Molly and I experienced such a time this weekend when we cleaned out our apartment to make room for the changing table, bassinet, diaper trashcan and Baby Iauco’s copious wardrobe. Since we live in a claustrophobic, one-bedroom apartment, the challenges of having a third roommate began to materialize as we started collecting the various necessities associated with bringing an infant home from the hospital.
Refusing to deprive Baby Iauco of any luxuries or comforts, Molly and I realized that we were going to have to sacrifice our “stuff” for the much needed space around the house. As I watched Molly deliberate over ditching a scratched Edwin McCain CD found entombed in a box of God-knows-what from the depths of her closet, I sensed that she might have some difficulty with this project. Meanwhile, being a self-proclaimed minimalist with borderline OCD, I was very excited to get started with the catharsis. Among the flotsam and jetsam were various picture collages, broken electronics, sports posters, random running medals, old magazines and a signed picture of the pre-John Basedow fitness celebrity, Body by Jake (editor’s note: My sister once sat beside Body by Jake on a ride at Universal Studios).
After a few mild arguments and a trip to the store for extra garbage bags, we finally found the space we needed for Baby Iauco’s impending arrival. Our apartment definitely feels more spacious without the bags of baby gear lying around. Prior to this weekend, if a stranger had wandered into our apartment, he might have mistaken us for one of those hoarders that get profiled on Oprah or Dr. Phil from time to time. Now, we just appear to be a typical city couple that is trying to fit our entire lives into an 850 square-foot, air-conditioned box of sheetrock.
With the difficult part out of the way, Molly and I began setting up the baby’s corner of the room – the “Nursery,” if you will. I had put together the changing table earlier in the weekend, and we even went to the store to buy diapers for the first time. We had to ask a woman browsing at the store what kind of diapers were the best, and she looked at us like we were crazy when we explained that the baby had yet to be born. She told us to buy the cheapest ones we could find, and then launched into a tirade about how she has to pay nine cents more per diaper than most people because of some conspiracy or another. Molly and I quietly backed away from her while making a pact with each other to never become so contemptuous. We then proceeded to – like any first-time parents – buy the most expensive ones we could find... We'll see how long that lasts.
Below is a picture of our soon-to-be-expanding nursery:
