At some point in all of this baby craziness, you end up in Swedish hell.
I've been there several times in my life but never while pregnant.
It was time.
We needed a dresser, bookcase and some other miscellaneous items for Blackbird's nursery.
So off we go.
On a Sunday.
Whenever couples go to IKEA, they fight.
Between the crowds, the smell of Swedish meatballs in the air and the overwhelming sight of that warehouse, it just happens.
My wife and I are aware of this fact. And we get kind of excited. We wonder where the fight will be!
Or save it all for the warehouse?
We had a list (of course, do you know me?) and we made it through the store in 40 minutes with everything on our list (never happens). We stood in line and I realized, we haven't fought yet!
Then we hit the parking lot.
It was in the 80s. In the valley. With no shade.
Julia got the car and backed it in so she could load everything in the back. I can't lift anything so I wasn't much help.
We didn't necessarily "fight" but when she clipped my leg with her long warehouse cart, we were approaching the danger zone!
Living in the danger zone was a woman who literally ran into me with her cart.
Do you not see this belly?
So luckily we made it home all in one piece and both in the same car.
(Once we went to IKEA and after we finally got everything piled into my RAV4, there was no room for Julia to sit. So I drove home, grabbed her car and went back to pick her up. Whoops! Saved $99 on delivery though!)
But coming home to this adorable big brother made the IKEA worries disappear.