I feel like I’ve already had my initiation into dad-hood. I’ve yet to change a diaper, complete a successful burping or suction any nostrils, but what I HAVE done is fulfill one of the most important “dad jobs” there is: assemble large objects out of many, MANY smaller objects following nothing more than a vague set of directions written by a man in Pakistan.
So far, I – along with the assistance, cheering and photography of my wife – have constructed a crib, changing table, dresser, two bookshelves, stroller and a bouncer. We even did our own project with her monogram, which MJ detailed in her last post. All of this was done with minimal swearing and grumbling, which, as my wife will tell you, is huge growth for me.
|I've refrained from Toolman grunting...so far.|
She and I have built this kind of stuff before…dressers, cabinets, TV stands, etc. Some are easy, everything fits like it’s supposed to, and you’re left with a wonderful sense of accomplishment and handiness when the job is done. Others test every inch of your patience, eventually cause you to “just make it fit” and then mock you endlessly from the corner of the living room after you discover that the “Left Panel A” you used was actually “Right Panel AA” and it’s on backwards.
Luckily, Susan’s furniture went together smoothly, more so than any other “furniture in a box” I’ve ever purchased. For those of you soon-to-be parents, I HIGHLY recommend buying anything Carter’s brand. It’s a shame that they only make baby stuff. In my mind, building all of these things is preparing me for one thing, perhaps the biggest challenge to all fathers of little girls…the Barbie Dream House…to be delivered on Christmas morning…completely assembled…with a smile on my face.
|This contains 55 pieces. FIFTY-FIVE PIECES. Do we REALLY need the mini toilet?|
Despite the tedious process involved in constructing all these things, the best part is that when you’re finished, you have something tangible to show that in less than two months, Susan will be here and we’ll be parents. None of this stuff we’re building is for us. It’s all Susan’s. Over the past month, the nursery has gone from guest bedroom to empty bedroom to Susan’s bedroom. There are books on her bookshelf. Her clothes are hanging in the closet. The bed is made. It’s like the calm before the storm, and now all we need is a baby. At least she comes fully assembled.