Monday, April 25, 2005

ready to ride and glide

We had quite a successful weekend baby-preparation wise, and managed to grant Joe's parents' request that we pick out not only a carseat, but a rocking chair for the nursery as well. Behold:



We got the beige one. The blue one on the right was more expensive (It was the next model up), and the blue one to the left, though you probably can't tell from the picture, had this horrorshow "denim" upholstery that looked all scary and acid-washed '80s. What, no neon puffy paint logos?



Joe and Coop trying out the rocking chairs. (Actually, they're called "gliders" these days for some reason--I think it's because the actual rocking apparatus is different from that of traditional rocking chairs, to prevent the unplanned execution of toes and tails.) As you may be able to tell from the picture, the Chelsea Buy Buy Baby is a surprisingly large store by Manhattan real-estate standards. Also, I was giving the stink-eye to the bald guy all the way to the right in the back row, because he was sitting in the chair that I wanted to look at and would not get up for a very, very long time.



Finally, he left. This is the chair we got. It doesn't look like it, but it rocks. Or glides. Whatever. We like it because not only is it extremely comfortable, it actually looks like it could be a real piece of furniture, not just nursery furniture. So in the chance that we eventually move it to another room of the house, it won't scream "STOLEN FROM THE BABY'S ROOM!!"

So we bought the stuff, but we do not actually have any of the stuff in our house yet because we told them to deliver it all with the backordered bedroom set--you know, the crib and all. The bedroom set, which may or may not arrive before the baby is actually born. 14 to 16 weeks was the time frame we were quoted six weeks prior, when the order was placed, but you never know about these things.

Cal is getting super-strong these days, by the way. He was kicking me in the old gut earlier this evening, and I swear to god, you could see my whole abdominal wall bulge and deform with the force of his kung-fu moves. I will refrain from making "Alien" jokes, because that's just too easy--but suffice it to say that it's kind of scary.

Currently reading: "The Working Poor." Unfortunately, I didn't get to read it on my commute uptown today because I left it in the living room by accident. Oops.

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