Hee! Maybe I should set up some sort of automatic email list. "No baby today." "No baby today." And then, you know, in June: "FINALLY!"
Would you believe I've had things to do? And that my internet freedom has been severely compromised by, like, real work? Also, there's just not a whole lot to say when there is NO BABY YET.
Not that that has ever stopped me before.
Phillip and I have been trying to think of ways for the baby to sleep in our room without actually sleeping in our bed. I'm not so big on the cosleeping thing, mostly because I think I would be so afraid of squishing the baby it'd be impossible to shut my eyes. I looked at Moses baskets and that cosleeper thing and the plastic bassinets with all the ruffles (why all the ruffles?) and decided it was silly to spend all that money on something we probably wouldn't use for very long, and that the baby would grow out of quickly. So I called up my sister and asked her to haul what my mother calls "the six month crib" out of my parents' garage and drive it up here last weekend. The six month crib is a little mini crib that I apparently slept in, as well as my siblings and some of my cousins. Which means it is ancient, but it is free, and would probably fit in my bedroom.
So my sister drives up here Friday evening, calls and says she's left the crib in our entry way and she'll help me plant flowers on Saturday if she's not too
hungover tired from the party she's going to that night. I picked up Phillip after work and he walked into the house before I did. "Maggie," he said hesitantly, "I don't like this crib."
"Why?" I hollered from the garage, where my darling husband had left me to finagle all our bags and coats and groceries out of the backseat, how charming of him.
"It's dirty." Pause. "It's really old." Pause. "I don't want to put our baby in that thing."
I walked inside to see what he was complaining about. And while the six month crib is possibly old and dirty and Phillip will always be against giving our baby anything that didn't arrive home from the store within the last week, this was not the six month crib. This was the little doll bed my grandmother's godfather made for my mother when she was little. Which my mother still has. And which is large enough for a real baby, but very old and very dirty, as it has lived in a garage for FIFTY YEARS.
But it was impossible to shame my sister. "The other crib didn't fit," she explained.
"Oh, that makes sense," I said. "Decide which one is the six month crib based on which one fits in your car. Brilliant!"
We made her take it home and went back to figuring out where the baby would sleep if we didn't get the real crib in time. I was seriously considering a dresser drawer. And then? The people who never give me flowers gave me a pack and play. WHICH IS PERFECT!
We, I mean Phillip, set up the whole thing- bassinet attachment, changing table thing, mobile, white noise machine- and we marveled at what Americans can do with fifty-nine plastic parts and enough nylon and mesh for a six-person tent. I'd considered buying one of these myself, but it seemed gratuitous when we already had a crib and our house is too small to cart the thing up and down stairs. (And when your parents are planning to buy their own baby sleeping arrangements for their house, your inlaws have a crib and all of your friends have babies and heaps of baby gear already.) But the pack and play fits perfectly between the wall and my side of the bed. And with the bassinet attachment, all I have to do is sit up, lift the baby out, feed him and stick him back in. Perfect! After we set it up I just sat on the bed and beamed. I am such a dork.
And then I freaked out because 1) we have a place for the baby to sleep right away and 2) I am almost done at work and 3) there is nothing left to do except HAVE THE BABY and OH MY GOD.
Oh, I also ordered two sets of the Ultimate Crib Sheet and isn't that the smartest invention ever! I know this because I attempted to take the crib sheet off the crib and wash it (everything the baby owns has been washed, pressed, folded and laid neatly in lined drawers, I have become my underwear-ironing grandmother) and putting it back on was torture. There's no way I could change a crib sheet in the middle of the night. Stupid bumpers! So cute, so un-functional! But someone much smarter than me thought up the Ultimate Crib Sheet. All this baby stuff makes you so impressed with Innovation!
So yeah. We're just waiting around now. La la la. I spend a lot of time tracking who has already had their babies and who is just about to pop. Yesterday Phillip asked me what I was going to do next week when I am Unofficially and Blissfully Unemployed and I looked at him like he was speaking Swahili. "Clean," I said self-righteously. "Organize. Get things ready." But you know all I'll be doing is napping and catching up on TiVo. I am not ashamed to say I watched three episodes of Gilmore Girls last night, people. How come it took them this long to get good again? I CRIED at the end of the newest episode. REAL TEARS. But not as much as I intend to cry if Charla and Mirna win the Amazing Race next week, can you BELIEVE they're part of the final three?! ACK. (See, my priorities are clearly in order.)
Anyway, I'll keep you posted. You guys are as bad as my mom.