Saturday, September 08, 2007
A Moment of Silence, Please
I'm feeling a little bit sorry for myself tonight. And it's kind of a long story, but hey, you're used to that by now, so here we go.
My baby boy is turning three in November, and I'm having a hard time with that. He's the one I had the hardest recovery with -- he was an emergency c-section and may I never have to have another c-section as long as I live. Because of all I went through with him, he's very dear to me, not that he wouldn't be anyway because of just the cute, sweet spirit that he is.
Well, about a month ago, his crib broke. The screw that held the springs up stripped its threads and the springs fell down in that corner. My husband fixed it, and then the fix job broke. So he fixed it again, and night before last, it broke again. We knew we couldn't keep this up forever, so we decided it was time to replace the bed. But given that he's nearly three, we decided there wasn't a point in buying a new crib just to turn around and put him in a bed five minutes later.
So last night, we went looking for bunk beds and found a nice set at Big Lots. However, upon going to purchase, we found that they didn't have any in stock -- the one they had was a floor model only. They called up to the American Fork store and found that they had some in stock. At this point it was 8:30 and they closed at 9, so we hit the freeway and zoomed up there. We bought the bed and asked to pick it up the next day, as we were in the Prizm and everyone knows you can't put a bunk bed set in a Prizm. We also didn't want to buy it the next morning because the card we were putting it on only has my name on it, and I would have to send Matt by himself to pick it up, because we wouldn't have a babysitter the next morning, although we did that night. Capice?
Anyway -- we bought the bed and arranged to pick it up the next morning. We came home, measured the door of the van to make sure it would fit, and then Matt went to pick it up this morning. He gets home, unloads, and discovers that one of the pieces is broken. Well, we've dismantled the crib and thrown it in the Dumpster, so we really need that bed for tonight, right? He calls the store, they said come back and we'll replace it, so he takes off for American Fork (again -- this is three times, folks) He comes home with the right piece, starts assembling it. It's now 2:30 in the afternoon.
I left at 4:30 for some family functions, and got home around 8. He had just finished putting the beds together -- they led him a merry chase all afternoon. He went to bed just plain exhausted.
Now we get to why I'm sad (if all that isn't enough). The time came to put my baby to bed. I laid him down and got him all snuggled up with his blankets, and walked out and shut the door. Suddenly it hit me -- no one was in a crib. My baby, my baby!
Then he started to come out, and I ended up putting him back in around 25 times or so. He cried his little heart out there toward the end, but finally settled down to sleep. I'm sure that tomorrow night, it won't be as many as 25, but still, it will be a little sad.
So we've come to the end of an era at the Pinkston's. The crib is in the Dumpster. Now, don't get me wrong -- we are planning to have another one, but not for a little while. I'm mourning that this particular child is growing up. They all do that, you know -- and it stinks. It really, really stinks.
Oh, but one last thing -- in a couple of months we're going to get a bunkbed set to go in the other room. This time, we'll go to American Fork first, in the van, and we'll know exactly how to set it up. There's a lot to be said for experience.