Crib Notes on Crib Building

Checking off another item on the newborn prep bucket list, my wife and I put together the crib.  Trying to buy for the future, we bought a crib that converts to a twin-sized bed after spending $100 for the extra parts.  I just hope we can find the parts when our kid makes it to a real bed.  And if we can’t find the parts, then a sleeping bag on the floor would surely suffice.  It’s just like camping!

Thankfully the instructions weren’t written in the Wingdings font

We purchased a white DaVinci 4-in-1 crib.  Like all buyers we checked the reviews, found the price fair for our budget, and approved of the design touches like curved rails.  It also helped that we could buy its convertible rails at the same time so we wouldn’t have to worry about the company, brand, or model being unavailable in a few years.

Crib building is a teambuilding exercise

Twenty-four hours after finishing the build, the crib is still standing.  We finished with a surplus of four 3” bolts, but after checking the instructions it turns out the bolts were for the convertible parts.  It’d be nice if the instructions included a line assuring us that we’re supposed to have bolts left, instead of making us count them in the drawings.
 
Alas, there are much greater things to worry about than someone not testing the validity of their instructions before publication.  Onto the next nesting project!

VOCs Make Horizontal Lines Wavy, Man

With my wife on the other coast for a final week-long business trip before she’s grounded, it was on me to paint three bedrooms in our house. The same house whose keys we had received only four weeks earlier. And the same house whose floor is covered in furniture, papers, stuff, junk, canned goods, A/V wires, and cat toys. The mission was simple – paint the rooms so we can actually move into our new home – lungs be damned.

Because volatile organic compounds (VOCs) aren’t good for anyone, especially one who’s pregnant, I started my painting week with our bedroom so at the very least the most important room would be ready for her return. After dropping her off at SFO on Sunday, I started taping and cutting in at 1 pm. After dinner I started with the rollers and called it a night at 3 am; sort of forgetting that I’m not a stay-at-home dad yet. The bedroom walls were done and covered in Persian Melon. I was on schedule.

Straight lines are simply suggestions

After slogging through work on Monday, it was time to paint the baby’s room. I began painting our grand design – Palisades Park green for the bottom half of the wall, white basecoat line above, then a line of Poppy red, and then a line of Country Comfort yellow. The red line will have to wait until the other paint dries.  I went to sleep at 2 am and called in sick four hours later.

The in-house pregnant artist's look for the baby's room.  Never argue with a pregnant artist.

After an IV drip of coffee the next day, I started painting the living room in Wisteria and was thankful I only had three walls to cover. By 1130 pm the living room was done and my right hand felt numb from the repetitive stress of holding a portable paint bucket for three days. But at least I was going to sleep before the morning. I’m winning this game of life.

Phryne Fisher, a female inspector from the 1920s and our purple living room inspiration

Thursday brought the joy of peeling back painter’s tape in the bedroom to see what lay in my creation. There was total wall coverage and a few misplaced paint drops. That’s good. But there were shadows throughout. That’s bad. Putting my face next to the wall revealed unevenly rolled paint. Son of a #$#%!!!! I’m going to have to add another coat to the most important room that I thought was done. Good grief.

 

Brushing large spaces took longer than using the roller, but it left an even coat – the first time, every time

I decided to ignore the problem at hand and return to the baby's room.  I pulled the tape back to reveal yellow and green lines that were straight (enough); I was something less than a total painting failure.
 

 Stay between the lines, the lines are your friend...

I placed tape on the yellow line to mark the red line’s borders and began rocking a small brush. After a dripless coating I gave it 30 minutes to dry and removed the tape while it was still a little wet; at least that’s what I had read is what you should do when painting fine lines.

 

This is the last time I pull back tape from wet paint on a wall with an uneven surface

The wife came home the next day and triaged the casualties. Good news – we still loved the colors we picked. Bad news – I wasn’t done painting. One of the few remaining open weekends I have will be spent (still) awash in VOCs and ventilating fans. On Saturday I brushed another coat over my roller marks in our bedroom. On Sunday I delicately corrected the paint in the baby’s room with a flat brush. And on Monday my wife rose from another night on the couch and I left the guestroom to see my damage control work.

Today we give thanks to straight brushes – the great paint corrector

The bedroom paint was even, the baby’s room lines looked great, and the living room was ready for a Phryne Fisher episode. Commence moving furniture and making our house come together!

First Diaper Changing Hall of Shame

I didn’t grow up in a family full of newborns and toddlers.  My sister is four years older than me and we didn’t see our nephews early enough to break through the fourth wall of personal space that’s changing someone’s diaper.  I’ve only changed one diaper and I’m not exactly a natural.  Here's my tall tale of woe.

My wife’s nephew was all of two years old and visiting me and my wife.  My sister-in-law was at a local conference leaving me and my wife to babysit. No problem. We have twice the hands, twice the brains, and all the moxie needed to keep him alive for the next three hours.  Then my wife hurt her back trying to lift and twist him out of his car seat leaving me the only able bodied (not able minded) babysitter to manage the nephew.

I get all my life advice from Mr. Bean

An hour into our session it was time to change his diaper.  I’ve seen diapers changed on TV and in movies so I was prepared.

I placed him on the blanket and went to undo the diaper tabs only to be attacked by flailing feet the size of the my big toe.  With my wife’s encouragement, I grabbed his feet with one hand and undid the tabs to reveal the evidence of his digestion with my other hand.  By fate or the grace of whatever you believe in, my nephew had only peed. I tossed the diaper in the trash and wiped him clean.

I lifted his legs and placed a new diaper under him.  I connected both tabs and showed my wife my handiwork.  She laughed and laughed.

When I lifted my nephew the diaper slid down his legs. I brought him over to her and she properly fit the diaper, ready for the next absorbent challenge.

I had better figure out this diaper changing process unless I want to be awash in soiled clothes.  Despite the failed attempt with my nephew I like my chances, having a few thousand diaper changes in my future to practice and get it right.

My Future in Five Years? – Let’s Hope So

Walking among creatures that rose no higher than my thigh, I stepped in awe that we could have one of these infinitely energized mammals of our own.  I attended my (wife's) nephew's 5th birthday party.  We’re due in two months and I can only hope to add an entry to this blog about the planned chaos of our own five-year-old’s birthday party.

This was my first five-year-old birthday party since mine 29 years ago.  I don’t remember my party, but pictures show ice cream cake and what I must assume was an unending screamfest of laughter, fun, and tears when Geneva Convention sharing rules weren’t followed.  

At today’s gathering there were plenty of balls to shoot at the brand new basketball hoop, many bikes and scooters to ride around the backyard, enough pizza for the TMNTs, and the great energy absorber – a piñata.  From my untrained eye, this party was a smashing success where few tears were shed and general chaos was expected and encouraged properly. 

The controlled chaos of a five-year-old’s birthday party

Having read baby books about all of the motor skill milestones a child is supposed to reach in its first year, it was incredible to see how far us humans come in five years.  These kids were able to run; ride bicycles and scooters; catch, grab, and throw basketballs with (some) calibrated strength; and stuff their faces with pizza, cake, and juice.  On top of that, they mastered language to express themselves.  I can’t confirm, but I’m sure the majority knew when to go to the toilet too.

Five years feels like a long time from today.  It should feel like a long time because it’s five years away, but I’ve been told that raising a child makes time fly.  I can only hope that I’ll write that come June 2019.