This is the crib . . . we finally received our bedding set that we ordered. We are doing a black and white music theme for the nursery. We've got the changing table, too, but still need to get all the wall decorations.
Here is Steve putting together the swing that was a gift from my sister, Jessica.
Here is the finished product! I love this swing - it can swing from side to side or back to front. I didn't even know they made such things! Hopefully, Stephanie will like it, too.
Here's Steve putting the finishing touches on the stroller.Our house already looks like a baby resides here. There's baby gear all over the place. I guess I'd better go on and put up my crystal picture frames and vases and everything breakable.
Now, we seem to notice everything that is unsafe in the house. Steve is scoping out the best baby gates for our stairwells. He was sitting on one of the balconies one day and commented how he doesn't want the baby out there, because of the potential of her falling through the banister. I have this really crazy fear of her falling on the granite stairs that lead to the basement and busting her head wide open. We rarely lock the front door that leads into our house (we do lock the outside door that leads to the corridor to the front door) and now I'm paranoid about her walking right out the door - gotta lock that door from now on! I want to kill all the bees that seem to hover around the house, lest my baby gets stung. (No, I won't kill the bees, I know they are already disappearing.) The worry never ends, does it? At first, I just wanted to make it to the end of the first trimester. Then, I just wanted to make sure she was developmentally perfect. Now, I want to make it through delivery and I don't even want to think about all the other things that could happen once she is actually breathing on this earth. No, I imagine the worry must never end.
I have a new-found appreciation for my parents, and ALL parents, now. Now, please someone tell me why anyone decides to do this more than once . . .
Now, we seem to notice everything that is unsafe in the house. Steve is scoping out the best baby gates for our stairwells. He was sitting on one of the balconies one day and commented how he doesn't want the baby out there, because of the potential of her falling through the banister. I have this really crazy fear of her falling on the granite stairs that lead to the basement and busting her head wide open. We rarely lock the front door that leads into our house (we do lock the outside door that leads to the corridor to the front door) and now I'm paranoid about her walking right out the door - gotta lock that door from now on! I want to kill all the bees that seem to hover around the house, lest my baby gets stung. (No, I won't kill the bees, I know they are already disappearing.) The worry never ends, does it? At first, I just wanted to make it to the end of the first trimester. Then, I just wanted to make sure she was developmentally perfect. Now, I want to make it through delivery and I don't even want to think about all the other things that could happen once she is actually breathing on this earth. No, I imagine the worry must never end.
I have a new-found appreciation for my parents, and ALL parents, now. Now, please someone tell me why anyone decides to do this more than once . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment