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Delivery Disasters

The Epitome of Parenting: When the delivery guys asked where to setup the treadmill, I said, "In the family room, right next to the Sesame Street kitchen." Totally normal.

The Epitome of Parenting: When the delivery guys asked where to setup the treadmill, I said, “In the family room, right next to the Sesame Street kitchen.” Totally normal.

For my birthday, my husband purchased me a treadmill. I know what you’re thinking. Some women might find this offensive, like maybe he’s trying to hint that I should get my ass back in shape. But don’t worry – I asked for it. Thank God, he spent the extra cash for delivery and assembly so that we don’t have to attempt this task on our own. We’ve already built enough equipment (crip, infant swing, glider, etc.) to know that these kinds of tasks can seriously damage a marriage. We are both entirely capable of doing it on our own, however men and women are just not supposed to assemble things together. Probably because women like to read the directions and men think they’re smart enough to wing it. But, I digress, today was the scheduled delivery day for my new treadmill.

On Mondays, I’m off from work and my son and I are home alone together. If you have a toddler and you spend 10-12 hours alone with them regularly, then you know that playing with shape sorters and mega blocks gets tiring after a certain length of time. I can only pretend to be interested in reading a book called “Roadwork” over and over and over and over again for about 45 minutes before I have to take a break and send my husband a text message to remind me that there are other adults in the world. At the same time, I’m sure my son gets tired of looking at my face after 12 hours, too. Sometimes when I get him up from nap, he looks at me like, “You? Again? Where the hell is Daddy?”

In order to avoid losing our sanity, I try to make lots of plans for the days that we are home together. We attend story time at the library in the morning and we schedule play dates in the afternoon.  Unfortunately, because of the treadmill delivery today, we couldn’t make any definite plans since I wasn’t sure what time they were coming. I find it very annoying that you have to wait until the morning of a delivery to have ANY idea of when to expect these people. Needless to say, we had to skip story time because I was afraid we’d miss them. Finally, around 11:30, the guys called to let me know they’d be at my house within the hour.

Clearly, whoever decided that scheduling a four hour block of time for a delivery is not a stay at home mother. First of all, we need to leave the house!! Sitting around for four hours, especially on a day when the weather isn’t nice enough for me to take the baby outside, is torture. Secondly, you’re going to show up at my house at exactly the same time that my son goes down for a nap? Do you realize how detrimental this is to my day??? I can’t take the baby upstairs for his nap until the delivery guys show up because the doorbell/dog barking will wake him up, but I can’t let him nap too late in the day because he’ll be up all night. It’s a science, people. And lastly, why is it that delivery men get a FOUR HOUR time frame to show up for their appointments??? If I could schedule all of my appointments like that, my life would be a hell of a lot easier. Like, hey doctor, I’ll be at my annual exam anytime between 9:00am and 12:00pm, whenever it’s convenient for me to get out of my house today. Maybe I’ll tell my boss that I’ll call him tomorrow morning to let him know what time frame I’ll be showing up for work, anywhere from 10:00am to 2:00pm, depending on how much wine I drink tonight.

Fortunately, the guys showed up and were able to build the treadmill while I put my son down for a nap. I’m actually pretty impressed that they were able to get out without waking him up, so maybe today isn’t a total disaster after all. And on that note, now that I have absolutely no excuse, I should probably get off my computer and get my ass on that treadmill before the baby wakes up.

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