did we ever need a bigger bed.
We sold some stuff on Craigslist to raise money for the purchase (we follow this guy's plan for household budgeting and wow, it really works!), including our elliptical trainer that has sat unused since it failed to bring on real, actual labor like I wanted it to. Goddamn useless piece of junk. There's something kind of embarassing about a young, super-in-shape guy arriving at your house with a fat envelope of cash for your exercise equipment -- he hauled that thing down a hallway and up a flight of stairs without breaking a sweat -- and then looking at that fat envelope of cash and being all, "I'm gonna use this for a BED, where my FAT ASS will make a nice groove in the mattress in no time. SCORE."
We bought the mattress Wednesday night, even though we fully intended to shop around and hem and haw and waffle on the whole thing to a ridiculous level, but the salesman was so desperate to make a sale, any sale, that he gave us the one we wanted at cost. And I felt GUILTY about that, what with this fucking economy and all, and how the guy had to turn lights on when we came in because he was trying to save money, because who the fuck goes and buys mattresses on a Wednesday night, and then when he started trying to sell us a probably-overpriced mattress protecter I elbowed Jason in the ribs and was all, dude, just buy it before I start crying.
(Noah, by the way, spent the shopping trip running around the empty, depressing store shrieking with joy because we were in a PALACE! Like CORDUROY! Rows and rows of beds! We have to find his button! CORDUROY!)
Anyway, we have a king-sized bed now, or at least a king-sized mattress and boxspring sitting on the floor of our bedroom, super-extra classy style, especially with our full-sized comforter just sort of floating on the middle of it, because I think I need to sell a stroller or a bookcase or a kidney before we'll actually be able to buy a bed and bedding. I didn't update yesterday because I lay down to nurse the baby one last time before writing and BAM, fell asleep for three straight hours. It's a damn fine mattress.
Of course, Ezra slept for seven and a half hours in his crib last night, and Noah was so jazzed about getting our old bed that he stayed put too.
The cat, however, still thought my legs were the best spot on the whole wide bed.
Hmm. This is a mighty boring entry, and I have no plans for a big finish. So here, I'm sitting on my new bed staring at this shadow on the wall right now, and I think it looks like Jar Jar Binks, and it's wigging me out a little bit.
I know. And I can't even blame sleep deprivation this time. I'm just really and truly this weird.
Quick! Look! It's a baby! Pretend this all I posted today, okay?