Furnishing a Life
I've been walking into rooms and then forgetting why I've entered them. It's incredibly annoying and I generally remember three seconds after I've left the room. So now, when I enter a room, I don't leave until I know why I came in in the first place. It's leading to long moments of my just standing around, with my hands on my hips and my brow furrowed as I scan, scan, scan, trying to remember--the car keys? a book? my glass of water?--exactly what it is I wanted. Why I bring this up now, I have no idea. But there it is for you.
Maybe it's my excuse for not blogging so much lately. I've forgotten everything I want to say. But really, that's not it. I haven't blogged because I've been very focused on getting things done. This past weekend was a check-list weekend. Finish freelance copyediting job. Check. Buy maternity dress that's fancy enough for a wedding. Check. Write first draft of freelance book review. Check. Go to yoga. Check. Take a swim. Check. Start reading library book that's due back soon (Cooking for Mr. Latte). Check. Finish knitting pieces of baby sweater that need to be done for final knitting class on Monday night. Check.
Of course, there's always time to add a few things to the list. This weekend, it was Panic about Impending Arrival of Brown Brown. Um, check! In precisely 4 1/2 to 9 1/2 weeks (does life get anymore precise than that?), Brown Brown will be appearing at our front door wanting a place to sleep, clean diapers, and all sorts of other things that apparently babies require. As I finished freelancing, I thought, "Hmm, I wonder what still needs to be done for the baby." I wandered into the nursery and--gasp!--realized everything still needs to be done. This is our nursery. Do you see anything missing? Like, furniture? Clothes? Diapers? Toys?
Yes, the baby's room is bare. The one crib that both Adam and I loved apparently is the most popular one at Babies R Us and has been out of stock for weeks now (so much for us being hip and independent--really, we just run with the masses). I'm paralyzed over whether we need a hi-low dresser or just an ordinary dresser (I know, ordinary dresser, but the ordinary dressers don't have all the safety features, such as rounded corners, drawers that don't pull out all the way, and all these other things that I had never for a moment considered before). I have no idea how to make storage work in this room with the low-dormered ceiling. Did you know that you're supposed to launder a baby's clothing before he wears it? And in special nonallergenic detergent? Neither did I! (And if you answered yes to that, then go away. I don't want you reading my blog.) I've been very focused on this pregnancy thing, but apparently, you're supposed to also be preparing for the delivery of the baby and for bringing the baby home. Who knew?
So, what's a sheep-like, conformist, hormone-mad woman to do? Why, drag her husband to Pottery Barn Kids to stock up for the room. Sigh. We still don't have a crib for Brown Brown to sleep in (but, hey, we won't need one right away--he'll use the cosleeper, which we actually already bought!, for the first couple of months), but we do have an adorable mobile to hang over it, beautiful sheets and a fleece, a lovely valance for the window, a cute-as-can-be nightlight, a soft book to use as a wall hanging (nonpersonalized so don't think you can come over and get an early peek at the baby's name), and a gosh-darn-who-would-have-guessed-it nursery theme (which would be wild animals, if you haven't actually clicked through on any of those links). The crib bumper and the rug are on their way. All I can say is, thank goodness Adam's summer internship is a paying one.
I have to say, though, I think that many of the magical moods of me really have nothing to do with the hormones. I think it's more the sleepless nights and the haze of junk food I've been wandering around in. "Comfortable" is no longer a word in my vocabulary. Although Adam is under the misguided notion that we've just entered the third trimester, the fact is we've been there for a while, and I'm ready to be done with it. I won't chronicle the discomfort, but it's there, and Adam can't quite grasp the fact that the only thing that seems to alleviate the misery is Double Stuf Oreos. At my last doctor's appointment last Thursday (we're now up to seeing the doc every two weeks), I saw a nurse practioner. As you know, the baby is wedged in sideways, which is so less than pleasant. I said to her, "The baby can turn at any time, right?" She said, "Yes, but at some point the baby will run out of room and won't be able to turn." What? No one mentioned that to me! And sure enough, I check the sites, and see that the baby is supposed to assume the position by 34 weeks (the end of the eighth month). That's one week from Wednesday. Great. We've got a procrastinator on our hands. Or in my womb, as the case may be.
