"There's a look in your eyes that I've never seen before," B told me. "It looks like you've been plugged in."
Oh, labor. You have the oddest effects on us ladies.
I awoke a little after midnight on Friday, May 6, feeling some discomfort in my belly and lower back. "This could be it," I thought, and knowing that I likely had a long road ahead of me, I attempted to fall back asleep. Alas, sleep wouldn't come. I stayed in bed for another 45 minutes or so, trying not to time the contractions but realizing that they were closer together than I expected, 5 minutes apart or so. From what I learned at our childbirthing class, most first labors start with contractions that are spaced out further, 15 minutes or so.
I decided to get up around 1 AM. If this really was labor, I wanted to be prepared for it. If not, well, a shower and blown-out hairstyle never hurt anyone, even when they are undertaken in the middle of the night.
I hopped in the shower, hoping that the hot water would alleviate some of the pain. Nope! Nevertheless, I washed my hair and tried to linger in the hopes of distracting myself from the discomfort.
And then I blew out my hair and put on makeup. Appearances matter, even when one is about to have a child.
Ten days have passed, and it's already difficult to remember exactly what the pain felt like. I guess it's true that you really do forget. The pain in my stomach was sort of like severe diarrhea cramps, and the pain in my lower back was right around my tailbone. I'd say I felt the pain was evenly split between belly and back.
When a contraction started, I'd make my way to the foot of the stairs and crouch down on all fours, a position I learned in childbirthing class. It helps when you have back labor (labor pains in your back--it can be from a backwards baby or a confused brain sending the wrong signals).
When the contractions started getting more intense, around 2:30 AM, I went into our bedroom and told B, "You need to get up." I thought that maybe the sound of my shower would have woken him, but he was sound asleep. He asked if he had time to shower, and I said, yes, absolutely. First-time labors are always lengthy, and I planned to stay at home for as long as I could.
He showered while I continued walking around, sitting on my balance ball, kneeling in front of the couch, lying on my side, attempting any position to help with the pain. I also used the breathing technique I learned in childbirthing class--deep breath in through your nose and then deep breath out through your mouth. I know I mocked the breathing technique a little bit, but it really did help and was a helpful distraction.
B warmed up the heat wrap for me and helped apply it to my back during each contraction, and it helped a bit. He also rubbed my lower back during the contractions, another helpful tool (or at the very least, another distraction).
By the time B finished eating breakfast and drinking his coffee, contractions were still somewhat irregular but were mostly less than 3 minutes apart. The pain was getting intense, so we decided to call the doctor.
We left a message with the answering service and received a call back almost immediately from the doctor on call at the hospital. He said that it sounded like I was in active labor and asked what my strategy for pain management was. I told him that I wanted to let labor progress as far as it could and that I wanted to wait as long as I could, and then I'd get an epidural. He said that I could hang out at home for another hour or two and come to the hospital when I needed help with the pain. It sounded like a plan to me.
We stayed home for another hour or so, but then by 4:30, I decided it was time to head to the hospital. B packed up the car with our bags, the car seat, and the balance ball, and we were off.
I didn't realize how bumpy the road to the hospital was until I had to ride on it while in labor! Being confined in my seat during each contraction and not being able to move around was difficult, but I did my best to breath through each one and remind myself that we'd be there soon.
We arrived at the hospital, parked in the garage (Second floor! Stairs!), and entered through the ER. They directed us to an elevator; we took a wrong turn (neither of us was thinking straight), but luckily a nurse pointed us in the right direction before we went too far. Walking during a contraction was nearly impossible.
As we pulled into the garage, we saw another couple--the woman obviously in labor, too--enter the hospital just in front of us. She clearly had had a more difficult start to labor than I had. My doctor told me that I couldn't go to the hospital until I had tears running down my face from the pain, and I never reached that stage, but this poor girl did.
We saw them waiting outside the check-in room when we arrived. We checked in and were told to wait outside. I walked around between contractions--walking helps keep things moving--and knelt in front of a chair during each contraction. After a few minutes, a nurse came out and called my name. However, no one had come for the other woman, who was clearly in worse shape than I, so I told the kind-looking nurse to take the other woman instead, and that I could wait for the next available person.
My nurse came out a few minutes later. She seemed a bit less kind. Oh, well--she was one of 3 nurses that we had, due to shift changes, so she didn't stick around for long.
She seemed doubtful that I was actually in labor. She wanted to know how far dilated I was at my last appointment and seemed to think that I couldn't be in labor. She reluctantly took me into a large triage room with individual cubbies that had curtains for privacy. She gave me a gown and belly band to change into, and then I returned to the little cubby.
Moving around in the cubby was nearly impossible--not enough space, and who wants to walk with a johnnie hanging open behind them, anyway--but the excitement of being in the hospital helped distract me from my contractions. The belly band held monitors that checked my and the baby's heartbeat, and one of them had an unpleasant nub that dug into my stomach, so I had to keep readjusting it, and then it would stop picking up a heartbeat, and it had to be adjusted again, prolonging the monitoring phase.
After a little bit, a resident arrived to examine me. Everyone took my situation much more seriously when her exam revealed that I was 5 cm (10 cm means you're ready to push) dilated.
"You're going to have a baby today!" she said.
"When do I get a room?" I demanded.
"In the next hour or so," she said. But just a few minutes later, my nurse returned and took me to my room, where I had a little more privacy. (And when I say privacy, I mean privacy from other patients, not from hospital staff, as I can confirm that there is no privacy when one is birthing a baby.)
I had tested positive for some bacteria or other that 40% of people happen to be carrying around at any given time, so as soon as I got to my room, I had to get an IV with penicillin, further hampering my movements. Kneeling on a cold floor in a johnnie during contractions while trying not to impede my IV and monitoring wires was expectedly unpleasant. My mind started thinking thoughts of epidurals, but I tried to hold off as long as I could.
The nurse offered a drug that doesn't help with the pain but makes you feel a little drunk, but I passed, as I wanted to keep my wits about me. I was holding out for the real pain relief.
Eventually, the pain was too intense, and I was unable to breathe through it anymore. "Perhaps now would be a good time for an epidural," I said. The doctor's exam revealed that I was 6 cm dilated, a perfectly acceptable time for receiving pain relief. The anesthesiologist arrived quickly, and the insertion process took probably 15 minutes, and then I had to wait another 15 minutes or so for the pain relief to kick in. I think he was finished by 7:30 AM.
