Lessons from Dad: Gang Life...

Until the end of my 5th grade year I grew up Vienna, Virginia. It was a tough place to grow up, mainly because we had to stop our hockey games in the streets to let the soccer-moms in their mini vans to pass. I lived in a townhouse on Lafora Court. If I remember, I think ours was the fourth on the right.

I think I was about seven years old when Melissa moved in across the street. She was probably about nine at the time, and boy was I crazy about older women. Melissa wasn't exactly the best of girls. Looking back at it, she was probably a little brat. At one time I think I was planning on marrying the bratty older woman across the street.

Matt Norton lived on Towney View Court, only one court down from ours. I don't remember a whole lot about Matt (or Melissa, for that matter) other than he wore glasses, and has probably been in a few other "courts" since... just a hunch. Matt was a year older than me, and also a friend of Melissa.

We both tagged behind Melissa and tried our hardest to impress her. She really was the puppetmaster, and she loved every minute of it.

One day, I'm sure it was a summer day because we had a lot of daylight to get in trouble, we decided to start a gang. Melissa, of course, was to be the "president" of the gang. We weren't sure if gangs had presidents, or the general pecking orders of gangs. But either way, Melissa was the boss. Matt was second-in-command, because he was next oldest. I was the youngest, and it was decided that I had to earn my way into the gang; an initiation if you will.

I could not believe I was asked to be in a gang! Me... Tim... in a gang! I could see myself in the leather jacket from the get-go.

I don't remember what our gang name was. If it was up to Melissa (which I'm sure it was), I bet we were the "Teddybears"... or the "Ponies"... or "Melissa's Gang." Whatever it was, the name was fierce, and struck fear in our rival gang's hearts.

On that supposed summer day, we hiked through the "big field," by the "huge old tree," under the "scary bridge," and up a big wooded hill that overlooked a two-laned road. It was then that President Melissa and Second-In-Command Matt declared my initiation challenge. In order to be initiated into the gang, I had to stand on the hill, and through the trees, hit a car with a rock...

A rock throwing challenge? Are you kidding me? I invented rock throwing!

They gave me three chances... like I needed three shots, but it was a nice gesture. I knew they picked this challenge because they thought I would either wimp out, or if I decided to try it, I would fail miserably by hitting a tree or just plain missing a car.

I grabbed a rock that was roughly the size and weight of a golf ball. I saw a white Jeep SUV come around the corner from my left to right. President Melissa smirked and said something bratty like "Don't miss!"

She obviously had forgotten that I invented rock throwing.

I led the SUV with my aim, I reared back, and threw a frozen rope (baseball term) through the trees that landed square in the middle of the passenger side rear door...

I couldn't believe it. My eyes were huge. I stood there as a newly initiated gang member as I admired my shot. It was so perfect! It was then that I realized that the driver was standing out of his car and staring right at us.

President Melissa and Second-In-Command Matt immediately ran off. I was a wirey and fast little kid, and if something was chasing me, I think I was the fastest runner on earth. We all three ran towards an office building. I watched the President and Second-In-Command immediately climb two trees. Why did they climb a tree? I still have no idea...

I was too small to reach the branches, but that wasn't my style anyways. When you're small for your age, you get good at hiding. I ran under a car and spread flat on the asphalt parking lot.

I saw the man's feet trot by my car and over toward the two trees. The President and Second-In-Command didn't see where I hid, so they couldn't rat me out. The man grabbed them and threatened to call the cops unless they told him their addresses. I stayed under the car for at least a half an hour (thinking about how awesome of a throw that was) before I trotted home.

I caught up with Melissa and Matt the next day. I was told that I was out of the gang because they got in trouble...

Melissa moved away to some big apartment building nearby. I have no idea what happened to Matt Norton. I still laugh about the gang to this day.

There are two morals to this story...

1) If you join a gang, make sure you're faster and smarter than the other two members, and

2) Never challenge your dad to anything that involves throwing rocks at something... because he invented rock throwing!

Baird Family Portrait...

My Dad and little brother, Austin, were in from Texas for Thankgiving. We made sure we got in a couple good photos before they left...


A.D. contributed to Thanksgiving by cooking up a little "gravy" of his own...

And on a side note, these are some of the pictures you find on the card when you let a 13-year-old have the camera for a couple hours...

I'll send those last three to his first college girlfriend. I can't wait.

12 hours later...

