If you are a Facebook follower of mine, you might have seen a few of my status updates weeks ago that discussed the excitement of putting together baby Sloane’s crib, followed by the intense frustration that came after the final screw could not be screwed in.
So, even though I had been beyond excited about finally having something ‘baby’ in the baby’s room, it was not meant to be that July evening.
Matt assured me that we would take the crib back the next night and get one that was not defective. So back we went to Babies-R-Us the next evening to return and re-purchase another crib. And back home we went. This time, we knew exactly how it needed to be together since we had spent the night before constructing the monstrosity.
We finally had a piece of baby furniture in the baby’s room!
After getting the crib set up in record time, I quietly surveyed the room and thought to myself, “OK… we have a crib. That was the first step. But that is about all we have, with the exception of the heirloom bassinet that has seen better days. Will my daughter have any clothing? Am I going to have to learn to construct baby clothes? Gee, I hope not…. I really need to vacuum in here… FOCUS, ALLYSON! There are more important things to be concerned about than the need to vacuum.”
Fast forward four weeks and two baby showers later.
My concerns are definitely starting to dwindle…
As you can see, I barely have enough room to walk around in this baby’s room that formerly had only a crib.
I now don’t go into convulsions thinking of what we need, but do go into convulsions thinking where the heck this stuff is suppose to go!
Unfortunately, her dresser has not been purchased yet and her closet is missing a clothes rod.
I feel that with the purchase of those two items, this room will actually start to take shape… and not look like it just got hit by a baby tornado!
But until then, I will continue to sit down in the middle of her floor, dig through the piles of clothing, diaper wipes, and hootie hiders and soak it all in …. because before long, this baby tornado of a room will have an occupant.
For the next 18 years of my life.
Good lord, I’m going to be a parent. Pardon me as I start to convulse… again.