The anesthesiologist kept warning me about feeling bee stings and pressure, but I barely felt anything at all during the epidural insertion. I guess my mind had bigger pain to think about. An epidural consists of a catheter in your back that somehow makes all the pain go away. There is a button that can be pressed if you need more pain relief. (It came in handy later on.) The worst part of the epidural was its removal, as the anesthesiologist had put a huge piece of what felt like tape on my back and it had to be taken off. But that didn't happen for several more hours.
After the epidural kicked in, I had to lie on my side. My legs felt numb, sort of like the pins and needles feeling but without any pain, just delightful numbness. I could still feel each contraction, but it wasn't nearly as painful. The epidural did leave me shaky, a normal side effect that I was able to tolerate very easily.
I sent B off to get some food and tried to sleep. Sleep didn't happen, but resting with my eyes closed and not feeling any pain was lovely. Around 9:00, another exam revealed that I was at 9 cm. "Already?" I thought. I was not mentally prepared to push. At 9:45, another doctor came in, did an exam, and said that I was fully dilated and ready to go. She took what looked like a crochet needle and broke my water (painless), which ran clear (a good sign--big smiles from all the hospital staff), and then left me with the nurse.
The nurse asked if I felt like I had to push yet. I said I didn't know what that meant. She said it feels like you have to use the bathroom. I said, no, not yet, so we waited for another 10 minutes, and then I decided it was time to get the party started, so I started pushing a little after 10 AM.
The first 45 minutes or so of pushing was a bit anticlimactic. My contractions were spaced out pretty far apart, and it is possible that I was not giving the activity my full effort. I sort of wanted to see whether my full effort was really required.
As it turns out, it was. Eventually the doctor showed up, around the same time that the contractions were getting really intense, as painful as they were before the epidural. This part of the experience is a bit fuzzy. I kept looking at the clock and seeing time pass, all while feeling this enormous, crushing pressure in my abdomen. My third nurse, about as nice as the first, didn't want to give me another shot of the epidural because I was so close, but as things progressed and I was clearly struggling, the doctor told her to give it to me. I'm not sure if it kicked in, but it gave me the mental fortitude to keep going.
Around 11:30, I asked the doctor how much longer this was going to be, as I was not having fun and really wanted to get the whole ordeal over with. She said that if I pushed really hard, I could be finished in 30 minutes.
I took that as a challenge. She ordered some pitocin to make my contractions come more often, and I kicked my pushing effort into a higher gear. Within 15 minutes, our little Rooster entered the world, and the most severe pain was over.
Everything that happened next is fuzzy. I saw Rooster come out, and he was kind of slimy looking and gray (so not the romantic view of things, but it's true). The hospital staff got him crying (crying in a newborn is a good sign) and he got some color to him. I remember holding him for a little bit, and then the staff took him away for various tests and other activities while the doctors turned their attention to me.
There were a lot of stitches and a clot that had to be dealt with. I won't provide any more details, but moving around was very difficult for several days, and today is the first day that I have not had to take Motrin. It was one of many unexpected results of this whole baby thing.
Because of my late epidural shot, I had the shakies and had to stay in bed for another hour and a half or so until its effects wore off. B ordered lunch for us--I expected that I'd be ravenous afterwards, but I was somewhat unenthusiastic about food still--and then the nurse took me to the bathroom for a tutorial on how to use the bathroom for the next couple weeks. Again, I will not share details, but I will say that I was not mentally prepared for the physical damage of pushing a baby out.
Next I got into a wheelchair, and we rolled to the room where we'd be sleeping for the next two nights. It was much more spacious than some of the others (I think my post-delivery complications helped score us a bigger room, one positive result...). It had a private bathroom that was very poorly planned (no shelving!) and a few chairs and tables, including one horrible chair that converted into a "bed" for B. He was in pain for days afterward...
There is obviously much more to tell, but it has taken me 3 days to complete this posting, so I am just going to post it and continue on with my story when I have some free time.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Upping the efficiency ante
In the last couple months, we've made a few purchases that have significantly improved our lives.
Roomba vacuum
Neither of us likes to vacuum, but with a little one on the way, we need to have clean floors all the time. I considered my options and came up with a few ideas:
1. Vacuum more.
2. Hire a cleaning service.
3. Buy a Roomba.
I was able to dismiss Option 1 immediately.
Option 2 would provide many benefits other than clean carpets, but now is not the time to take on another considerable monthly expense.
Option 3 costs about the same as a month's worth of house cleaning--not cheap--but a Roomba comes with a yearlong warranty, so we can assume that we can enjoy the benefits of the Roomba for at least a year. Plus one of the benefits of a cleaning service is that it inspires you to neaten up for them, and a Roomba offers the same motivation because you don't want to run a vacuum when your shoes are littering the floor.
Our Roomba arrived a few weeks ago and seemed pretty easy to set up. (B did it.) The biggest hassle is the need to clean it out after every vac. As B pointed out, you don't necessarily save time over traditional vacuuming, since the cleaning-out process can be time consuming, but the Roomba is appealing to people who would rather clean out smaller parts than push a vac around.
B uses one of those air cans to help clean the little guy out, and so far, Roomby is working like a champ. We ran it for the first time when we were home so we could figure out where he'd get stuck. It's a little noisy, no worse than a regular vacuum, but its cleaning cycle is about 30 minutes, a long time to listen to a vacuum, so now we run it as we walk out the door.
The Roomba is lightweight, so you can easily move it from floor to floor, set it off, and come back to nicely vacuumed carpets. It even leaves vacuum marks in the carpet.
The Roomba probably can't replace our regular vacuum, and I wouldn't recommend it for houses with pets unless you were willing to run it and clean it out every day, but we're very happy with the purchase and our always-clean carpets.
New toaster
We didn't have a toaster in my city apartment; there was no room in my bathtub-sized kitchen. After we bought our condo about 5 years ago, we ventured to Target in search of a toaster oven. There were shelves upon shelves of them, and I declared that I was willing to invest in the cheapest toaster oven they had and would consider upgrading to a better model later. Mr. Cheapy came home with us.
He rattled and ticked and wasn't very good at toasting or reheating, but he was easier and faster than the oven, so we stuck with him. He repaid our commitment to him by continuing to work despite the occasional conflagrations that resulted from heating pizza slices directly on the rack.
However, life is too short to have to keep an eye on your bagel to make sure that it does not become burned. I decided I was ready for a grownup toaster oven.
My cousin raved about her Breville Smart Oven, and Cook's Illustrated concurred, giving it their top rating among toaster ovens. I was sold. B, who is not a fan of depriving himself, either, agreed that we deserved a better toaster and ordered it.
We love it. It is surprisingly easy to use, considering its complex settings. The crumb tray is a breeze to empty. And our bagels are toasted the way that we want them to be, no supervision required.