That day was pretty busy and after work I was in charge of picking up take-out for us, Tim's Dad and Austin, and Lee and Amanda. To say we had a house full that evening would be accurate. However, it was great to spend time with friends and family sitting around the table catching up. After everyone cleared out, I headed upstairs to change and get A.D. settled down for the evening. Tim quickly came upstairs also, and nervously sat down beside me.
"So, are you ok?" He asked.
I glanced over as I quickly changed A.D's diaper. "Yep. Are you?"
He ignored my question, "Is there anything you want to talk about?"
At this point he was beginning to freak me out, "No, but evidently there is something you would like to. Spill."
He went on to give me a recounting of his day. I busted out laughing. I couldn't stop. As you can imagine, Tim was squirming by this point and wanted an answer.
"You are looking at your answer," I said holding up A.D.
I had thrown the positive tests in the back of my medicine cabinet after finding out I was pregnant with A.D. and forgotten about them. On that morning, I decided to clean out the cabinet and didn't think a thing about throwing the tests away. Next time, I'll say something to Tim so I don't scare him so badly. One way or the other, it made for a great laugh and a good story. Guess you all will have to keep tuning in to see how much longer "a couple of years" will be.

Baird... to the Fourth???

Tiff and I have often talk about how many kids we would like to have. We never come up with a definite number, because it all depends on the sex of the kids... For example, if we have eleven boys, I think we might call it quits trying for a little girl after the twelfth boy.

We've also talked about how long we'd like to wait, preferably, before trying for another one. Usually the answer for that one is "around a couple years."
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Not too long ago, Tiff headed in to work and I had A.D. for the day. I was up in the bathroom getting ready to take a shower when I glanced toward the little trashcan next to the toilet. The three (yes... three) pink "First Response" pregnancy test boxes that were jammed into the said trashcan immediately caught my eye.

Like any other husband would do, I opened the boxes to see the outcomes of the tests...

They were positive...

All of them.

I looked down at the two pink lines on the tests and couldn't think of anything. Tiff was at work, and I certainly wasn't going to call her and discuss this while she was working. It was only nine in the morning, and she didn't get off until six that evening.

I was a wreck.

Like I said, I'm not against having more kids. In fact, I'm excited for the day that I can watch my family grow (and maybe grow more after that). But at four months, A.D. would only be about a year old when the next would be due. (I'm sure I'm off there, but as much as I've tried to understand pregnancy math, I still don't understand it... They are lying when they say "nine months"). But Tiff isn't ready for it either.

I think Tiff's just now starting to really feel good after having A.D., but I would still be worried that it is a little too soon.

Now I had to wait another nine hours to see if our family is about to be Plus 1...

To Be Continued...

Lesson from Dad: When Things are Funny...

Hey kiddo, it's me again.

Today I'd like to talk to you about funny things.

Remember yesterday when you and Daddy were dancing around the living room while listening to Reel Big Fish? Daddy was singing along and making goofy faces, and you giggled. Dancing around the living room was fun, and Daddy was being funny...

Do you also remember the other day when Daddy was changing your diaper and you decided to pee? You peed on Daddy, on the wall, on your clothes, the changing pad... I think you may have hit the cat too. You giggled then too.

I think you're a little confused about when things are funny, and when things are definitely not funny. So let's run through a little checklist of what is funny and what is not funny...

1. Peeing on Daddy? Not funny
2. Peeing on the cat? Funny
3. Peeing on Mommy? Hilarious

That should about cover it really.

If you stick to these three little rules, we'll be best friends.

-- Daddy

Fun with Captions...

Here are a few of my favorites from the last couple weeks...

We're starting to smile a lot now...

Engrossed in the Football Game...

Helping Daddy cook, kind of...

Whoh!

Boo...

Happy Halloween, from Tim, Tiff, and A.D.

Multitasking...

Last night was one of those nights that the little man did not want to go to sleep. He was in one of those moods that he was unhappy when I put him on his back, and he just wanted to be held. Oh, and he wanted to be bounced.

So for a while last night I was walking around the house and bouncing a baby. I was quietly singing good bouncing songs to him (like "Bad Touch" by the Bloodhound Gang) to keep the rhythm. It's probably not the best bedtime song, I know... but it worked at the time.

I could only take so much bouncing. I decided that a drive would be good to calm him down, and we needed to gas for the Volvo.

Now just like any road trip I take, my body immediately says "I have to pee" before I get in the car. I think it's a conditioned response from when I was little. Mom would always ask my sister and I, "If you have to go to the bathroom, go now."

Thanks Mom.

