First day on the nursery

So I’m completely over my crap mood, btw.  I was over it by the next morning.  I have to tell you, one of the most useful things I ever learned in this life was “just because you have a thought, doesn’t mean it’s your thought.”  Growing up as I did, I never learned nor understood just how much we as people (and women in particular) are affected by hormones and chemicals.  Sometime during my “I’m going to beat this depression” thing I discovered that hormones and chemicals can, in fact, make us think things that we’re not actually thinking.  Yes, ugly tuna fish sandwiches.  So even in the midst of my bitterness Saturday I knew it was almost entirely hormonal.  And based on the weird taste in my mouth, I believe this is true.  The next day despite almost no sleep I bounded out of bed and had a swell day.  So, there you go.

Speaking of the swell day, met my book club gals for brunch, one of whom recently had a baby, and I had to ask her the two big questions we had both had before she delivered – “so, do you have time to take a shower?” (in answer to the common myth that once you have a baby you “won’t even have time to take a shower”), and “Cry It Out vs. Rock To Sleep" (her baby is too little for this one yet – although so far she seems to be a good sleeper).  My friend assures me that yes, she does, in fact, have time to take a shower.  So that’s a relief.  And just for the record I have no intention of putting my baby down and shutting the door while he screams his lungs out in an attempt to get him to “self-soothe”.  But I have to say most parents I know admit that at some point you do have to insist on bed time and put the baby (or small child) down whether they want it or not, which I guess could be considered a version of Cry It Out.  I don’t know what the answer is, but I suppose this is just one of those case-by-case scenarios.

So here is a picture of me Saturday night at my gig in my fabulous 40s maternity outfit.  It makes me look HUGE, as if I’m about to deliver tomorrow.  The term “Omar the Tentmaker” comes to mind.  The actual label on the outfit is a super creepy “Welcome, Stranger” which also happens to be the title of a very sick short story I wrote years ago about a woman who accidentally smothers her sister’s baby.  This fact, however, did not make me not buy the outfit.  It’s pretty much going to be my standard gig outfit for the next six months (although I discovered with horror I’m already on the largest setting for the skirt, so I may outgrow at least the skirt part fairly soon.  Should be good for New Year’s, though).

After positively months of searching I at last found a perfect 40s baby buggy on ebay and bought it last night.  It had to have the magical combination of a) clean, not rusted or otherwise hazardous, b) functional, folds down, and c) local pick up, since often shipping these costs upwards of $100.  Again, I may never even use this buggy, but I still feel compelled to have one really fantastic vintage item even if it never ends up being anything but an heirloom.  I intend on having a modern one as well for practical purposes.  I also found a good high chair I’m going to bid on shortly.  This one had to be a) again, clean, not rusted, and fully functional, and b) red.  And again, may not end up using it.  But it sure will look cute in my kitchen.  Pictures to follow when these things arrive.

Yesterday one of my book club gals came over to help me paint the nursery.  We knocked it out in no time.  It’s funny how you don’t realize how messed up your walls are until you’re right up next to them – my walls, at least in that room, are a mess of non-flush angles and bumps and ancient earthquake damage.  My 106-year-old house, you’re showing your age, honey!  And when’s the last time a little kid lived here…?  Very curious about that. 

I have to admit the colors I picked came out a bit darker and more intense than I’d intended – I was picturing soft, muted, mid-century – but it’s cool.  I have no intention of re-doing all that, and again the room will probably only be that way for a year or so and then it’ll be all changed up.  So the whole area is temporary, and my son won’t really spend any time in there.  I’m just trying to make it cute and coordinated for my own entertainment, really.