I had big dreams for our nursery. I insisted on placing my prized Balinese Canopy Daybed in there and decorated it with Japanese Cherry Blossoms in the hopes that Yuna would be transported to a haven of serenity and channel her inner zen whenever she sleeps in that room.
At first, we dumped all the baby stuff in there, and as a bored pregnant lady, I sorted through all our baby shower loot and started organizing everything a few weeks before my due date. I would sit on the daybed for 10 minutes everyday, close my eyes and inhale the addicting scent of Dreft on Yuna's newborn clothes like Lindsay Lohan on coke. I burst with excitement with each and every breath of the enticing aroma of freshly laundered baby clothes.
That was until I gave birth.
For the first few months, we were so focused on adjusting to our new, permanent house guest that the thought of assigning her to the nursery completely obliterated our minds. This guest deserved nothing less than royalty treatment and she needed 2 slaves at her disposal. To be able to cater to her needs asap, she slept in her royal bassinet located in our room as she had a list of rooming demands comparable to JLo's dressing room requirements. She needed immediate access to her feeders, burpers and diaper changers and the most convenient way to execute this is for her to share a room with these 2 commoners.
5.5 months after and she's still our roommate. And what has become of the nursery?
Watch and learn, my friend.
The crisp smell of fresh laundry has been replaced by the smell of sweaty balls and muck. Bulky gym equipment (albeit organized properly after each session) replaced the corner meant for the changing table. Our daughter will never be able to channel her inner zen in this situation.
I guess my big dreams will remain just that.. just dreams.
A mother can only hope.
To avoid a bloody war before going to bed tonight, Shi would like for me to clarify that he doesn't usually work out in his bikini briefs. It was just my luck that I captured his golden moment before hitting the shower.
In the spirit of democracy, I will leave it up to the readers to decide whether to believe him or not.
4 comments:
HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
hahaha! shi, i commend you for being such a sport on this.. :)
I know, I could've exposed a lot more but he ran away when I tried taking a picture of him all naked while getting water.
I know he reads the comments so I must say, HE'S THE BESTEST AWESOMEST MOFO ever!! And I mean mofo LITERALLY, because after all, he is screwing a mother ;-)
I can't believe it! Even in my own house!?! Now i have to watch out for what i do, what i eat, what i wear...???
Tina, i want to tackle on the word COMPROMISE. Webster may only have a number of definitions for it, but it grants me so much delight and gratification that it liberates me from indoor-shackles!
I have been refraining from going to the gym so you have extra help at home, whether or not the baby is asleep. I already surrendered to your requests: "No Weight-Bench!" "No punching Bag!" "Not this!" "Not that!" "Move the light in this corner." "No, not there!"
Listen, I'm the most sensible, reasonable, understanding (though quite nonsensical-at-times) guy that i know--- but we have to start drawing the line somewhere, sometime, and somehow! So can't i at least have my own space (unharmed, undisturbed, and untamed) after our cute boss retires for the day? It doesn't even take me more than an hour to go crazy in that small room! And i only do it right before hitting the shower before i go to sleep!
UGH!
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