This last week Nick had a Sunday-Monday off, so naturally we did what was best and went when everyone else would be going...on Sunday. Why I thought this was a great idea, I'll never know. I don't like crowds in general, sometimes they freak me out and I feel like I have to leave RIGHT NOW! and I feel like, as a whole, people just forget common sense and courtesy and any sense of traffic and direction when they get to Ikea. Multiply all of this by infinity when this pregnant chick gets hungry.
I can say I made an honest effort. We had a leisurely morning; slept in, made breakfast, watched an episode of '24,' you know, the usual. We had kinda talked about going so we showered, got dressed and left. As we were leaving I had a faint undertone of warning in my head that maybe I should eat something, just as a precaution. I quickly stomped out that little voice and took attitude with myself that I would be just fine...I'd just had breakfast.
I didn't feel hungry at all, but in reality, that breakfast had been about two hours prior. Now, if I don't eat every two to three hours, I think I've mentioned before how I turn in to psycho-pregnant-lady-who-will-kill-you-just-for-making-a-joke. We pulled into the parking lot and thought "Crap! Bad idea to come on a Sunday!" Oh well, we'll make the best of it and really my mind frame was that I would just relax, enjoy myself and do the pregnant stroll through everything (Nick had been warned this would be the case.)
My amazing husband found one of the best parking spots available, only four spaces from the door! We walk in and I grab a yellow bag (despite grabbing our blue one at home and washing it off, we still forgot it!) Nick questions me and says "We NEVER use one of those upstairs." Cue flash anger and defenses. "Are you kidding me?!? We ALWAYS do! For candles, or light bulbs are random little stuff we see upstairs!" Note: That has really only happened approx. three times, but it seemed like it was a good idea to have. Like most good husband, he drops it and lets me carry the bag around. We get maybe ten feet and he tries to hold my hand. Naturally it's the side of my body that the giant bag is slung around and I exasperatingly and loosely intertwine my fingers with his. This last MAYBE five seconds before I let go and, with all the outward frustration I can contain, switch the bag to the opposite shoulder. He goes to grab my hand again and I semi-roll my eyes like "What are you doing?!?" He calmly (mostly) explains he's just trying to hold his wife's hand, isn't that alright? Ugg, fine.
My favorite part about going through Ikea is to look at all the rooms and how they have put them together and to imagine my own house looking that wide-open and beautiful. Poor Nick happened to be on my left and it was difficult for me to look, especially since he more enjoys the gadgets and actual merchandise downstairs. I was trying to speed up, slow down, crane my neck around to see something just as we passed it. But it was not working. On top of it all, the hoards of other people around found it appropriate to come to a dead stop right in front of us, wait until we were right next to them to start walking with their giant full cart (which still confuses me, we're still in the first showcase, how is your cart so full???) or speed walk right behind us trying, quite unsuccessfully, to pass two groups of people. I got annoyed with the yellow bag that I so stubbornly was carrying and tried to shove it into the side of one of the couches. I'm sure I looked like a small child throwing a fit. So I angrily looked and found a bag holder I could toss it in to.
At this point we're about halfway through the first showcase and Nick leans in to tell me that, whenever I'm ready, just let him and know and we can stop and get some food. Insert wave of emotions with an internal monologue of "What? You think I need a reminder that we need food? Are you saying I clearly need something because you can see waves or seething red radiating out of my body? Oh my gosh, I feel horrible for thinking this way towards my husband! He loves me so much and is just trying to help! Or wait, maybe he needs food and is getting grumpy? No, it's definitely me. Gosh, who am I? Why do I get like this so bad?!? It's like one minute I'm fine and perfectly happy and the next minute I'm as bad as those reality tv girls with horrible attitudes." Insert tears of guilt.
I'm sure Nick saw all of that play out on my face and his response is just a sweet "Honey, would you like to go get us a table and sit down while I grab the food for us?" I still tear up when I think of the everlasting patience he has had with me through this whole process. He brings me the most delicious plate of Swedish meatballs, incredible lingonberry sauce and gravy. (side note: we learned you can get steamed veggies instead of mashed potatoes, we will definitely substitute next time, because I don't really like their mashed taters.) I had sat there waiting for him with tears streaming down my face but had recovered by the time he sat down. I'm sure the other people sitting around were a combination of concerned, annoyed and oblivious.
I apologized for how I acted, said I felt like he was blocking my view of the rooms and that is my favorite part and I felt like he was just trying to hurry us a long when all I really wanted was some time to get inspired for our house. He laughed at me and reassured me that he wasn't trying to do any of that and that we could start over from the beginning, with me closest to the rooms so if I wanted to stop I could. I swear, his amazingness and love never stops!
We were able to continue on with our trip, have fun, laugh and smile and get some great ideas for the house with a renewed sense that we made the right decision that it will all work out just fine. People were still dumb, but our minds were working together and we navigated the crowds without incident and made it through. Karyanna is so lucky to have Nick as her Daddy! And I am so lucky to have him as an example of how we work in this family!
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