The Big Nursery Purchase

When you think of a baby nursery, I can guarantee you don’t think of what we have in store for this little Joey. Currently, this second bedroom is Hubby’s office and ski storage area as well as a place for my photo albums, arts and crafts supplies, and a bulletin board where I hang random things I need to remember but never look at. Stuff sits precariously on a too-skinny bookshelf which, I just noticed, is propped up on the uneven carpet with a folded piece of paper. There’s also a crappy old, stained, sea-foam colored swivel chair from approximately 1983; I’m not sure how this got from New England to Colorado but I vaguely remember my father refusing to deal with it otherwise when helping us pack the U-Haul. We do have a small red-painted dresser salvaged from my parents’ flooded basement and passed on to us as cute little baby furniture. It’s been collecting cloth diapers and dust, but not much else as we cautiously navigate Baby #2’s potential imminence. Hub’s clothes, ski passes, important legal documents, coffee mugs, and other detritus litter the floor. About once a week I walk by and notice the mayhem, so I ask dear old Hubby if he is going to clean up “his room.” Sometimes he does. I suppose he’s saving a good cleaning for “some day” when we might actually get to use this second bedroom as, well, a second bedroom.

Exhibit A
(except ours has a baby-saving rim
around the edge because it's awesome)

I am starting to believe, a little, that that day will come. Exhibit A: the changing table I bought on craigslist. Yes, it is used, yes, it was only $50, yes, it is a combination dresser so if we don’t actually get to change poopy messes on it it won’t be so glaringly obvious and sad and lonely and can still be used as something…but a changing table it is. First, I wavered on going to check it out. Then, I wavered on buying it. When I finally bit the bullet, handing over the cash, I felt unexpectedly elated. I was making future plans! I even made the couple selling it load it into my car because I’m pregnant and pregnant ladies don’t have to lift stuff and get to make other people do it. Sure, it then sat in the corner of the room, facing the wrong way for a week and a half before we did anything with it, but yesterday, when we moved it and unloaded diaper-stockpile-madness onto it, we loved it. And even today I love it still. It’s scratched, and needs a pad and all kinds of accoutrements, but it’s there. That has to count for something, right?