Anyway, things may be a little sparse around here as I buy diapers, finish the book review (and conduct/write an interview to go with it), wash baby clothes, take childbirth classes (this weekend) and breastfeeding classes (next week--who knew you needed a whole class on something that's supposed to be so natural?), decorate the room, and generally go into panic mode. But I'll make up for it. I always do.
Maybe it's my excuse for not blogging so much lately. I've forgotten everything I want to say. But really, that's not it. I haven't blogged because I've been very focused on getting things done. This past weekend was a check-list weekend. Finish freelance copyediting job. Check. Buy maternity dress that's fancy enough for a wedding. Check. Write first draft of freelance book review. Check. Go to yoga. Check. Take a swim. Check. Start reading library book that's due back soon (Cooking for Mr. Latte). Check. Finish knitting pieces of baby sweater that need to be done for final knitting class on Monday night. Check.
Of course, there's always time to add a few things to the list. This weekend, it was Panic about Impending Arrival of Brown Brown. Um, check! In precisely 4 1/2 to 9 1/2 weeks (does life get anymore precise than that?), Brown Brown will be appearing at our front door wanting a place to sleep, clean diapers, and all sorts of other things that apparently babies require. As I finished freelancing, I thought, "Hmm, I wonder what still needs to be done for the baby." I wandered into the nursery and--gasp!--realized everything still needs to be done. This is our nursery. Do you see anything missing? Like, furniture? Clothes? Diapers? Toys?
Yes, the baby's room is bare. The one crib that both Adam and I loved apparently is the most popular one at Babies R Us and has been out of stock for weeks now (so much for us being hip and independent--really, we just run with the masses). I'm paralyzed over whether we need a hi-low dresser or just an ordinary dresser (I know, ordinary dresser, but the ordinary dressers don't have all the safety features, such as rounded corners, drawers that don't pull out all the way, and all these other things that I had never for a moment considered before). I have no idea how to make storage work in this room with the low-dormered ceiling. Did you know that you're supposed to launder a baby's clothing before he wears it? And in special nonallergenic detergent? Neither did I! (And if you answered yes to that, then go away. I don't want you reading my blog.) I've been very focused on this pregnancy thing, but apparently, you're supposed to also be preparing for the delivery of the baby and for bringing the baby home. Who knew?
So, what's a sheep-like, conformist, hormone-mad woman to do? Why, drag her husband to Pottery Barn Kids to stock up for the room. Sigh. We still don't have a crib for Brown Brown to sleep in (but, hey, we won't need one right away--he'll use the cosleeper, which we actually already bought!, for the first couple of months), but we do have an adorable mobile to hang over it, beautiful sheets and a fleece, a lovely valance for the window, a cute-as-can-be nightlight, a soft book to use as a wall hanging (nonpersonalized so don't think you can come over and get an early peek at the baby's name), and a gosh-darn-who-would-have-guessed-it nursery theme (which would be wild animals, if you haven't actually clicked through on any of those links). The crib bumper and the rug are on their way. All I can say is, thank goodness Adam's summer internship is a paying one.
I have to say, though, I think that many of the magical moods of me really have nothing to do with the hormones. I think it's more the sleepless nights and the haze of junk food I've been wandering around in. "Comfortable" is no longer a word in my vocabulary. Although Adam is under the misguided notion that we've just entered the third trimester, the fact is we've been there for a while, and I'm ready to be done with it. I won't chronicle the discomfort, but it's there, and Adam can't quite grasp the fact that the only thing that seems to alleviate the misery is Double Stuf Oreos. At my last doctor's appointment last Thursday (we're now up to seeing the doc every two weeks), I saw a nurse practioner. As you know, the baby is wedged in sideways, which is so less than pleasant. I said to her, "The baby can turn at any time, right?" She said, "Yes, but at some point the baby will run out of room and won't be able to turn." What? No one mentioned that to me! And sure enough, I check the sites, and see that the baby is supposed to assume the position by 34 weeks (the end of the eighth month). That's one week from Wednesday. Great. We've got a procrastinator on our hands. Or in my womb, as the case may be.
Anyway, things may be a little sparse around here as I buy diapers, finish the book review (and conduct/write an interview to go with it), wash baby clothes, take childbirth classes (this weekend) and breastfeeding classes (next week--who knew you needed a whole class on something that's supposed to be so natural?), decorate the room, and generally go into panic mode. But I'll make up for it. I always do.
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