And Baby Makes Three: Crib Drama

Dear Baby Girl,

The decision around your crib and changing table was one of your mother’s crazy, neurotic, indecisive, obsessive moments. This is exactly what I was talking about when I said that I am driving your father insane. I think he wants to murder me, yet feels incredible pity for me at the same time. It must be a difficult balance for him.

On our lovely Pittsburgh shopping spree, Dad and I picked out a crib and changing table at Pottery Barn. We were in the store, we had a discussion about which was best and why, and we came to a decision. It wasn’t the crib I had had in mind prior to walking into the store, but logic and reason diverted us to a different crib. White made more sense than weathered gray (I just have a bit of a weathered gray fetish). Your Nonna graciously footed the bill and everything was hunky dory.

Fast forward a few hours later. I am second guessing my decision to the “n”th degree. I often have this notorious habit, and your father hates it as he is a “once-it’s-done-it’s-done” type person. Would that I could be more like him. I suffered through much mental anguish, enlisted Aunt Joanne and Marielle’s opinions, softly broached the subject with your father who relinquished the decision to me, and decided to return to the weathered gray crib as that was the one I originally had in mind.

Fast forward to the next day. We got home from Pittsburgh, I went to Pottery Barn, paint samples in hand, held them up against the crib, and hemmed and hawed at the store by myself for a while before ultimately switching our order. Never mind that the gray crib was on back order until mid-September. I was determined.

Fast forward to the day after that. I painted a small section of your nursery with the colors that we picked. I tried to envision the entire room with the gray crib, and then the white. I pictured it with the rocking chair, the rug… the gray crib just wasn’t going to work. I called Pottery Barn, changed our order again and told your father not to let me think about it anymore. His response: “PLEASE tell me how I can do that Taylor, I’ve been trying to figure it out for years.”

So now you have a taste of how the rest of the renovation process is going. Dad calls me the “inspector” and every time I mosey on over to the work zone he’s like, “uh-oh, inspection is coming!” Honestly, it’s a stressful way to live life and I wish I could be more laid back about this sort of thing but I can’t. Maybe if you have a sibling things will be different (see picture above), but for now the crazy continues to haunt me. I also realize that this is a silly thing that doesn’t matter and that there are much more important things in life, but it is just one of those things I can’t get out of my head. I’ll chalk it up to being pregnant.

All of this being said, I am happy with the final decision. Now that the nursery is coming together I know that the white will be absolutely beautiful. I bought you a gorgeous chandelier and a rug that I love, and I think that it will be a room fit for a princess. I realize that the picturesque nursery may be more for me than you at this point, as babies don’t generally wield an opinion on such matters, but I think that by the time you are a toddler you will really appreciate it. I know that my childhood pink-walled, pink-carpeted room with triangle windows that my father built at my request was young Taylor’s personal oasis and sanctuary. I hope that you will love your room as much as I did mine.

Added bonus: the white crib and changing table will arrive today (NOT mid-September)! This gives your father peace of mind as now your nursery will be ready a couple months in advance verses a couple weeks (Dad hates “scramble” mode). Now I just need to pick a rocking chair…

Love,

Mom