One minor issue is the oven's size and weight. This appliance is made to live on a counter top, whereas our old toaster lived in the pantry and came out only when we needed it. However, the size is also a plus. It's an extension of your oven and can fit surprisingly large pans inside. And it preheats in just a couple minutes, saving time and energy when compared to your oven.
The other major downside is the price tag. The Smart Oven is not a cheap investment. Sure, you're saving some electricity from not using your oven, but are you saving that much electricity? Probably not. However, if you can justify the cost to yourself (or if you don't even feel the need to justify the expense), I recommend considering this oven for your kitchen.
Clothes lines
Great convenience can sometimes come at a low cost. Don't you love staying at a hotel and finding the convenient clothes line in the shower?
I do. I have a wooden drying rack from my college years, but the glue has worn out in several places, and it can't stand upright on its own anymore. With all the baby laundry we have ahead of us--including our crib linens that can't go in the dryer (argh), we needed a better drying solution.
B suggested the clothes lines that hotels feature, and I loved the idea. Hotel living at home? Sign me up!
We bought 2 retractable clothes lines, and B installed them in my shower in a snap. I washed a couple of bassinet sheets last week and was very pleased not to have to drag out that horrible drying rack.
There is one minor issue with installing the lines in the shower, though--you have to remember that you have items hanging in there before turning the shower on. Going forward, perhaps I ought to leave the curtain open when items are drying...
Roomba vacuum
Neither of us likes to vacuum, but with a little one on the way, we need to have clean floors all the time. I considered my options and came up with a few ideas:
1. Vacuum more.
2. Hire a cleaning service.
3. Buy a Roomba.
I was able to dismiss Option 1 immediately.
Option 2 would provide many benefits other than clean carpets, but now is not the time to take on another considerable monthly expense.
Option 3 costs about the same as a month's worth of house cleaning--not cheap--but a Roomba comes with a yearlong warranty, so we can assume that we can enjoy the benefits of the Roomba for at least a year. Plus one of the benefits of a cleaning service is that it inspires you to neaten up for them, and a Roomba offers the same motivation because you don't want to run a vacuum when your shoes are littering the floor.
Our Roomba arrived a few weeks ago and seemed pretty easy to set up. (B did it.) The biggest hassle is the need to clean it out after every vac. As B pointed out, you don't necessarily save time over traditional vacuuming, since the cleaning-out process can be time consuming, but the Roomba is appealing to people who would rather clean out smaller parts than push a vac around.
B uses one of those air cans to help clean the little guy out, and so far, Roomby is working like a champ. We ran it for the first time when we were home so we could figure out where he'd get stuck. It's a little noisy, no worse than a regular vacuum, but its cleaning cycle is about 30 minutes, a long time to listen to a vacuum, so now we run it as we walk out the door.
The Roomba is lightweight, so you can easily move it from floor to floor, set it off, and come back to nicely vacuumed carpets. It even leaves vacuum marks in the carpet.
The Roomba probably can't replace our regular vacuum, and I wouldn't recommend it for houses with pets unless you were willing to run it and clean it out every day, but we're very happy with the purchase and our always-clean carpets.
New toaster
We didn't have a toaster in my city apartment; there was no room in my bathtub-sized kitchen. After we bought our condo about 5 years ago, we ventured to Target in search of a toaster oven. There were shelves upon shelves of them, and I declared that I was willing to invest in the cheapest toaster oven they had and would consider upgrading to a better model later. Mr. Cheapy came home with us.
He rattled and ticked and wasn't very good at toasting or reheating, but he was easier and faster than the oven, so we stuck with him. He repaid our commitment to him by continuing to work despite the occasional conflagrations that resulted from heating pizza slices directly on the rack.
However, life is too short to have to keep an eye on your bagel to make sure that it does not become burned. I decided I was ready for a grownup toaster oven.
My cousin raved about her Breville Smart Oven, and Cook's Illustrated concurred, giving it their top rating among toaster ovens. I was sold. B, who is not a fan of depriving himself, either, agreed that we deserved a better toaster and ordered it.
We love it. It is surprisingly easy to use, considering its complex settings. The crumb tray is a breeze to empty. And our bagels are toasted the way that we want them to be, no supervision required.
One minor issue is the oven's size and weight. This appliance is made to live on a counter top, whereas our old toaster lived in the pantry and came out only when we needed it. However, the size is also a plus. It's an extension of your oven and can fit surprisingly large pans inside. And it preheats in just a couple minutes, saving time and energy when compared to your oven.
The other major downside is the price tag. The Smart Oven is not a cheap investment. Sure, you're saving some electricity from not using your oven, but are you saving that much electricity? Probably not. However, if you can justify the cost to yourself (or if you don't even feel the need to justify the expense), I recommend considering this oven for your kitchen.
Clothes lines
Great convenience can sometimes come at a low cost. Don't you love staying at a hotel and finding the convenient clothes line in the shower?
I do. I have a wooden drying rack from my college years, but the glue has worn out in several places, and it can't stand upright on its own anymore. With all the baby laundry we have ahead of us--including our crib linens that can't go in the dryer (argh), we needed a better drying solution.
B suggested the clothes lines that hotels feature, and I loved the idea. Hotel living at home? Sign me up!
We bought 2 retractable clothes lines, and B installed them in my shower in a snap. I washed a couple of bassinet sheets last week and was very pleased not to have to drag out that horrible drying rack.
There is one minor issue with installing the lines in the shower, though--you have to remember that you have items hanging in there before turning the shower on. Going forward, perhaps I ought to leave the curtain open when items are drying...
Friday, April 8, 2011
Pregnancy essentials
We have another month or so (plus or minus 2 weeks) before we meet Rooster, and I thought I'd share a few items that have been essential for maintaining my sanity and comfort during my pregnancy. This list is short because I wanted to include only the items that I could not have lived without during this time.
Peace of mind essentials
My mother sent me a Consumer Reports shopping list, and I used it to create a checklist (ok, the document I created was a bit more complex than that) for shopping for Rooster. Most of the checklists in the freebie baby and pregnancy magazines that I've received from the doctor and from childbirthing class have been longer, more intimidating, and full of stuff you don't actually need right away. The CR list was clearly put together by someone who doesn't want to waste your time or money.
The second item in this category is difficult to categorize, but it comes down to getting your house in order in anticipation of your new arrival. Every weekend, we have a lengthy to-do list that we tackle. We accomplish many tasks, but the list does not seem to grow any shorter because I keep adding items to it. However, we're finally finishing chores and tasks that we've been ignoring for a while (in some cases, for years).