So there was my dilemma... if I put the kid down he started crying. If I stopped bouncing he started crying. I had to pee.

Next thing I knew, I was standing in front of the toilet, holding a baby, bouncing, singing "Bad Touch," and peeing.

It was another one of those moments when you think to yourself... "what the hell am I doing?"

The drive put him to sleep, and I finally found a gas station that was open at 11:00 on a Sunday night.

And Reality Sinks In...

Last night, while Tiff and I were in the kitchen, I looked over at the baby, back at Tiff, and back to the baby...

"Holy Crap... we have a kid."

I'll admit that it wasn't one of my more brilliant moments.

I also admit that I know he's already almost 3 months old, give or take. I know that: we've had pictures made of him; have a blog about him; I saw him pop out of my wife (kinda); we've dropped him off and picked him up at daycare; PAYED for daycare; taken him to the E.R. at midnight; and have a lot of nicknames for him.

I know that.

But standing there in the kitchen watching Tiff wash bottles while he was on the floor blowing snot bubbles (which is hilarious, by the way) was really one of those weird times when the baby thing sunk in. I'm not sure why.

As a side note, you'll all see the photos once the family get their copies.

Things you learn...

I'm a planner. Anyone that knows me well will agree. Over the past 10 weeks, however, I've learned that you can think through all possible scenarios but you will never get close to what life can throw your way.
I had done all my research about the stages of labor and when we needed to go to the hospital. Little did I know. There is only around a 12% chance that you will deliver due to your water breaking. My Ob/Gyn was very thorough in my last appointment, mentioned the possibility, and warned me to cover any seat that I didn't want ruined with a towel. Knowing the statistics, I have to admit, I scoffed. "Won't happen to me." I was especially adamant that I was going to deliver before my due date (which most people disagreed with seeing how small I was), but I really thought we had another week. A.D. had other plans. My water broke at 12 A.M. on 8/4/08. Guess 12% really isn't so small.
During my pregnancy, I had debated back and forth on using formula or whether we would give breastfeeding a try. I am generally a pretty open-minded person and being in the medical field, I knew the benefits of breastfeeding. I was also aware of how physically and mentally draining it could be when you are the sole person feeding an infant (especially at night) at least for the first few weeks until you could start pumping. I decided, after attending a breastfeeding class, that we would give it a go in the hospital if it came easily. People love telling you their horror stories, especially breastfeeding ones. I figured we had maybe a 25% possibility that we would be breastfeeding when we left the hospital. I was again thinking that with such a low number, I would only brush up on what I needed to know for the first few days. Life likes to show you who is really in control sometimes, and we officially have a breastfed baby.
When I graduated from MUSC, we debated staying in Charleston, moving closer to family, or just picking a place on the map. Logic won out (higher pay and much, much lower cost of living), and we moved to Upstate SC and now live just 1/2 a mile from my parents. Our biggest concern was only knowing family since many of my friends had moved to other states after high school/college. If you would have asked me a couple years ago, I never would have thought we would be within walking distance to my parents or that I would live back in the Upstate at all. I didn't know what a blessing this has become. My parents visit more often now that we have A.D. around, but generally we are probably a bigger nuisance to them than they have ever been to us. We like being able to borrow lawn equipment, obtain the random ingredient we forgot at the grocery store for dinner, and take dips in their pool. We never would have considered some of the phone calls we have thrown their way. "Hey, Dad. Is there anyway you can go close up the house and garage," I queried as I rushed Tim to the hospital to stitch up his hand that was profusely bleeding due to a garage accident. "Hey, Dad. Is there anyway you can take me to the eye doctor," I asked as I experienced during pregnancy my first aura prior to a migraine that left me seeing spots. A side note, Tim was recovering from surgery that day to repair the damage from the garage accident which is why I didn't call him first. "Hey, Dad. Is there anyway you can come pick up A.D. and keep him for the rest of the night?" This call came last night around 2:30 A.M. when Tim and I realized that we had food poisoning and would definitely not be fit parents anytime soon. My Dad has the bad habit of being the person to pick up the phone, but both of my parents have been there during times I never would have imagined I would find myself. Who could foretell food poisoning? A stomach bug where one person isn't functional, yes, but not food poisoning. I have a new appreciation of my parents even though I've been reassured many times that they are happy to help out. And none of this lessens the fact that we could call any number of our friends if we needed help, but it is a little easier to rouse your parents at 2:30 A.M. --Tiff

Quick Update

Since Tim has been so busy the past few weeks, I thought I would write my first post and give everyone a quick update. So here goes... Last weekend we traveled to Hickory for Lenior-Rhyne's Homecoming and was able to introduce A.D. to all of our college friends. Tim even tried to introduce A.D. to the L-R Bear...

I also went back to work last week but only worked half days. I found it was much easier to ease back into things when Tim and Kristin were babysitting. This week I went back to work full days Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, and A.D. started daycare. I was very proud of myself that I didn't cry and only called once (just don't ask how many times I talked myself out of calling). Daycare has been a new experience though. A.D. woke up Wednesday morning with a cold and that broke my heart. You know they are going to get sick at some point but I wasn't ready for it quite this early. Especially since this morning we had to go for his two month check-up and vaccines. He has now reached the 66th percentile for length and gained two pounds weighing in at a whopping 9 lbs 8.8 oz. Sorry to all that this post wasn't as funny as Tim's normally are...we definitely know who is the more boring half ;) Tiff

The Month in Review -- Fun with Fauxhawks...

As I'm sure you all have figured out, these last few weeks have been crazy. So here's an update...

The little man still hasn't been sleeping for more than 3 hours at a time, so Tiff has been pretty worn out. Luckily for me I'm working, and she's been great at letting me stay somewhat rested.

Last week I had a two-day conference in Savannah, and we decided it would be fun for the three of us to head down to see the city. I've never been, and didn't get a good chance to really take a look around. Tiff took A.D. out on the town. They took a tour of the city, and although tired from the previously mentioned lack of sleep, they seemed to have a pretty good time.

After two days in Savannah, we stopped in Bluffton for a couple hours while I looked at a church that has a honeybee infestation. It's on the historic register, but that's another story... After that, we drove due north up to the Isle of Palms for a couple days, where we rented a condo and met my parents, who were down from D.C.

After a little fishing, and a lot of shopping (more for Tiff and A.D. than for me), we all headed back up to Greenville to unwind.

Here are a few photos from the past few weeks...

A.D sporting the fauxhawk.

Asleep on Daddy's chest.

First dip in the Atlantic. It was cold.

We got a new beer-holder... It came with a free baby.

They grow up so fast...

It's hard to believe that the little man is already one month old. But if you ask us any morning, we'll tell you that we definitely feel like we haven't slept in about a month.

All in all, everything is going well. A.D. has been wanting to stay up all night, which seems pretty normal as I talk with anyone that has a kid or two. He has a little reflux, but it's nothing that a little Zantac can't handle. And now he has some baby acne. He better get used to it, since he's my son.

Other than that little stuff, he's a really good baby. He's perfectly happy sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling fan. We try to go for a walk every evening to get him used to the outside, and it seems to be helping Tiff's cabin fever.

Here are photos of the famous one-month-old...

Sunday Photo Goodness...

Top 10 things to do at 3:30 AM...

10. Watch Russia vs Hungary ladies Team Handball in HD. (Russia won)

9. Consider ordering the Clorox Greenworks surface cleaner because the dude with the English accent sounds so damn smart.

8. Burp the baby.

7. Think to yourself... "Is there something on my neck? I swear something is crawling on me, but I'm holding a baby and if I move he will wake up... Crap."

6. Clip your toenails.

5. Try to jam a pacifier in the baby's mouth, hoping it will put him to sleep until noon.

4. Polish off the rest of the Chinese food in the fridge.

3. Hum Beatles songs, but then argue with yourself about whether Paul or John sung "Ruby Tuesday." (At that time, Mick wasn't even an option)

2. Walk the baby in circles around the house, guided only by nightlights.

1. Play the game "Change the baby's diaper without him waking up." Double bonus points if he doesn't pee all over you. (I lost)

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I guess it's fair to say we are having some minor sleeping issues. Tiffany took him to the pediatrician today and they confirmed our suspicions that he has acid reflux.

Hopefully he'll sleep better tonight so I can dream about large handball-playing Russian women cleaning my house with environmentally friendly Clorox while humming "Ruby Tuesday."

I can't wait.

Lesson from Dad: How to be Photogenic...

I'm starting a new blog segment called Lessons from Dad, an incredible learning tool for A.D. (and any other babies out there that might be surfing the web) that will help him get through life.

This lesson is titled How to be Photogenic...

As you will soon find out, people will randomly take pictures of you without your prior knowledge. To be able to handle such conditions, you need to make sure you are always prepared. In order to do so, you need to become familiar with the Smug-Goofy-Cheesy-Grin (SGCG) look.

