DIY, Please Don't Die

It was a beautiful day here in suburban Washington, D.C. The high, humid temperatures broke yesterday and today was mostly sunny and in the mid-80's.

Combined, my wife and I spent thirty minutes outside of our house.

Rather than take advantage of one of our final few weekends as a couple, we undertook a few things that we've been neglecting for a while: a wholesale clean of our home and setting up the nursery.

We did quite a number on the nursery, opening nearly all the gifts, de-tagging the tiny clothes, readying them for the wash, laughing at the books we'll have memorized in a few months and me...I built some things.

I am not a handyman. I'm not even a handy man. But it seems that all the baby furniture and accessories we bought (and are available) are DIY assembly. Talk about pressure to perform.

Beyond the fact that my future daughter's life is hanging in the balance of my craftsmanship on various swings and chairs, but the manufacturers do not make it any easier. Each book of instructions comes in about seven languages, with each step repeated in each language. Fortunately, each step comes illustrated. On a related note, it's great to see that M.C. Escher is getting work these days.

After only a few missteps and wrong turns, I was able to get the most intricate piece of furniture built. It's a swing, and a mobile, and a musicmaker, and a floor wax, and a dessert topping. After all the time I put into figuring out what goes where, reversing course and deciding what was supposed to go elsewhere, I'm hoping that my daughter will enjoy it for more than five minutes. Although, given that I built it, I'm just hoping that it lasts five minutes.

Taking a Shower

Baby showers - just like a party, but sober. And with tiny sandwiches!

Yes, we attended our baby's shower last weekend, prior to heading off to the beach. Only 14 months removed from my wife's bridal shower, my heart rate had barely slowed by last Saturday.

Our baby's shower was, by all accounts, awesome. By my account, I showed up at my in-laws, saw some family and friends I hadn't seen in a while, was whisked away with the other menfolk, ordered wings and sandwiches, had four-year-old girls serve us cookies, and got lots of baby stuff that we needed.

Much as I bitch and moan, I did enjoy the baby shower, maybe even more than my wedding shower (mostly because no drive to Pittsburgh was involved). I have a roomful of items to assemble, wash, fold, and organize in anticipation of my daughter's arrival. I like social situations, especially with people I haven't seen in a while and when there is a set end time. And I really like eating tiny sandwiches, crab cakes, and deviled eggs.

What I don't like is accounting for all the gifts and writing thank you notes. Following our shower and our wedding, I was on thank you note duty. Regardless of the gift, a thank you note was required. It may have been hard to keep a straight face when writing great-aunt Ethel about the practicality of a left-handed smoke shifter, but at least it was my left-handed smoke shifter. The gifts we got on Saturday aren't even mine, they are my daughter's. Yet my wife and I will have to write the thank you notes. Something about that doesn't seen right.

I think it's time to change the shower/thank you note dynamic. Expectant parents have too much on their minds to worry about thanking someone for gifts that do not belong to them. That's why my daughter will write all of her own thank you notes. We'll start working on them early so that when she can actually write, we'll be able to get to suckers right out the door.

So if you were generous enough to purchase a gift on my daughter's behalf, my wife and I sincerely thank you. My daughter, on the other hand, you can expect to hear from in about six years. Sooner if you don't mind being thanked in crayon.