Since Christmas fell on a Tuesday, I had a nice four-day weekend and except for Monday, Lane did too. A Christmas miracle! Among other things related to our impending parenthood, the state of the baby's room was seriously depressing me. The walls were dirty, the floor was dirty, a pile of dusty cords sat menacingly in one corner and the litter box in another. On Friday night, I put on my Type A Virgo hat and went to town on the whole mess. I sorted through the contents of our old desk and even organized it into a portable file. I untangled, cleaned and stored the superfluous cord yardage. I went through two magic erasers getting all the dark spots and inexplicably high paw prints off the walls, making sure that Ted was not licking up the pieces. He is obsessed by magic erasers and will steal them and go hide to gnaw on them. Every time I've found his remnants, I watch him for signs of mortal illness, but he's always fine. I've managed to find a safe, non-feline accessible storage spot for the magic erasers and I'm very diligent in cleaning up after I use them. He also has taken to drinking the Christmas tree water. Did I ever tell you about the two Siamese cats we had growing up that only drank the chlorinated water from the pool, leaving their fresh water untouched? Cats, man.
Anyway, I scrubbed all four walls, vacuumed the floors, baseboards and molding and cleaned the hardwood floors. Then I moved an old dresser that is storing baby stuff into the room and set out his/her new toys along with the stuffed animals I still have from my childhood, which are all early 80s brown and do nothing towards brightening up the room. Ted wandered in and encountered my life-size terrier stuffed animal named Barkley and thought it was a real animal. I of course jumped on the opportunity to freak him out and nudged Barkley with my toe while Ted was intently sniffing him from a safe distance. Ted leapt about four feet in the air and I got an idea about where all those five-foot high paw marks on the wall came from. I also brought in the stroller, but it looked empty and lonely, so I put one of the handmade blankets we've received and my teddy bear, Cynthia Patrick, in the seat to cheer it up. Every morning since then, Cynthia Patrick has been on the floor and the blanket has been slept on. I finally caught Max red-pawed and lounging in the stroller on Christmas night. He was stone cold chilling in there, sitting like a human and everything.
Once I was finished, the room was really clean but also really empty. Lane and I made grand plans to go to Mickey's Monkey and the SF Antiques and Design Mall to find some fun furniture (changing table/dresser, floor lamp, rug, low storage, knick knacks), but a giant storm came in and we had zero energy after braving the wilds of Serramonte. Babies R Us was an experience: I have never seen so much hideous plastic crap in one place. We did manage to see the car seat we picked IRL, purchase a Baby Bjorn after 20 minutes of deliberation and pick up some necessaries like baby bath soap, a Boppy, washcloths, swaddle blankets and crib sheets. We then hopped over to Target with the intention of picking up Tums and laundry bags, but somehow spent almost two hundred dollars. I shake my fist at you, Target! I could barely stand by the time we got home, so we nixed the vintage hunting and I took a bath instead.
I was a restaurant widow on Christmas eve and felt pretty under the weather, but somehow I managed to give my bathroom the Virgo-with-access-to-bleach treatment over the course of three hours, as I had to rest after scrubbing every five to ten minutes. I also managed to prep orange-olive oil sticky buns for Christmas morning and Parker House rolls for Christmas dinner, also over the course of a few hours. Baby steps, Dr. Marvin.
We woke up, ate the sticky buns while watching a creepy yule log on Hulu and opened our presents. The cats were absolutely disinterested in the mounds of wrapping paper and ribbon this year. Perhaps they were protesting the lack of new catnip toys with their names on them under the tree. We then visited my family at The Fairmont, where they were spending a leisurely holiday with no dishes to do. We had cocktail hour, which in my family means bottles of wine and snacks hour, and opened our presents. My mom even brought up our stockings and hung them around the suite. Lane and I asked for donations in our names this year because the last thing we need is more stuff. My parents donated to PAWS and my sister and her husband saved a cat named Linus at the SF SPCA. I am going to find Linus and bring him home and love him forever.
Lane and I were both pretty tired when we got home and half-assed cooking our Christmas dinner, which was supposed to be a splendid rack of lamb, Brussels sprouts with bacon, potato and celery root gratin, Parker House rolls and salad with pomegranate and fennel. It all turned out kind of blah and Lane even snuck out for Indian food later that night. Lesson learned: If we want to savor our last meals as a childless couple, it's a better idea to go out.
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