a kitchen heist

So I'm browsing my usual coupon/money-saving baby sites yesterday afternoon. You know. . the babycheapskate.com, coupons.com, dealsformoms.com, etc. and I see a post to remind me that the Toys R Us Labor Day Sale is going on. So I click on the flyer. . .because I need absolutely nothing from Toys R Us. . .

And I see it. The play kitchen. The kitchen I've been scouring countless craiglists ads and yardsales for. . .for months. . .and it's 50% off! I was hoping to get one used and in good condition. . .not only to give a toy a little more life, but to save my wallet the pain of these new toy kitchen prices. Which, let me tell you aren't really an option for a one-income family and run in the hundreds of dollars for a decent, wooden kitchen. . .without the accessories.

So back to the kitchen because I know you're on the edge of your seat. . .

At 50% off, this tiny (a necessity in our living space), wooden (score!), non-pink or pastel colored kitchen (you mean they come in boy colors, too?!?) is about 50 dollars! Must be a mistake! Must jump on this immediately! I get online immediately and figure the extra cost of shipping it is worth getting one at this price. . .I find it on the website, click "order me". . .and a picture of a onesie comes on the screen and says "thank you for your order."

No! I don't need a purple polka dotted onesie! I'm panicked and getting angry at this point and decide to brave the hold time and call customer service.

A friendly young man named Jason tells me that they are in the process of removing the kitchen deal from the website because in Toys R Us online land. . .they are indeed sold out. Darn! Oh, and I cancelled my order for the onesie.

I sit back on the couch and start watching some silly PBS cooking show and think, maybe there's one at my local store, still? Just maybe. . .

And don't you know. . . 35 minutes on hold and after asking four separate associates. . .someone tells me there are 4 in Nashua. . .yesssssss. . .

Are you bored with this story yet? I promise this is where it gets good. . .

But how big is the box? I drive a Subaru Impreza. . . Is it heavy? I'm 40 minutes away from my Toys R Us. . .will there still be any left? And I have to work in 2 hours and haven't ironed my clothes. . .argh. . .what to do? Does Cole really need this kitchen? Yes. Absolutely. So I give Bill the baby monitor (luckily Cole was napping), slam a cold piece of pizza down my throat and take off. . .

The car doesn't have a lot of gas but I'll make it there, at least. I'm speeding, tailgating. . .trying to gain some ground on my drive. I have to drive down this busy commercial street with a ton of lights and I'm hitting every red. . .I switch lanes to get in front of the pokey old people. . .run a few yellow lights. . .and I realize. . .I'm getting stressed out. My heart is beating fast, my jaw is clenched and I'm actually sweating a little. And the baby starts kicking (let's not forget about her!) and I start laughing out loud in the car!

I can't remember the last time I got myself all fired up for something like this. Probably the last thing I found for Cole that I really wanted to get him. . .maybe the day we got the Britax in the mail! ;-) I tell the kicking baby that it's amazing what her mother has turned into. . .and get to Toys R Us in record time.

I grab a carriage and am almost running to the "pretend play" section. Which is not really where moms of boys hang out, I'll admit. But this is important. . .and he's going to love it. . .and I do have a girl on the way. . .so I remind myself this will be a good purchase.

I run down the play kitchen aisle and scan the shelves. . .at least ten different models of huge, plastic kitchens. . .at least $100 each. . .ugh. . .they must be gone. I turn the corner and there it is. . .on display in the middle of the aisle for everyone to grab before me. . .and I see only 2 boxes left!!

There's a man (sort of big, too) literally holding one of the 2 boxes. The box he is holding is new, unopened and in good condition. The only box left on the display is torn open, dented and dirty. Oh man. And the guy says under his breath that he'll need a carriage to carry the kitchen. . .puts the box down and leaves.

I'm not going to spell out in black and white what happened at that point. . .but here's a stock photo of Cole's new (in an unopened box) play kitchen that he'll be getting this Christmas from Santa:

And come on. . .try to tell me honestly that you wouldn't have done the same thing!?! I mean, it's blue and everything!

I got it home and with this triumphant smile I said to Bill, "So. . .so. . .what do you think?" Without missing a beat he said "Cole is going to love it just as much as those little girls on the box."

He was right. . .the boxes were covered with little girls.

on the phone

Here's a very grainy video I took tonight of Cole on the phone with my mom. . .I can't imagine what he has to say!

deep breaths. . .

I'm very disorganized lately and I apologize.

I haven't been very good about updating the blog and I know that some of you check back often to see our goings-on. So I'll try to be better about that. Quite a bit of family is now on Facebook and that's become an easy, up-to-the-minute way to connect and share little daily tid bits. So if you're not on already. . .ask Aunt Pat. . .she'll teach you how! ;-)

I thought of coming on here at 4:00 a.m. this morning when Cole was screaming in his bed to give you my full effect of emotion. . . but decided against it at the last minute. I can't figure out what the problem is with us lately, but it seems every 3-5 months we hit this patch where he won't sleep through the night. He's up super late, and will wake up crying. . .and he doesn't want anything. . .just to be held and rocked. . .for hours. It's awful.

We thought it might be his teeth (which are still bothering him!), or another growth spurt (as seen by the clothing that all of a sudden is too small, again). . .but we're not sure. Bill and I (I'm not going to lie here. . . it's mostly Bill) deal with his antics and rock him until he's sleeping again. . .tip toe to the crib and lay him down ever-so gently. . .tip toe out of the room and hold our breaths downstairs for about 15 minutes until we know he's asleep.

Anyway. . .it didn't take long for me to string this together with the impending arrival of another child to have a panic attack. How are we going to have two sleeping children, ever? Certainly not in one room. . .and then it hit us. . .we will no longer have our own room. Sigh. I pictured myself holding a screaming baby and listening to another screaming baby through the monitor and wished I could have a drink. At 4:00 a.m.

Eventually I went back to sleep and so did Cole. . .but that thought of "oh no. . what did we do?" is still in my head. Which, I then realized. . .is probably why I haven't updated in a bit. My update is basically that I'm having daily panic attacks trying to visualize in my head how I will deal with two kids. Putting them to bed. . .feeding them both. . .keeping them both entertained for hours a day. . .just transporting them from point A to B. . .it's all very daunting.

Deep breaths. . .

Anyway. . . besides his sleep habits, Cole is certainly displaying acts of independence. Sometimes it's yelling at the grocery store and laughing when I tell him to stop. Sometimes it's throwing blueberries at the window. And other times it's as simple and running away from me for 30 minutes when I say it's time to put shoes on. Everyday it's something new and usually centers around him telling me he's not going to do what I've asked him to do. So this'll last for what. . the next 12 or so years? Fantastic.

Here he is eating breakfast this week. He wouldn't eat his breakfast in his highchair. . .but it was apparently just fine if I let him sit at the table himself. And so it begins. . .

it's a . . .

girl!

If you can believe that. . .I still remember the true story of a friend of mine who's sonogram showed a girl, but everyone in the delivery room was surprised when Jack made his appearance! So we'll see. . you never can be too sure. But our technician was pretty sure Cole will be a big brother.

The good news is that she's healthy and looking good. . .here is the new mug shot:

Guess we can't call her fishstick anymore. . .