Sleeping essentials
I had a lot of trouble training myself to sleep on my side, and my Snoogle Total Body Pillow, a recommendation from my cousin, has made my nights so much better. It's shaped like a long C, and it allows me to sleep on either side. Before I committed to the Snoogle, I propped myself up with pillows, but after you dance the Snoogle dance, you realize that traditional pillows are far inferior. One note - you don't need the Snoogle until you have to start sleeping on your side (around the fifth or sixth month).
My second item is simple and inexpensive - a nightlight for the bathroom. You can expect multiple trips to the bathroom each night, and all that waking is difficult enough to overcome without having to deal with jarring and bright bathroom lights. Buy one as early as possible.
Finally, a humidifier has been invaluable. My congestion has improved since my second trimester, but I still wake up congested every morning without the humidifier. A note - the hot humidifier turns our bedroom into a bit of a sauna, which was great in January, when the room temperature fell below 60 degrees some nights. The sauna experience is a little less desirable in warmer months. A cold humidifier would have been a more flexible option.
Comfort essentials
My belly has been itchy since practically Day 1, and I don't know what I would have done without my Bella B Tummy Honey Butter. It's a little greasy, particularly if you use a lot, but it helps with the itching and has thus far helped me avoid stretch marks.
For the last trimester, I recommend a balance ball and a microwaveable (grain-filled) neck wrap. Both help with the upper-back pain that has become a hallmark of my third trimester.
Clothing essentials
If you're tall, you're going to have trouble finding maternity pants. Even if you're not tall, I can't recommend the Gap gBalance pants enough. They're comfortable and wash and dry well.
I also recommend a couple of cheap maternity tank tops--mine are from Old Navy--in black, white, and any other colors you like. They're great under loose and low-cut maternity tops.
Food essentials
Still no food cravings, but I have been snacking on Cheez-Its since almost day one. When morning sickness or hunger strikes, fight back with carbs!
Ice cream has been another essential food, though it's more of an evening than a daytime snack for me. And because you are supposed to eat extra calories each day anyway, it's a guilt-free experience!
There isn't much I will miss about being pregnant, but I will miss the guilt-free calories...
Peace of mind essentials
My mother sent me a Consumer Reports shopping list, and I used it to create a checklist (ok, the document I created was a bit more complex than that) for shopping for Rooster. Most of the checklists in the freebie baby and pregnancy magazines that I've received from the doctor and from childbirthing class have been longer, more intimidating, and full of stuff you don't actually need right away. The CR list was clearly put together by someone who doesn't want to waste your time or money.
The second item in this category is difficult to categorize, but it comes down to getting your house in order in anticipation of your new arrival. Every weekend, we have a lengthy to-do list that we tackle. We accomplish many tasks, but the list does not seem to grow any shorter because I keep adding items to it. However, we're finally finishing chores and tasks that we've been ignoring for a while (in some cases, for years).
Sleeping essentials
I had a lot of trouble training myself to sleep on my side, and my Snoogle Total Body Pillow, a recommendation from my cousin, has made my nights so much better. It's shaped like a long C, and it allows me to sleep on either side. Before I committed to the Snoogle, I propped myself up with pillows, but after you dance the Snoogle dance, you realize that traditional pillows are far inferior. One note - you don't need the Snoogle until you have to start sleeping on your side (around the fifth or sixth month).
My second item is simple and inexpensive - a nightlight for the bathroom. You can expect multiple trips to the bathroom each night, and all that waking is difficult enough to overcome without having to deal with jarring and bright bathroom lights. Buy one as early as possible.
Finally, a humidifier has been invaluable. My congestion has improved since my second trimester, but I still wake up congested every morning without the humidifier. A note - the hot humidifier turns our bedroom into a bit of a sauna, which was great in January, when the room temperature fell below 60 degrees some nights. The sauna experience is a little less desirable in warmer months. A cold humidifier would have been a more flexible option.
Comfort essentials
My belly has been itchy since practically Day 1, and I don't know what I would have done without my Bella B Tummy Honey Butter. It's a little greasy, particularly if you use a lot, but it helps with the itching and has thus far helped me avoid stretch marks.
For the last trimester, I recommend a balance ball and a microwaveable (grain-filled) neck wrap. Both help with the upper-back pain that has become a hallmark of my third trimester.
Clothing essentials
If you're tall, you're going to have trouble finding maternity pants. Even if you're not tall, I can't recommend the Gap gBalance pants enough. They're comfortable and wash and dry well.
I also recommend a couple of cheap maternity tank tops--mine are from Old Navy--in black, white, and any other colors you like. They're great under loose and low-cut maternity tops.
Food essentials
Still no food cravings, but I have been snacking on Cheez-Its since almost day one. When morning sickness or hunger strikes, fight back with carbs!
Ice cream has been another essential food, though it's more of an evening than a daytime snack for me. And because you are supposed to eat extra calories each day anyway, it's a guilt-free experience!
There isn't much I will miss about being pregnant, but I will miss the guilt-free calories...
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Estate planning
A couple years ago when we purchased life insurance, our financial advisor recommended that we also get wills. We agreed that we needed them but never quite got around to getting them. However, there's nothing like impending parenthood to jump start one's plans for the future, so now we're researching the estate-planning process.
We met with a lawyer last week to discuss the four components of an estate plan, and here's what we learned.
Wills
A will determines how one's assets are distributed in the event of one's passing.
When you're married, your will is straightforward: everything goes to your partner. It's nice to take into account what might happen if you both die together, but if you're gone, do you really care? Probably not, which is why we have avoided creating wills until now.
However, when children enter the picture, you have to care. If you both die together and leave your child or children behind, you can set up a living trust. More about that later.
You need to name an executor for your will. That person is in charge of filing the will at probate and collecting assets. Your spouse is typically the executor of your will, but you should come up with at least one backup. The law firm that creates your will can appoint a family member if the named executor is no longer around.
Living trust
A living trust, also known as a family trust or revocable trust (because it can be changed at any time) is used for the health, education, support, and maintenance of a child (or children) that you leave behind.
You have lots of options for setting up a trust, including imposing restrictions (such as no distributions for x years after marriage, or higher-education requirements, or specific amounts set aside for education). However, restrictions can be risky because you never know what might happen after you're gone.
Rather than imposing restrictions, most people write letters of intent so that others know their wishes for the distribution of the trust. The letter is not legally binding, however.
You can also specify when distributions happen. For many trusts, distributions are available in chunks at ages 25, 30, and 35. When the child reaches one of those ages, he can request distributions, and the person overseeing the trust is not allowed to say no.
