This past weekend, we decided it was time to build the second crib. Although the kids never physically assaulted each other while sharing a crib, Lisa did catch Andrew putting shaving cream in Emma's hand while tickling her nose with a feather.
Since my dad was still around, I had him help me out with the crib building. My dad is very handy and has a garage full of saws, hammers, and dead bodies. When I was in college, my dad made me this gigantic bed/loft for my apartment. The bed was on top, a large desk was in the center, and on opposite sides were these gigantic shelving units with sliding cabinets. In one of Al Gore's speeches, he mentioned that my dad destroyed 1% of the world's rainforests in order to build the bed/loft.
Ripping open the crib box revealed a multiple of slats, screws, and sideboards. I organized all of the pieces into neat little piles and we were ready to go! Most of the instructions were pretty straight-forward, but the pictures were on the small side. But no worries! How hard could putting together a crib be? The more pertinent question is how frustrating could putting together a crib be? The answer: VERY.
Screwing and pounding the pieces together was pretty easy, but the most difficult part was figuring out how to insert the side of the crib that goes up and down. I swear the instructions for this portion of the construction was an entire page. I read it over and over again, but just gave up and figured it must just be a matter of sliding a couple of pieces together. After several tries and mental curses (My mom was around. She likes her language as clean as everything else surrounding her.), my dad and I were able to put the perimeter of the crib together.
While doing all of this, my mom was providing delight color commentary like the following:
"Good thing Daddy here to help! Scotty wouldn't be able to do himself!"
"Scotty messed up again!"
"You doing it all wrong, Scotty!"
"Why you approaching me with a machete, Scotty?"
"Scotty messed up again!"
"You doing it all wrong, Scotty!"
"Why you approaching me with a machete, Scotty?"
Eventually, all we had left to do was slide the bottom drawer into the crib. After several attempts, I looked at the tiny diagrams in the instructions. I realized I screwed in the drawer rails upside down on the side of the crib.
"Scotty messed up!"
So I pushed myself under the crib, unscrewed, flip-flopped, and rescrewed. There! We tried once again to insert the bottom drawer. Still didn't work. I looked at the diagram again with fear. I realized the rails on the side of the drawer were on the wrong side.
This fix was more involved because we had to take apart the entire drawer in order to switch the sides of the drawer. I don't think I've screwed so much since Lisa and I were trying to have kids. And you know what that got us: screwed.
After this last correction, the drawer slid in perfectly and we were all done. The next job was for my mom which was to dust and wipe and clean every nook and cranny of the crib. Finally we rolled the crib into our bedroom and just waited for night to fall.
We were all intrigued to see how this would all pan out. Andrew and Emma have been sharing the same space since they were conceived. It's a pretty surreal thought to think the first time they had to share the same room was inside Lisa's vagina. Thankfully, Lisa's vagina is really large and they were able to accessorize the place nicely with a couple of throw rugs and lava lamps.
The sun went down, the kids got their baths, and it was time to test the separation. How would the kids react? Would they be confused? Would they be disoriented (meaning confused, not un-Asian)? Guess what? They didn't give a damn about it. We plopped them in the crib, kissed them, and they went to sleep.
That just reinforces to us that as parents we often project our own feelings and thoughts on our young ones. But sometimes the answer is a lot simpler: they're just babies. It's not that they're stupid (although sometimes they are) or not learning (although sometimes it seems like they're not learning a dang thing). It's just that babies are still trying to figure out this crazy world we're living in. And as adults, we're still sorting things out. I know I'm far from figuring out the world because my mom reminds me every time that I screw up.
"Scotty messed up again!"
This fix was more involved because we had to take apart the entire drawer in order to switch the sides of the drawer. I don't think I've screwed so much since Lisa and I were trying to have kids. And you know what that got us: screwed.
After this last correction, the drawer slid in perfectly and we were all done. The next job was for my mom which was to dust and wipe and clean every nook and cranny of the crib. Finally we rolled the crib into our bedroom and just waited for night to fall.
We were all intrigued to see how this would all pan out. Andrew and Emma have been sharing the same space since they were conceived. It's a pretty surreal thought to think the first time they had to share the same room was inside Lisa's vagina. Thankfully, Lisa's vagina is really large and they were able to accessorize the place nicely with a couple of throw rugs and lava lamps.
The sun went down, the kids got their baths, and it was time to test the separation. How would the kids react? Would they be confused? Would they be disoriented (meaning confused, not un-Asian)? Guess what? They didn't give a damn about it. We plopped them in the crib, kissed them, and they went to sleep.
That just reinforces to us that as parents we often project our own feelings and thoughts on our young ones. But sometimes the answer is a lot simpler: they're just babies. It's not that they're stupid (although sometimes they are) or not learning (although sometimes it seems like they're not learning a dang thing). It's just that babies are still trying to figure out this crazy world we're living in. And as adults, we're still sorting things out. I know I'm far from figuring out the world because my mom reminds me every time that I screw up.
No comments:
Post a Comment