Macho Man

Yesterday, Bret and I had our first argument since Alyson was born. Considering the sleep deprivation, dramatic life changes and crashing hormones, I am told that is pretty darn good. Since we closed on our house over a month ago we have been able to do some home improvements. Last week we had brand new carpeting installed in the bedrooms and the den. The idea of picking out a color scheme at four weeks postpartum seemed completely overwhelming at the time. I remember breaking down in tears on the way back from Home Depot because I just couldn't put a coherent thought together to decide on a color. Grey Squirrel or Potter's Clay? Which one should we put in the master bedroom? And what if I choose the wrong one? Life will never be the same again. But now that the carpet is here I am so glad we did it. It really will be nice to start out fresh in the new house and I am glad Bret's parents convinced us it was worth while.

After the carpeting came the obvious next step: painting the baby's room. We had some painters some in to give estimates but after our first appointment Bret decided to get all "Dad" about it and firmly declared that he was painting his daughters room. He had this "under control."

Now, I understand the fatherly need to paint your kid's room before they are here -- when you are big and pregnant and there is nothing else to do but eat and look at ultrasound pictures. But here's my beef with it now: do you really need to paint your child's room when you have a seven week-old infant, you are moving in less than two weeks and you are both going bonkers from sleep deprivation? Apparently, yes, men do. So tomorrow Bret is making the trip out to Jersey to give his daughter's room a fresh coat of paint. Thankfully, Alyson's Godfather signed on to help. Really, Ryan (and Em!) are truly the best.

I am really proud of Bret for wanting to paint her room and I think it is adoringly sweet. Don't get me wrong, I am not overwhelmed by the idea. I am just overwhelmed by the idea of having one more thing to think about with one more sleepless night. At eight weeks postpartum I really thought I had it together. The crying episodes had stopped for weeks now and I am more even-tempered. But low and behold when I went to pick out the paint at Home Depot old waterworks started up again. I am told most women feel back to normal after six weeks but considering I am now in the process of moving as well I figure that buys me another four at least. Just don't ask me to pick out cabinets or I may lose it completely...

So here we are painting Alyson's room with one week until move day. Alyson thinks her Dad is pretty darn cool for wanting to make her room perfect. And I have to say, I agree. Mom, on the other hand, well ... she will get it together eventually. Probably just in time for Alyson to go to nursery school.