So my parents came up to visit on Saturday, and when they arrived, I was in the middle of hemming the black-out curtains for the nursery. Now when I say “hem” I mean that I eyeballed the general length I wanted, cut off the bottom part, folded the cut side so it looked relatively straight, and used this strip of see-through magic fabric that turns into glue when ironed between two other pieces of fabric. (Yes, that’s how I roll. And it took me less than 30 minutes!)
My plan was to put these things aside and move to the living room to continue the visit. But my mother had other plans. Vastly different plans. Because you see, she’s having a granddaughter. And last time, she didn’t get to see the nursery until I was done with it. And although she never said anything at the time, from some of the comments she made, I’m thinking that bothered her. Just a wee bit. (ahem)
She wanted to see the bedding I picked out for the Peanut, and oohed and awed over it. Then she wanted to see the curtain panel I had bought. (Which is the same pattern as the bedding.) Then she wanted to see it hung. On the window. And I told her that I was going to cut the panel into two because I didn’t want to buy another one. But she still wanted to see it hung up. And then debated with me about how to cut it so it would look “right”. And then gasped that I was going to use the magic glue strip to do it all. And that I didn’t have a tape measure handy.
And then she took over.
Hubbs looked in and I just shrugged. The woman likes to do crafty things. To her, the curtain panels is an adventure! Something exciting! Something fun! To me, it’s a curtain panel. And I’m not shelling out money for another one. So whatever we come up with, as long as it looks decent (as in, it doesn’t look like I had a seizure while cutting it), I’m happy.
So after repeating that “I’m not buying another one” about a million times, she conceded that cutting the panels length-wise was best. And then she did it. And since I don’t have a sewing machine, she deigned it necessary to use the magic glue strip, which apparently is called “Stitch Witchery.”
And I gotta say, she did a good job. We now have two curtain panels up and hung along with the blackout curtain.
But she didn’t stop there. I was walking to the living room when she asked if we could put the crib together. “So I can see it.”
Now, I love my mother to bits, I really do. But she can be a bit like a snowball going down a mountain. For example, if its just her coming up for a visit? I have to be awake at 6 a.m. Because my doorbell will ring between 6:30 a.m. and 7:30 a.m. And she’ll stay until midnight (or later) or until I fall asleep on her. (Because she brought my dad and brother? They didn’t show up until after 1 p.m.)
And yes, my Hubbs is a very understanding man who deserves a medal.
But back to my analogy: Snowball down a mountain.
So now that the curtains are done, she wants to see the crib put together. So she enlists my dad and the three of us — after a short Internet break to look up directions — get it put together. And she clasps her hands together and is in raptures.
And then she wants the mattress put in it. And then she wants the bedding put on it. “So I can see it.” And I’m protesting because nothing is washed yet, and this means that I’m going to have to unmake this bed (which means pulling the mattress out of the crib) to get to it later and … “BUT I WANT TO SEE IT.” So I relent and give in to the cacophony of cooing. And then she wants to see the bumper on there too. And she’s incredulous that I don’t have a mobile. And then she wants a picture of her and me with the crib.
Why? I have no freaking idea. (Snowball down a mountain, people.)
And my dad is trying not to laugh and is rolling his eyes at me while she grins like the Cheshire Cat on Christmas morning and pulls me close. So I make a face for the first picture — which my dad loves — then straighten up and pose “nicely” for the second picture.
And then she wants to help me rearrange the furniture. And put together a bin system I bought at Target but haven’t had the chance to put together yet. And pull the glider into the room, because don’t I want to move it in here?
And … and … and …
We ended up stopping there to break for food. Then I was able to distract her away from the room for the rest of the day. OK, that’s a lie: Sean was able to distract her. He was playing hard to get the whole day and she was desperately trying to get him to come over and snuggle with her. Which he really wasn’t interested in — because he was more interested in playing and throwing balls and sprinting all over the house like he always does.
I tried closing the door to the nursery a couple times, but she was drawn back like a moth to a flame. She wanted to sort through all the baby clothes, and see the closet, and all other sorts of things after Sean went to sleep.
So now the nursery is halfway together. And I think I need a glass of milk.