We Pay Just As Much Attention to What's Her Face

So, I have been getting crap from my dear friends Melissa and Nikki ever since Jaycee was in utero about me not exactly being on top of my game prior to her arrival. They actually came to my house days (literally less than a week) before my scheduled c-section to make sure Jaycee's nursery was in order. Not only was Jaycee my third child, but also our first girl.

What they found when they arrived at my house were sacks of shower gifts that had yet to be unpacked, clothes that still had tags on them and had yet to be washed (in Dreft they obsessed!) and a dear friend who had no idea how unprepared she actually was. It was not until after they left that I felt a weight being lifted off my shoulders. Ahhhh...now the nursery seemed perfect.

Fast forward 11 months. Jaycee is here and is adjusting to her new family. How do I accurately describe her parents? Thrifty, practical, tight wads, penny pinchers, resourceful, ridiculously conservative with the cash...all of these adjectives do Ryan and I justice. Case in point: I BEGGED Ryan to see the light and pony up for a new crib mattress before our little girl entered the world. Ryan objected and stood firm on his position that Jaycee would sleep perfectly fine on the same mattress that her now 7- and 5-year old brothers had slept on when they were babies.

Me: But, seriously, that thing has been in our garage for years.

Ryan: Who cares. It's fine.
Me: What are we talking about, really? Thirty bucks max?

Ryan: No need to spend $30 when we already have an acceptable crib mattress in our possession.

Me: But, honestly, we have propped that up against our tree in the back yard the past two winters to protect the boys from sledding accidents.

Ryan: It still serves its purpose.

Me: What if it has mold or something on the outside of it?

Ryan: I'll wipe it down.

Me: Can you really sleep OK at night knowing that your new precious baby girl is lying on that thing?

Ryan: Yep. And so will she.

I let him win that argument. But, last week, I finally threw up the white flag and admitted to myself that my friends are right. We don't exactly supervise and protect Jaycee as much as we did for our boys. Don't get me wrong...she is spoiled rotten and will likely get away with murder for the rest of her life...but behold the straw that finally broke the camel's back.

I walked into Jaycee's room a few weeks back and I saw a shiny metal object on the floor. Giving myself a pat on the back for finding it before she choked on it, I examined it more closely and found that it was a bolt screw from somewhere on her crib. Rewind to when Owen was a child, I would have immediately bent down to the floor and hunted down the location from which it came.

Then, about a few days later, what do you know? Another one of those damn bolt screws was lying there on her carpet. And this time it had one of those washer things (pretty sure that was broken) next to it. I marched it over to the kitchen counter and slammed it down next to the first one, huffing at my husband the entire time, because I told Ryan about the first one and he simply ignored it. Rewind to when Austin was a child, I would have NEVER rested until that crib was safe and secure.

So yesterday rolls around and I happen to stumble upon those two bolt screws and the washer on the kitchen counter. What in the hell have we become and how did we get here? Ryan and I have transformed from the excited, expectant parents who regularly attended classes to learn how to care and nuture our newborn to two, tired sorry excuses for human beings who really should not be held accountable for caring for little human beings. Meanwhile, Jaycee just keeps bouncing up and down in that rickety old crib blissfully unaware of the conditions around her. Thank heavens we don't retain memories from when we were babies.

Note: We did end up fixing the crib. Don't want CPS at my door!