Tuesday, July 3, 2007

What a difference a day makes

Sunday was one of those perfect days that you can't plan, but just sort of fall into place without effort, further adding to its awesomeness.

Jerry and I woke up strangely early, spent the morning playing with Toby, got ready and were out the door by the time we usually start to rub the sleep from our eyes on weekends. We spontaneously decided to spend the day shopping for a whole bunch of necessities (like toilet paper), running errands we had been putting off (like buying toilet paper), and rewarded ourselves with lunch someone else prepared. In between, we stopped at every furniture store in the area looking for a rocker for the nursery in hopes of avoiding what I discovered to be outrageous shipping costs. Like $350 to deliver one chair that costs $300. Seriously.

As I had suspected, the salesmen looked at me like I had requested an S&M black leather sex chair with metal studs that hangs from the ceiling. An upholstered rocker/glider? That's not a recliner? In something other than brown or black? IMPOSSIBLE! IT DOESN'T EXIST.

Then, inevitably, they walked us through their respective cavernous stores and gave a Vanna White arm sweep toward the lousy selection of overpriced, oversized gliders that would look out of place anywhere other than a nursing home common area.

Granted, when Jerry and I each sat down in one just to appease the first sales guy, I would be lying if I said it wasn't one of the most ridiculously comfortable chairs I've ever had the pleasure of resting my second set of cheeks in. When tie guy finally got the hint to leave us alone, Jerry and I actually considered placing the ugly contraption in our home.

Then, after browsing through the children's furniture section just for fun, we came back to see an old couple dressed as if it was the middle of winter, sitting in the exact chairs Jerry and I had just been in, nodding excitedly.

"Yeah, we just can't," I said.

"Agreed," Jerry said.

And that settled it.

After stocking up on a ridiculous amount of TP -- the mammoth, can't-believe-it-even-fits-in-the-holster jumbo rolls -- having a fantastic lunch, talking to every stranger who stopped to admire my belly and laughing at the lack of baby-friendly furniture in our area, we finally found it. The Chair.

It was an expensive baby boutique I had forgotten about. Everything is custom designed and made-to-order, but at the time, I didn't let the minute detail of price bother me. I had found The Chair. The perfect nursery chair with a variety of color and pattern swatches to choose from, including what the fabric gurus apparently refer to as 24/7 fabric that is durable enough for everyday use and can be cleaned with soap and water. It was as if God himself had led us to this chair. Jerry and I high-fived to celebrate and took a few swatches home to mull it over with our financial backer -- Jer's mom.

I capped off the night with a lengthy 10-hour work shift, but even though I was ready to curl up on the couch in the women's bathroom and hibernate, the good-vibes of the day carried me through.

Then there was Monday. The antithesis of Sunday. A day I wish I could've fast-forwarded through and avoided all of the things that went wrong. Like the breeze blowing through our house in a northeast direction instead of southwest.

Maybe it was lack of sleep. Maybe it was because it finally dawned on me that if we get The Chair, it means we won't be able to afford other things in the nursery. Like The Crib. Or maybe it was the fact that none of my underwear fits anymore.

Either way, everything pissed me off. Everything.

By the time Jerry got home from work that afternoon, I was a raging mess. He took the brunt of my fury as I stomped through the house complaining about anything and everything. That magazine? It's been sitting on the coffee table for days. WHY ISN'T IT WITH ALL THE OTHER MAGAZINES IN THE BATHROOM? And my hair? HAVE YOU SEEN MY HAIR? If I could find anything in this damn house like one of the 47 pairs of scissors we own, I would CHOP IT OFF. ALL OF IT.

It was a slow and steady build of instability. It started with me flipping out on a customer service representative over shipping costs that were more than the price of the actual item. Then it was the fact that I couldn't find one pair of underwear that fit comfortably over my growing rear end, not to mention my bras that are straining to function. Then the battery-operated clock in the vanity started to die. And my hair wouldn't stay up in my clip right. And the tears started to fall somewhere around the time I realized I have four more months of this pregnancy and none of my clothes will fit by then.

And Jerry did the exact wrong thing by standing in the doorway and staring at me with his mouth hanging open, probably in confused disbelief that this insane woman was someone he not only entered into a marriage with, but willingly.

So I yelled at him for being insensitive, told him to stop staring at me and shut the door in his face.

Later he joked that he came home to Hurricane Kelly and as he walked toward the eye of the storm, I chucked cows and tractors at his head. Not too far from the truth, actually.