In order to properly execute the SGCG, you must properly do the following:

1. Look smarmy. That's right, show some swagger.

2. Raise your eyebrows. Let the camera know you are a little excited, but not so much you look surprised. Imagine pointing at the camera and saying "heyyyyyyy"

3. Turn whatever you are holding (beer, hedge clippers, Rick Astley tape, baby, etc.) toward the camera.

4. Showing teeth is optional.

And since you're a baby and pictures help you learn, Figure 1 (below) shows just how photogenic your daddy is (note the perfectly executed SGCG).

Wide Awake Baby...

A.D. isn't awake very often. And when he is, it's not for very long.

Here is evidence that he does wake up every once in a while.

How It All Went Down...

Note: I wrote this blog last week, but for some reason didn't post it. Since today is Tiff's original due date, I decided to dig it up...

One of the first things I learned about expecting a kid is that everyone wants to share their pregnancy and labor horror stories with you. They tell you how horrible every facet of the pregnancy was for them, how long and grueling the labor was, or how incredibly long their pregnancy went... Well I'm not going to do that. Instead, since A.D. came about a week and a half early and I didn't really share how everything went, you'll get our (fairly easy to stomach) story.

On the evening of August 3rd, Tiff and I went to dinner with Ben & Becky at Chicora Alley in downtown Greenville. After plowing down some good food, and some ice cream for dessert, we headed home. Both of us were tired, so we crashed early.

At about midnight, Tiff woke up and waddled to my side of the bed to announce that her water broke. I think I said "Really?" I don't really remember.

So we gathered up the previously mentioned HCWHTHTTH bag, fed the cat, grabbed the iPod, watered a couple plants, vacuumed the house, churned some butter, reenacted the Battle of Gettysburg, and finally headed to the hospital.

There were two older (I used "older" loosely) triage nurses (I use "nurse" loosely) waiting for us in the labor and delivery area of the hospital. I'll call them Gladys and Mabel. Gladys was my favorite. (Note: Some glaciers move at an average speed of 3 feet per day... Gladys moved slower.)

Gladys: "What happened?"

Tiffany: "I think my water broke."

(cue akward pause and crickets chirping in the background)

Gladys: "Are you sure?"

Tiffany: "Pretty sure."

Gladys blinks and walks out of the room.

Gladys comes back in the room. "Was it clear?"

Tiffany: "Yes."

Gladys: "Did it have an odor"

Tim gags a little bit at the thought of bending over and smelling it...

Tiffany: "No."

Gladys lumbers back out of the room, and sends in Mabel for reinforcements...

Apparently Gladys and Mabel don't talk amongst each other, because Mabel asked us all the same questions. Then, Mabel got some magical litmus-like paper and confirmed that Tiff's water had in fact broke. They admitted us into the Labor & Delivery room at about 1:30 AM. It turns out she was having contractions for a while before that, but didn't feel them much.

We sat around in the room until about 6 AM or so until they finally decided to hook Tiff up to Pitocin to speed things along. Prior to going to the hospital, Tiff decided that she would try to go through the whole thing naturally. By naturally, she was hoping not to need an epidural or any other pain medicine. (Any of you ladies out there with kids can stop laughing now...)

We played a couple hands of Gin.

Once the Pitocin kicked in Tiff started to feel the contractions, her head spun around like Linda Blair's, and I think she squeezed (squoze?) my hand so hard that she might have broke a couple of my bones... At this point, we decided an epidural was probably a good idea.

The epidural guy (that's his official name, I think) rolled in and started working on Tiff's back. I was standing up in front of her, holding on to her hands, and translating Tiff's grunts into when she was having contractions for the doctor. It took him about an hour and 15 mins to get the epidural right. Tiff was exhausted with the whole thing, and I was about to pass out from standing up the whole time and from lack of food.

I went down to the Cafeteria and grabbed luke-warm chicken (cat?) fingers. By the time I got back upstairs, they were doing the leg-into-stirrups thing and telling Tiff she was about ready to push. I made sure to stay above the equator the whole time.

After about 30 tiring mins of pushing, and about 15 1/2 hours after arriving at the hospital, little A.D. was born at 2:01 PM. Just to piss off his mom, he came out with his arm up above his head (and his head was cone-shaped... I was told that was normal).

Tiffany did great. We were both tired, but secretly I was really concerned about having a little conehead kid running around out there.

Overall, it's not a horror story at all. The epidural could have taken about an hour shorter, but that's it. So any of you out there who are getting really freaked out about the whole process, just think of Baird...Cubed.

