Chillin' in the crib

Emelyn’s got a proper nursery now, and I’ve got a wrenched back. Both resulted from moving Emelyn’s fully-assembled wooden crib outside our master bedroom, half-ways down the stairs, up over the banister, a tad into the bathroom, a flip over and under, and then into the guest room. Mind you, ours is a little English terrace house, so the distance travelled was only twelve feet, but my, what a twisty, turny twelve-foot journey thatwas.

Course, if you really get down to it, the real reason I’m suddenly strutting around with this inflexible, zombie-like gait isn’t because we moved her crib, it’s because we didn’t take the crib apart, first. Now that’s a quintessential Azure-and-Jason execution, if I ever saw such a thing: after all, why waste 10 minutes dis-assembling a crib when you can spend 90 minutes lifting it over your head? (And then dis-assembling it to get it through the very last door.)

Anyhow. Emelyn, for her part, is doing just dandy in her new digs. She’s sleeping much better, especially when we first put her down in the evening. In retrospect, there was probably way too much street noise in our front bedroom, where her crib used to be; things can get briefly riotous when the pub down the street lets out.

Not a ton of other news to report. Mobility is the other big change with Emmie, I suppose. She’s not crawling, yet, but she definitely understands the roll-to-where-you-want-to-be tactic. This necessitated the recent purchase of a Graco pack-n-play for our living room; I’m now fully confident that there will not be a single piece of adult furniture left in our house a year from today. In fact, I might as well trade in this Thinkpad for a Leapfrog Learning Laptop, right now…