The only thing that snapped me back into some semblance of reality was that I had to go to work -- mascara-stained eye smudges and all. My mom talked some sense into me during my commute by using phrases like, "It's okay" and "I understand." And all I could think was that I hope I inherited that gene when it comes to dealing with my own daughter.

A few minutes later, I was joking with my boss about my complete meltdown. Thankfully, she has a 2-year-old son at home and remembers the inexplicable outbursts that occasionally accompany pregnancy.

And before long, I was calling Jerry to apologize for chucking tractors at his head.

"Remember Sunday?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Sunday was nice."

"Much better than Monday."

"Agreed."

14 comments:

julie said...

I was wondering where you've been for two days. Sorry to hear about such a rotten Monday. Mondays are certainly a crummy way to spend 1/7 of our lives, aren't they?

But Sunday... remember Sunday? That was nice...

the smiling plainsman said...

"chucked cows and tractors at his head" You continue to have a fun and wonderfully descriptive way with words that leaves no doubt as to the atmosphere of a time and place.

Looks like you found THE Chair, even if you have to subsidize the cost; better than paying for shipping which adds nothing to the value of the furniture itself.

Even if you can't have "it all" a a good quality piece will be a continual small pleasure, not headache.

Have a fun, but safe Fourth, all!

melinda hale said...

I am so glad you found a chair you love - and didn't have to settle for whichever chair had the fewest cons!

Enjoy the holiday, and give yourself a sparkler for making it through Monday. And Jerry a sparkler for dodging tractors.... :)

Suzy said...

maybe I should rethink this whole wanting to get pg thing. I have fits like that now...not sure if Bud could handle them if they got worse!
I did chuckle at the "cows and tractors" though.

Janice said...

Aww sad about the chair... well, depending on how expensive it is compared to the $650 you would be paying for the other ones. Good luck!

Lioncloud said...

Here's my pregnancy meltdown story: I was pregnant with Vanessa and we had just moved to our new house in Pittsford. It was August and a billion degrees and Bob had just died. After a long day of cleaning and setting up the kitchen, I waddled (I was 6 months pregnant) out to my car and drove out of the driveway.

In my confused state, I pulled out right in front of another car. It was totally stupid and totally my fault. Nevertheless, my pregnancy hormone madness lifted my middle finger and flashed it at the completely innocent other driver. It was like watching someone else doing it, someone vindictive and insane and definitely not delicate, pregnant ME.

However, this other driver was not going to take my completely inappropriate behavior lying down. He swung around my car and parked sideays across the road so I couldn't drive around him. Then he got out of his car, walked over to me, spit on my window and began screaming at me.

I sat there in total shock and shame, knowing that all I could do was let him rage. I didn't dare get out and apologize...he was mad enough to punch me. Eventually he realized I was not going to confront him further and he spit one more time on my window and stalked off.

Later I recounted the story to my husband and sobbed while he looked at me with that "Who is this woman?" expression that you got from Jerry.

You're not alone, girl! If you're pregnant on completely in your right mind all the time, you aren't doing it right!

Glrr

Wendy said...

Could you find something out there...the prefect reasonably priced chair...and have someone bring it to you? I think you have mentioned you live somewhere in PA. We are only about 4 hours from PA and have always wanted to visit Philadelphia. And, we have a big vehicle. Find something and I will bring it to you. OR, could you get multi family member to go in together with ya'll on the chair. Then, the price might be more in your stratosphere. Target sometimes does free shipping when you purchase a minimum, if you are still interested in the striped chairs. I get the emails and can keep my eyes peeled.

Otherwise, I am sorry you had a crappy Monday. I think all Mondays are crappy.

Bekah said...

God Bless Jerry

Yay for the chair :)

Maria said...

I was wondering what happened to you!

frank the tank said...

what did you eat when you went out to lunch?

Ray said...

Awww, I'm sorry you had a meltdown but it happens & it's okay. And I'm sure that you will be just as understanding with your daughter, as your mother was with you.

$350.00 for a baby chair is an INSANE price but at least you found, "The Chair." ;0) I think it's crazy that with the "Baby Boom" of today that they don't have more baby furniture where you live. These people obviously need to get with the times! They'd make more money that way. Ha, with such the baby boom I've thought about opening up my own baby boutique. That would be nice.

Well take care, Kelly.

Tina P. said...

i love that you find humor in all of this!

pauline said...

I loved how you capitalized 'The Chair' as if it were the very chair that would cure cancer. And it will, I'm sure. ;]

Monday's always suck. Hope the forth is better to you =)

Katie said...

Where'd they updates go?