You have to designate an overseer for the trust and several backups. You can appoint multiple overseers, but they have to reach agreement in order to pay out from the trust, and that can be risky. Typically, the overseer is in charge of managing the investments of the trust, but this task can also be handled by investment professionals.
You also have to designate a guardian of your children, in the event that something happens to both of you (not sure if this info is part of the will or the trust, but I'm guessing the former).
Medical proxy
This document allows someone to make health care decisions for you. The document is invoked only when a doctor says you cannot act on and communicate decisions.
You can create a personal wishes attachment for this document. The personal wishes are not legally binding, but they address situations with no hope of recovery. I expect that giving the plug-pulling order would be much easier when you have a document signed by the person telling you to do just that.
Your spouse is your medical proxy, but you should also come up with 2 backups.
Durable power of attorney
This document allows someone to sign for you and essentially be you with regard to financial and contractual matters. This document is invoked when you're alive but cannot make decisions, either because you're medically incapacitated or are for some reason unreachable (for instance, hiking the Appalachian mountains when something important comes up).
You can make the power of attorney a "springing" document, which means that it can be used only when you have legal proof that the person is unable to make decisions. This adds an unnecessary complication when you are giving these rights to your spouse, though.
You need 2 backups for this document, as well.
What you have to do to get all these documents
First of all, you have to set up an appointment with a lawyer, preferably one who specializes in estate law. They'll probably send you a questionnaire in which you list all your assets, debts, dependents, and other personal information.
Next, you have to prepare to say good-bye to some of your assets. These documents aren't cheap. However, I'm a proponent in investing in one's peace of mind, which these documents bring.
Our lawyer is going to draw up a proposal, and then we'll send her 1/3 of her fee and the information for our documents. Then she'll create the documents, collect the remaining fee, give us paper and electronic copies, and store the originals in the law firm's vault. The originals belong to us, and we can access them at any time and put them in a safety deposit box, if we prefer (I like the sound of the vault, though).
Our lawyer recommended revisiting the documents every 3 to 5 years, a great plan, assuming we remember. I'm writing it here now to ensure that I do...
If you don't have these documents, I highly recommend considering getting them. Even if you think a will and trust are unnecessary, a medical proxy is relevant to everyone over the age of 18.
Facing your mortality isn't easy or fun, but making life easier for those who remain behind is a worthwhile activity.
We met with a lawyer last week to discuss the four components of an estate plan, and here's what we learned.
Wills
A will determines how one's assets are distributed in the event of one's passing.
When you're married, your will is straightforward: everything goes to your partner. It's nice to take into account what might happen if you both die together, but if you're gone, do you really care? Probably not, which is why we have avoided creating wills until now.
However, when children enter the picture, you have to care. If you both die together and leave your child or children behind, you can set up a living trust. More about that later.
You need to name an executor for your will. That person is in charge of filing the will at probate and collecting assets. Your spouse is typically the executor of your will, but you should come up with at least one backup. The law firm that creates your will can appoint a family member if the named executor is no longer around.
Living trust
A living trust, also known as a family trust or revocable trust (because it can be changed at any time) is used for the health, education, support, and maintenance of a child (or children) that you leave behind.
You have lots of options for setting up a trust, including imposing restrictions (such as no distributions for x years after marriage, or higher-education requirements, or specific amounts set aside for education). However, restrictions can be risky because you never know what might happen after you're gone.
Rather than imposing restrictions, most people write letters of intent so that others know their wishes for the distribution of the trust. The letter is not legally binding, however.
You can also specify when distributions happen. For many trusts, distributions are available in chunks at ages 25, 30, and 35. When the child reaches one of those ages, he can request distributions, and the person overseeing the trust is not allowed to say no.
You have to designate an overseer for the trust and several backups. You can appoint multiple overseers, but they have to reach agreement in order to pay out from the trust, and that can be risky. Typically, the overseer is in charge of managing the investments of the trust, but this task can also be handled by investment professionals.
You also have to designate a guardian of your children, in the event that something happens to both of you (not sure if this info is part of the will or the trust, but I'm guessing the former).
Medical proxy
This document allows someone to make health care decisions for you. The document is invoked only when a doctor says you cannot act on and communicate decisions.
You can create a personal wishes attachment for this document. The personal wishes are not legally binding, but they address situations with no hope of recovery. I expect that giving the plug-pulling order would be much easier when you have a document signed by the person telling you to do just that.
Your spouse is your medical proxy, but you should also come up with 2 backups.
Durable power of attorney
This document allows someone to sign for you and essentially be you with regard to financial and contractual matters. This document is invoked when you're alive but cannot make decisions, either because you're medically incapacitated or are for some reason unreachable (for instance, hiking the Appalachian mountains when something important comes up).
You can make the power of attorney a "springing" document, which means that it can be used only when you have legal proof that the person is unable to make decisions. This adds an unnecessary complication when you are giving these rights to your spouse, though.
You need 2 backups for this document, as well.
What you have to do to get all these documents
First of all, you have to set up an appointment with a lawyer, preferably one who specializes in estate law. They'll probably send you a questionnaire in which you list all your assets, debts, dependents, and other personal information.
Next, you have to prepare to say good-bye to some of your assets. These documents aren't cheap. However, I'm a proponent in investing in one's peace of mind, which these documents bring.
Our lawyer is going to draw up a proposal, and then we'll send her 1/3 of her fee and the information for our documents. Then she'll create the documents, collect the remaining fee, give us paper and electronic copies, and store the originals in the law firm's vault. The originals belong to us, and we can access them at any time and put them in a safety deposit box, if we prefer (I like the sound of the vault, though).
Our lawyer recommended revisiting the documents every 3 to 5 years, a great plan, assuming we remember. I'm writing it here now to ensure that I do...
If you don't have these documents, I highly recommend considering getting them. Even if you think a will and trust are unnecessary, a medical proxy is relevant to everyone over the age of 18.
Facing your mortality isn't easy or fun, but making life easier for those who remain behind is a worthwhile activity.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Coming into the home stretch
My belly button continues to teeter on the edge of being an outtie. Heartburn strikes several nights per week at bedtime. Strangers freely ask me about my pregnancy--even when I'm wearing a jacket and think that maybe, just maybe, no one can tell.
Welcome to the home stretch of my pregnancy.
I now have to seriously consider whether squatting down is necessary, and if it is, who is going to help me stand up again. My toes have become particularly agile at picking things up. Dropping the razor in the shower? No problem. Dropping the razor in the shower and having the blade come off? Time to call it quits on shaving for the day.
