Colombian Drug...

Yawn, slurp, yawn, slurp… That’s usually how my days start out as I stumble into the office with a cup of coffee in my hand and wiping sleep from my eyes.  I think that getting just too few hours of sleep has become a national obsession and too often we are proud of making it on so few hours, but not today.  I am dragging like a turtle’s tail in quicksand and no matter the concoction I pour into my system; it’s not doing me any good.  Am I doomed to suffer this same fate in a few short months?

The number one complaint I hear from those already burdened with little ones is that I am destined for little to no sleep for the first few months.  Does this mean my life is about to turn upside down?  In a sense yes!

It seems like only yesterday that I was able to sustain myself over long periods of nocturnal bliss be it in celebrating the week’s end at the bars or simply staying up late with friends discussing the eternal non-sensical solutions to life’s difficult problems.  So how is it that I have spiraled so far from that ability to thrive off of underwhelming sleep?  Marriage.

You see, I believe I married a creature that can only be partly explained if you understand the story of Rip Van Winkle.  As I understand it, whilst most little girls played with Barbie and other dolls, Shannon was mystified with the story of Mr. Van Winkle.  You see, Shannon is not a night creature nor is she really a daytime creature as she falls somewhere in between.  She is of the mindset that her best hours involve those precious few hours when she is awake versus normal waking hours for the dead.  After ten years of bliss with her, I believe I have picked up her propensity for lengthy nighttime paradise which has sent me on my downward spiral.

As of late, I have been getting up early in preparation for the early callings of the little one to either feed, change, or soothe back to sleep.  Ok, the only callings that are awakening me now are the callings, or baying, of our three dogs as they whine to go outside.  This pit stop during my sleep cycle is only one reason why the bags under my eyes are packed for a lengthy retreat.

 

These early mornings are not my only undoing; no it is the afternoons that wear on me like a suit of heavy lead.  After lunch, I am only able to pour myself back into my chair to await the closing bell like that of a prize fighter waiting on the 10^th round bell to ring.  So what I am to do?

Obviously, extra sleep is an option but then you run into that slippery slope of when you are getting just enough sleep or the dreadful and oftentimes worse option of oversleeping.  So that option may only work when I can set a relatively predictable schedule which I hear with children is impossible.  Another option would be for me not to get up so early to “excuse” the dogs outside but I believe my flooring would be none too happy and neither would Shannon. 

Bah I say.  I think I’ll just stock up on that magical drug from Columbia and tackle this problem like any junky.  Two cups of coffee in the morning and I am only just beginning to feel that wonderful euphoric feeling and feining for more.  Is there a program at Betty Ford to solve my addiction?

Into the closet...

I have had the first run-in with something that I do not necessarily like about the baby.  What did he just say, you might ask but it’s okay it is nothing to do with our future bundle of joy herself but what she wears and her apparent lack of sympathy to her parents’ frustration of her closet’s inability to provide decent organization.

This weekend, we decided that we must do something with the clear lack of organization the nursery’s closet has in store for us.  Thanks to the builders and the previous owners, all we were left with for a closet system were two highly placed shelves and one lengthy closet bar for hanging clothing.  If I am supposed to read into the obscenely large amount of clothing that Shannon has decided to purchase for our girl, then I must be able to foresee that the single closet bar would quickly become as useless as a boat in any of the current Texas lakes.

So in order to avoid the eventual extinction of any foreseeable organization within the nursery, Shannon and I moseyed on down to the local hardware store (Home Depot for those that care) to purchase the means in which to fix our quandary.  This adventure started off with good intentions but as things are, they quickly dissolved into lengthy discussions involving much head scratching and outright confusion. 

You see, we thought that developing an organizational diagram in our heads would surely suffice as a model for what we would need.  It was seemly obvious that our little girl would only have a limited need for shelving, drawers, and other such devices.  Quickly we soon figured that our plan was destined to failure once we gazed upon the hundreds of options in closet organization.

I never would have guessed that there would be such an abundance of shelving sizes, options, and what not that it would necessitate me writing a dissertation on “space management issues and concepts in the modern American home closet.”  We in our hour of hopelessness and utter despair must have looked as confused to the staff as turtles to a rodeo and as such we were peppered non-stop with questions on if we needed help or even transportation to the local mental care facility.  While I did consider their last request as an option out of my pickle, I ultimately decided not to accept such an offer as it would have left Shannon stranded and all alone at a time of great adversity (appealing though that is… Haha). 

After an hour of picking out the various features we would probably not use and loading our cart to an unsafe level, Shannon discovered a prepackaged box for small closet organization.  This kit consisted of the mounting brackets, shelving, and other odds and ends needed to complete the transformation.  We decided that since we will not be purchasing a dresser to put into the nursery that a four drawer system that hooks into the closet system would be the best decision to add as an addition to the closet system.  With our purchase complete and my wallet drained, we headed back home for the installation.

Never would I have guessed that a relatively straight forward boxed system entail an entire afternoon of frustration and heavy cursing such as I encountered.  Luckily, I have read that our baby girl, up to that point, could not hear such frustrations and would only hear the innards of her momma.  Unless, her first words involve a diatribe about the closet’s mother and the unnatural way it was conceived, I can only assume that my rants went unheard by little forming ears.

Mistake number one in this whole ordeal was that I decided that we needed to keep the permanently installed closet shelves to hold anything of substantial weight and also to prevent me from completely dismantling drywall and the like as I tried to gently coax the shelf from its mooring.  As such, Shannon and I had the parameters under which we were supposed to work within.

After hours of dissatisfaction and disappointment, we were finally able to step back and view the monstrosity that we created.   What we did find out was that there is no rationale behind the various sizes and lengths of baby clothing articles and therefore my preconceived notion that all of her clothing would hang nicely in order went out the window. 

I can only hope that what we did will ensure successful organization without any additional help but only time will tell.  Baby girl, I do hope you’ll appreciate all that we have done for you thus far… if not, your Grandparents will surely be receiving you for an extended visit! (Okay not really…)

Pictures of the real closet are forthcoming.