Apparently choosing baby furniture is a lot like getting a Christmas tree. It all looks small until you get it inside your house.
Or, in our case, even attempt to get it TO the house.
Without any baby stores in our area, Jerry and I had planned on selecting the crib, changing table and a dresser while we visited my hometown last weekend. Thinking back, I now know we were completely delusional that my CRV and his two-door Accord would fit all that furniture AND the stuff we got from the baby shower.
The second plan was to borrow a friend's full-size van and have my mom follow me back. But, of course, none of the pieces we selected were in stock. We paid and were told it would be seven to ten business days.
In the meantime, we devised a third plan: My mom would drive down with one of my brothers while Jerry and me are in Nebraska next week and drop it off. I made her a key to our front door and thought that was that.
Then the store called after two business days and said everything was in. So we devised a fourth plan: My mom and grandma would drive it down Thursday morning.
Only the boxes were so big they didn't fit into the van. The crib box alone could house the entire state of New York. And we got a chifferobe and changing table, too. So, after much sweating and swearing, my mom came to the realization that the only way to get everything to Pennsylvania without hacking it to bits with a chainsaw (as cathartic as that would've been), was to rent a truck. Although pricey, it still didn't come close to what the shipping costs on all three pieces would've been.
So, while I was at work last night, my mom arrived in a U-Haul with my grandma following behind in another car. Jerry and a friend were waiting to unload and lug everything upstairs.
I came home to find everyone asleep and a trail of little bits of styrofoam to the baby's room. There, the chifferobe and changing table, when placed end-to-end clears the door by about, oh, one inch -- give or take a millimeter.
I couldn't believe it. The furniture looked so small and dainty and cute in the big warehouse. In fact, it seemed downright dollhouse worthy. Now that it's in our house, it looks huge. Big enough to make me question why we thought we needed both big pieces in the first place.
But it's perfect. Absolutely perfect. Another inch of width on either piece and I'd be cursing the heavens, but fortunately, that's not the case.
This morning I was able to thank my mom and grandma by running to the grocery store and getting English muffins for breakfast. My mom vacuumed while I was gone despite my insistence that she not. And although I begged them to stay, I knew they both had things to do back home this afternoon. So I loaded them up with a bunch of pears off our tree and waived them off using Toby's paw as he sat in my arms.
I honestly don't know how any expectant parents could possibly do all of this alone. Jerry and I are so thankful to have such supportive families.
I guess love is a lot like a Christmas tree, too. It might seem small until you need it. Then you realize just how big it really is.