I can no longer see the lower half of my belly unless I sit down and really stretch forward, or if I look in the mirror. For now, I am working under the assumption that all is well down there.
Rooster continues to be an active mover, roller, kicker, and hiccupper. When he's on the move, it looks like there's an alien moving around beneath my skin. He likes to push either his head or his bottom (tough to say) against the right side of my belly so that it sticks out. His kicks are increasingly aggressive. The other night, I was lying on my side in bed, and he was jumping on the bed and pushing his head up in the other direction. I tolerated this activity for as long as possible, and then I rolled over to my other side. Sorry, Rooster, but as long as you're inside me, I'm in charge.
His movement used to be gentle and somewhat soothing, but now it is mostly uncomfortable and wince-inducing. I feel a little like I'm being beat up from the inside. I know, I know...just wait till he wants to come out...
I'm avoiding thinking about that, for a few days more, at least until our all-day childbirth class this weekend. I know that it's a good idea to be prepared for childbirth, but part of me doesn't want to know what I'm in for. I am least looking forward to watching graphic videos of other women's birth experiences. I've seen those baby story TV shows on TLC, and they are graphic enough for me.
I'm trying to prepare for life with Rooster by reading books recommended by family and friends. I've read about hundreds of events for which a doctor is needed and twice as many events for which a doctor is not needed. How on earth can anyone keep all of this information straight? It doesn't help that every book offers different advice. Maybe figuring it out on our own would have been easier.
It seems that figuring it out on own own is how parenting goes, anyway. Of all the millions of books written on parenting and taking care of babies, not one is written about your very own human, so all you can do is keep trying until you figure out what works.
Welcome to the home stretch of my pregnancy.
I now have to seriously consider whether squatting down is necessary, and if it is, who is going to help me stand up again. My toes have become particularly agile at picking things up. Dropping the razor in the shower? No problem. Dropping the razor in the shower and having the blade come off? Time to call it quits on shaving for the day.
I can no longer see the lower half of my belly unless I sit down and really stretch forward, or if I look in the mirror. For now, I am working under the assumption that all is well down there.
Rooster continues to be an active mover, roller, kicker, and hiccupper. When he's on the move, it looks like there's an alien moving around beneath my skin. He likes to push either his head or his bottom (tough to say) against the right side of my belly so that it sticks out. His kicks are increasingly aggressive. The other night, I was lying on my side in bed, and he was jumping on the bed and pushing his head up in the other direction. I tolerated this activity for as long as possible, and then I rolled over to my other side. Sorry, Rooster, but as long as you're inside me, I'm in charge.
His movement used to be gentle and somewhat soothing, but now it is mostly uncomfortable and wince-inducing. I feel a little like I'm being beat up from the inside. I know, I know...just wait till he wants to come out...
I'm avoiding thinking about that, for a few days more, at least until our all-day childbirth class this weekend. I know that it's a good idea to be prepared for childbirth, but part of me doesn't want to know what I'm in for. I am least looking forward to watching graphic videos of other women's birth experiences. I've seen those baby story TV shows on TLC, and they are graphic enough for me.
I'm trying to prepare for life with Rooster by reading books recommended by family and friends. I've read about hundreds of events for which a doctor is needed and twice as many events for which a doctor is not needed. How on earth can anyone keep all of this information straight? It doesn't help that every book offers different advice. Maybe figuring it out on our own would have been easier.
It seems that figuring it out on own own is how parenting goes, anyway. Of all the millions of books written on parenting and taking care of babies, not one is written about your very own human, so all you can do is keep trying until you figure out what works.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Lessons learned from a mortgage refinance
You might remember that we started the mortgage refinancing process back in August. I said that I would provide an update and share my lessons learned, and I never did, but only because I didn't have an update. The sad truth is that we just closed on our mortgage refinance this week.
That's right. August to March is a 7-month process. To put this in perspective, we started the process before I was pregnant (or at least before we knew I was pregnant), and I am about 8.5 weeks from my due date. It should not take the same amount of time to refinance a mortgage and grow a new human...but it did.
So, here we go. Lessons learned. Neglect and incompetence on the part of the bank were the general themes of the process. They asked for documents in November. We sent them a link and offered to mail the docs, and they never asked for paper copies or acknowledged receiving it. They never acknowledged anything we sent, so we assumed all was well. Then they asked for the same docs in February. We sent the same link with a friendly reminder that we sent them the docs four months ago, and here they were again. They said they couldn't access the docs online and we had 36 hours to mail or fax the docs or the mortgage refinance would be cancelled.
The docs were too big to email (a fact that we noted in both emails about them), neither of us was able to get to the post office in time, and we don't have a fax machine. However, I came up with a solution that allowed us to make the deadline and had the potential to be very annoying to our incompetent mortgage processor, a double win. I split the documents into 1-page PDFs and emailed them individually.
Yes, this process took a long time and was annoying, as I had to create about 85 documents and then send 85 emails. But the thought of leaving our mortgage processor with a full mailbox and maybe even a paralyzed computer as all the emails arrived was enough motivation to keep me going.
When he first made his demand, I might have sent an email response that was more heated than what one would expect from me. I almost certainly used my go-to phrase in times of duress, "This is unacceptable!" I might have thrown out words such as "incompetent" and "unreasonable" in an accusatory kind of way. Such tactics are not the best way to win people over, and in hindsight, perhaps I ought to have tempered myself.
Or not! Because we actually had forward progress on our refinance after they received the docs. Sure, they tried to put up another roadblock, demanding additional docs, but B was able to track down the PDF copies of them from our town's website (thank goodness for modern technology).
Several more weeks passed, and then early this week, I received a call from the guy who locked our rate. He explained that (despite all evidence to the contrary) the bank really wanted to close the mortgage. However, all the delays meant that they owed money to Freddie Mac because they weren't able to close the deal in the time allotted. They very generously (sniff) offered to pay half the fee, but they expected us to cough up the other half, about $700.
This put us in a very difficult situation. First of all, our amazing rate is long gone and will probably never return in my lifetime. Secondly, if we were to start the refinancing process over again, we'd have to pay over $300 to lock a new and higher rate and pay for a credit check, plus we'd be paying our current high mortgage interest each month while we waited for the loan to close.
I asked whether there was an appeal process, as we had responded to all requests in a timely way, so therefore, the delay was not our fault. He said we could appeal, but we'd be taken out of the queue that we were in and put in another queue. The appeal could take 30 days, and there were 3 possible results: the bank could cancel the loan entirely, they could deny the appeal (and then we'd owe about twice as much for the extra delay), or they could approve the appeal.