Things We Have Learned...

Now that A.D. is a week old, and we're parenting experts, there are quite a few things we have learned that we'd like to share with you future first-time parents.

1) Newborn poop is weird... very weird. In the early days, it is a mix of black-green silly-putty slime-tar fudge-goo (I'm proud of that description) that pretty much doesn't wipe off. Ever. The good thing is that is doesn't stink, which (unfortunately for me) means I get to spare you more fun adjectives. But then you learn that in the next few days it is no longer black, and the stink is there to stay.

2) You think, going in to the whole having a baby thing, that you have a general idea of how to change a diaper. People tell you all about lifting up the legs so you can wipe the previously mentioned impossible-to-remove tar from said butt. Then they tell you all about putting the diaper back on so it fits. And they even tell you about little tricks so that the kid doesn't pee everywhere (that you learn later will happen anyways) while you are changing them. What they don't tell you is that as soon as you lay them on their back and the cold air hits their baby skin, they turn into a flailing, screaming, completely pissed-off spider-monkey.

3) Sleep is AWESOME.

4) Every once in a while, if you're paying attention, you'll see a newborn smile. And it really is the cutest thing ever. But then you learn that they don't smile randomly, but they smile when they are passing gas or filling their diaper... if you know what I mean. I haven't figured out if they smile because it feels good, or because they know how hilarious it is that you have to change them.

These are just a few things we have learned, but we have loved every minute of it. Here's the famous week-old baby.

A.D. at Home...

The First Photos of Many...

6 Hours Old...

Arrival...

Last night just after midnight, Tiff and I made a trip to the hospital after her water broke. After we convinced the on-call nurses she was in fact in labor, they admitted us into the hospital.

It was slow going for a while, but long story short, we had A.D. at 2:01PM. He weighed 5 pounds, 13 ounces, and was 19 1/2 inches long. Both Tiffany and the baby did great, and are healthy.

We have a bunch of photos of the new little man, but it's dark in the room right now (he and Tiff are sleeping) and I can't find the transfer cord for the camera. So we'll post them tomorrow.

Now I'm going to try to sleep.

-- Tim

EDIT: A.D. is his initials, and will be his official Blog name. We'll send out emails and other forms of announcements with his full name a little later.

Around the House...

Here are a few shots around the house (while things are organized) before the demolition man arrives...










More on this last one later...

Much Needed Update...

Yeah, sorry that I haven't given a good update... I'm still recovering from building the crib.

We have about 3 weeks to go if Tiff goes full term. So far she still feels pretty good. And she still likes Tim, so that's a good thing too.

In the last week we have finished the room, had an appointment with the pediatrician, completed the application for the day-care, and put the car-seat bases into both of our cars. Just a little planning ahead, people. We've also started building Tiff's emergency "holy crap we have to head to the hospital" bag. It is chock full of loose clothing for her, baby socks for the kid, and a little cooler big enough for a six-pack for me.

So since we're getting close enough to almost get into freak-out mode, I figure I'll take guesses (Mayse style) of the date, time, weight, length, and hair color of the baby. I was going to have you guess eye color, but I just learned that all newborns have blue eyes... who knew? (I still doubt the claim, but haven't stolen enought babies from the hospital to prove it otherwise)

So there's the update. Tiff has appointments once a week from now on, and I'll keep updating as we go along. If a little gooey kid pops out before then, we'll let you know immediately.

-- Tim

How to Build a Crib...

Now that we all know how to buy a crib, the next step is putting the thing together. The first step is hauling the many pieces up to the baby room.

-- Actually, to back up, the first step is jamming all of the baby furniture into the back of an F-150 and rolling along I-85 at 45mph with it all stacked up in the back like Jed Clampett. We did that yesterday, so here we are now --


The first thing I did was look for the instructions... not because I needed them, but to see if I could do them in Chinese. It's a fun little game I play.


Thankfully, I quickly found the crumpled up mass of paper known as the instructions. BUT, they were fake instructions. So I kept searching.


Once I finally found the instructions, I noticed they were in English. Disappointing I guess. I decided to read the instructions anyways, just to make sure I would have built the bed right... which I would have.


For some reason I needed an allen wrench, some cotton string, and a putter.

Weird.


The string didn't prove as effective as the bolts and wing-nuts did. But it did its job.


Once the crib was about complete, I needed to check to see if the floor was level. So that's what the putter was for.


Here's the assembled bed on the Plane Wall. I'll post pics of the finished room once we get it completed.