Nursery Nooks, Pedicures and Furniture Indecision.

As the days billow over from April and frolic into the springy folds of May, our days are speeding by with enthusiastic force. Dean is nestling cozily into his new gig as Noah and I fill our days with Itsy Bitsy Yoga, dancing to "Reggae Playground", attending "Babies On Blankets Wednesdays" and getting pedicures. Wait . . . pedicures, you ask? Okay, yes, it's a recently rediscovered pleasure that I engaged in with two other mommy-friends after our Tuesday "Mommy & Me" class this week. With babies in carriers strapped to our torsos, the three of us entertained and nursed our wee ones whilst we indulged in a delicious hot stone leg massage and toenail polishing foot pampering session. I will hold the memory of the hot, smooth rocks against my flabby and flaccid postpartum calf muscles near and dear to my heart's memory--it may possibly be the last time I take part in such a sinfully delicious act of self indulgence until Noah says his first word.

If you have recently viewed our Flickr photo site you will have seen a picture of Dean and I sitting on a love seat on the sidewalk. The photo's caption tells of a decision that Dean and I made to dispose of the old couch (the first piece of furniture that we ever purchased together--almost 8 years ago) in order to make room for Noah's play nook. At approximately midnight, my friend Candice aided Dean and I in hauling the small sofa from our living room to the curb where it was to be either ransacked by bums for the cushions (they use them for sleeping) or salvaged by thrifty hipsters. But--it didn't quite end with either of those scenarios. I uncomfortably wandered around the living room after its absence convincing myself that the aesthetic void its disposal had created was a small sacrifice for the play area that was to be created for little Noah. The next morning's light brought with it, however, the glaring realization that our living room looked haphazardly arranged and stark without it. With all of the furniture pushed to the outer perimeter of the huge room, it appeared as if we had just moved in as opposed to cozily habitating it for the last four years. So that afternoon, while Dean was at work, Noah and I mustered up enough courage to mosey out to the curb and see if our seat of love was still there, and if so, still intact. It was there--waiting for us to reclaim it and return it to its loving home. Noah and I pleaded with a neighbor to help us haul it back inside. So, now it sits where it used to. With the piano moved to another wall and a bookshelf relocated to the dining room, we've comfortably made a spot for Noah's nook in a sunny corner of our living room . . . right beside the love seat.