What could we do? I agreed to pay the fee. I am contemplating using the small-claims courts as my own personal appeal, but first I will have to do further research to determine if I have a case.
While I had him on the phone, I asked for the closing costs, which he gave me. Incidentally, they didn't match the actual costs on the docs we signed. Details, details.
I asked if we could bring a check to cover the closing costs. He said that any modifications would only delay the process. Again, all I could do was say ok and go along with it.
Although we weren't allowed to pay any closing costs, he said we were required to bring the $700 fee to the closing. He couldn't give me the exact amount and said we'd have to wait for a phone call on the day of the closing to get the number. Around 3 PM that day (after B had called and emailed everyone we knew at the bank trying to get the number), we received a phone call and email saying that we didn't have to bring any money to the closing and would in fact be receiving a check back from them. For what, we don't know.
For our closing, which took place at our house, a lawyer arrived with the docs. We signed them all, handed them back, and then it was over.
On the one hand, we feel as if we ought to celebrate. But the process was so long and horrible that we just want to feel grateful for our new rate and try to forget the drama that we went through to get it.
Now that we've got our mortgage finished, it's time to move on to other adulty tasks, including setting up a living trust, getting wills, and starting a 529 plan for the Rooster. Let the excitement begin.
That's right. August to March is a 7-month process. To put this in perspective, we started the process before I was pregnant (or at least before we knew I was pregnant), and I am about 8.5 weeks from my due date. It should not take the same amount of time to refinance a mortgage and grow a new human...but it did.
So, here we go. Lessons learned. Neglect and incompetence on the part of the bank were the general themes of the process. They asked for documents in November. We sent them a link and offered to mail the docs, and they never asked for paper copies or acknowledged receiving it. They never acknowledged anything we sent, so we assumed all was well. Then they asked for the same docs in February. We sent the same link with a friendly reminder that we sent them the docs four months ago, and here they were again. They said they couldn't access the docs online and we had 36 hours to mail or fax the docs or the mortgage refinance would be cancelled.
The docs were too big to email (a fact that we noted in both emails about them), neither of us was able to get to the post office in time, and we don't have a fax machine. However, I came up with a solution that allowed us to make the deadline and had the potential to be very annoying to our incompetent mortgage processor, a double win. I split the documents into 1-page PDFs and emailed them individually.
Yes, this process took a long time and was annoying, as I had to create about 85 documents and then send 85 emails. But the thought of leaving our mortgage processor with a full mailbox and maybe even a paralyzed computer as all the emails arrived was enough motivation to keep me going.
When he first made his demand, I might have sent an email response that was more heated than what one would expect from me. I almost certainly used my go-to phrase in times of duress, "This is unacceptable!" I might have thrown out words such as "incompetent" and "unreasonable" in an accusatory kind of way. Such tactics are not the best way to win people over, and in hindsight, perhaps I ought to have tempered myself.
Or not! Because we actually had forward progress on our refinance after they received the docs. Sure, they tried to put up another roadblock, demanding additional docs, but B was able to track down the PDF copies of them from our town's website (thank goodness for modern technology).
Several more weeks passed, and then early this week, I received a call from the guy who locked our rate. He explained that (despite all evidence to the contrary) the bank really wanted to close the mortgage. However, all the delays meant that they owed money to Freddie Mac because they weren't able to close the deal in the time allotted. They very generously (sniff) offered to pay half the fee, but they expected us to cough up the other half, about $700.
This put us in a very difficult situation. First of all, our amazing rate is long gone and will probably never return in my lifetime. Secondly, if we were to start the refinancing process over again, we'd have to pay over $300 to lock a new and higher rate and pay for a credit check, plus we'd be paying our current high mortgage interest each month while we waited for the loan to close.
I asked whether there was an appeal process, as we had responded to all requests in a timely way, so therefore, the delay was not our fault. He said we could appeal, but we'd be taken out of the queue that we were in and put in another queue. The appeal could take 30 days, and there were 3 possible results: the bank could cancel the loan entirely, they could deny the appeal (and then we'd owe about twice as much for the extra delay), or they could approve the appeal.
What could we do? I agreed to pay the fee. I am contemplating using the small-claims courts as my own personal appeal, but first I will have to do further research to determine if I have a case.
While I had him on the phone, I asked for the closing costs, which he gave me. Incidentally, they didn't match the actual costs on the docs we signed. Details, details.
I asked if we could bring a check to cover the closing costs. He said that any modifications would only delay the process. Again, all I could do was say ok and go along with it.
Although we weren't allowed to pay any closing costs, he said we were required to bring the $700 fee to the closing. He couldn't give me the exact amount and said we'd have to wait for a phone call on the day of the closing to get the number. Around 3 PM that day (after B had called and emailed everyone we knew at the bank trying to get the number), we received a phone call and email saying that we didn't have to bring any money to the closing and would in fact be receiving a check back from them. For what, we don't know.
For our closing, which took place at our house, a lawyer arrived with the docs. We signed them all, handed them back, and then it was over.
On the one hand, we feel as if we ought to celebrate. But the process was so long and horrible that we just want to feel grateful for our new rate and try to forget the drama that we went through to get it.
Now that we've got our mortgage finished, it's time to move on to other adulty tasks, including setting up a living trust, getting wills, and starting a 529 plan for the Rooster. Let the excitement begin.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Sad but true: There is no nursery theme
Last weekend, B and I traveled the state in search of home decor items.
First, we purchased some steer horns and a coordinating skull, cast in resin but remarkably lifelike. This item is not for Rooster's nursery. It joins the vejigante (mask) from Puerto Rico and the eyeless Venetian mask in our Items That Will Likely Terrify a Child collection. We're hoping that Rooster will be a brave little boy who is able to handle our decorating choices.
Next, we purchased curtains for the nursery. Before this weekend, I thought of buying curtains as a straightforward task. I now know that nothing is straightforward at Pottery Barn Kids.
Because of their high prices, PB is not my go-to store for items, but I knew we needed blackout curtains for Rooster's room, and PBK has a lot of them. The prices at PBK are more reasonable than at PB, so I chose a set I liked and decided to try to buy them in a store to skip the shipping charges.
The store we visited was not big but was divided into lots of little rooms, so I felt like I was hitting a dead end every time I turned a corner. We eventually found the curtains area but couldn't find the curtains I wanted, so we had to get in line and ask for help.
I had been going back and forth between green and white curtains, and I decided that white might be best for versatility. Unfortunately, the woman who helped us told me that they didn't carry the white curtains in their store, either for display or sale. Bummer. She said she could order them for me, but it would be the same as if I ordered them myself (that is, I'd have to pay for shipping).
I asked if she could show me a similar curtain to the kind I picked out, and she did. I wasn't crazy about the look or feel of the fabric, but I reasoned that I could always exchange them. I decided to buy the curtain rings that we needed at the store and to buy the curtains from their website.
Curtain rings were not on the floor, so she disappeared into the back storage office to get them. While she was gone, we started looking at other curtains and I started warming up to the idea of green curtains once again.
She returned empty handed and explained that they didn't have the silver-colored curtain rings and I'd have to buy them online. I said ok and said we had reconsidered our curtain color, and would she mind showing us the options that they had in green. She said sure but first wanted to know the decor of the nursery.
You might need to look at the PBK website to understand her question. They sell bedding, wall decor, curtains, floor rugs, and probably many other items in coordinating themes, such as sports or elephants. All the colors match perfectly, and the end result is a bit of a Stepford nursery. It's a fine look but it's not what we're going for.
I told her that we have an animal theme. It's true, sort of. We have four framed prints from the ABC Canadian Rockies children's book we picked up in Banff, and a Noah's Ark-themed tapestry from Peru with (obviously) pairs of three-dimensional fabric animals. We've also picked out some sheets that feature animals, and we're going to get some animal wall decals for the wall that will feature pictures of family and friends. However, our goal is not to design a color-coordinated room, and how do you explain that to someone who believes that a nursery should be color coordinated?
My animal-theme answer was not good enough, so she wanted to know the color of the floor. I explained that it's pink wall-to-wall carpeting. She seemed to disapprove of this choice for a baby boy and tried to direct us to the rack containing their rugs. I pooh-poohed this suggestion; why invest in a rug that will only be destroyed in a baby's room?
She reluctantly returned to the curtain racks with us, probably wondering how on earth we passed up the Dr. Suess-themed room, and she pointed out a few options in green. We chose a set with white polka dots and built-in blackout panels. But of course these curtains were not available on the floor, so she had to return to the back room to find them.
By some small miracle, they had them in stock. After she returned, I remembered that I wanted to buy sheer curtains to go behind them. Sheer curtains provide privacy while allowing light to filter in. But, you guessed it: these curtains were not available on the floor, either. It was another five-minute disappearance.
Eventually, she returned and rang up our purchase, and we were able to return to the safety of the mall. B declared that he hated the store and all the people in it and never wanted to return. Even I, a lover of shopping, felt that my patience had been tried by the experience.
Our curtain hardware just arrived in the mail yesterday, so we haven't hung the curtains yet to see how they look. If the green polkas are too much for a room that already has some attention-grabbing decor, we'll buy the white ones online and return the green ones to the store. I am ok with B waiting outside the store for that adventure. He has already paid his PBK dues.
First, we purchased some steer horns and a coordinating skull, cast in resin but remarkably lifelike. This item is not for Rooster's nursery. It joins the vejigante (mask) from Puerto Rico and the eyeless Venetian mask in our Items That Will Likely Terrify a Child collection. We're hoping that Rooster will be a brave little boy who is able to handle our decorating choices.
Next, we purchased curtains for the nursery. Before this weekend, I thought of buying curtains as a straightforward task. I now know that nothing is straightforward at Pottery Barn Kids.
Because of their high prices, PB is not my go-to store for items, but I knew we needed blackout curtains for Rooster's room, and PBK has a lot of them. The prices at PBK are more reasonable than at PB, so I chose a set I liked and decided to try to buy them in a store to skip the shipping charges.
The store we visited was not big but was divided into lots of little rooms, so I felt like I was hitting a dead end every time I turned a corner. We eventually found the curtains area but couldn't find the curtains I wanted, so we had to get in line and ask for help.
I had been going back and forth between green and white curtains, and I decided that white might be best for versatility. Unfortunately, the woman who helped us told me that they didn't carry the white curtains in their store, either for display or sale. Bummer. She said she could order them for me, but it would be the same as if I ordered them myself (that is, I'd have to pay for shipping).
I asked if she could show me a similar curtain to the kind I picked out, and she did. I wasn't crazy about the look or feel of the fabric, but I reasoned that I could always exchange them. I decided to buy the curtain rings that we needed at the store and to buy the curtains from their website.
Curtain rings were not on the floor, so she disappeared into the back storage office to get them. While she was gone, we started looking at other curtains and I started warming up to the idea of green curtains once again.
She returned empty handed and explained that they didn't have the silver-colored curtain rings and I'd have to buy them online. I said ok and said we had reconsidered our curtain color, and would she mind showing us the options that they had in green. She said sure but first wanted to know the decor of the nursery.
You might need to look at the PBK website to understand her question. They sell bedding, wall decor, curtains, floor rugs, and probably many other items in coordinating themes, such as sports or elephants. All the colors match perfectly, and the end result is a bit of a Stepford nursery. It's a fine look but it's not what we're going for.
I told her that we have an animal theme. It's true, sort of. We have four framed prints from the ABC Canadian Rockies children's book we picked up in Banff, and a Noah's Ark-themed tapestry from Peru with (obviously) pairs of three-dimensional fabric animals. We've also picked out some sheets that feature animals, and we're going to get some animal wall decals for the wall that will feature pictures of family and friends. However, our goal is not to design a color-coordinated room, and how do you explain that to someone who believes that a nursery should be color coordinated?
My animal-theme answer was not good enough, so she wanted to know the color of the floor. I explained that it's pink wall-to-wall carpeting. She seemed to disapprove of this choice for a baby boy and tried to direct us to the rack containing their rugs. I pooh-poohed this suggestion; why invest in a rug that will only be destroyed in a baby's room?
She reluctantly returned to the curtain racks with us, probably wondering how on earth we passed up the Dr. Suess-themed room, and she pointed out a few options in green. We chose a set with white polka dots and built-in blackout panels. But of course these curtains were not available on the floor, so she had to return to the back room to find them.
By some small miracle, they had them in stock. After she returned, I remembered that I wanted to buy sheer curtains to go behind them. Sheer curtains provide privacy while allowing light to filter in. But, you guessed it: these curtains were not available on the floor, either. It was another five-minute disappearance.
Eventually, she returned and rang up our purchase, and we were able to return to the safety of the mall. B declared that he hated the store and all the people in it and never wanted to return. Even I, a lover of shopping, felt that my patience had been tried by the experience.
Our curtain hardware just arrived in the mail yesterday, so we haven't hung the curtains yet to see how they look. If the green polkas are too much for a room that already has some attention-grabbing decor, we'll buy the white ones online and return the green ones to the store. I am ok with B waiting outside the store for that adventure. He has already paid his PBK dues.
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