That's What I Get For Thinking

I'm a planner.  A type-A planner.  I like spontaneity, so long as the other person in the mix has taken care of all the other stuff.  N is constantly telling me I need to relax.  Usually all I hear is "blah blah blah" because I'm busy cleaning or planning.

One thing we're in the process of planning is upgrading Zoe's room to a toddler room.  Gone are the days of the crib and changing table.  This girl is potty trained and ready for a real bed.  How do I know she's ready?  She mentions a big girl bed 752 times a day.  Then comes the "can I, can I?"

I found some really cute bedding at Pottery Barn Kids that I just couldn't live without.  Then my planner mind started working.  If we did the toddler bed and Zoe got sick, it would be really hard to put her to bed because I couldn't hold her like she likes.  If we did the toddler bed and she just wouldn't fall asleep, I couldn't lay in the bed with her because let's face it, I'm not toddler size.

What sealed the deal was my lack of understanding with the whole toddler bed thing.  The rail that turns our crib into a toddler bed was $100 before taxes and before shipping.  In my planner mind, if we just spent another hundred or so we could have a new twin bed that could carry her much farther before needing something new.  Not to mention the twin bedding is SO.MUCH.CUTER than the toddler bed size. 

Then the question becomes how do you pay for a total room makeover?  Actually that's more N's question.  He knows when I start to plan, it means that some money will be spent. 

You sell your old stuff.  I posted some things to Craigslist this weekend.  Because I have no idea if my items would sell, I figured I'd give myself a week before the new bed came and see what kind of interest the baby stuff would generate.

Yeah, it all sold in 4 hours.

All of it.

Like Zoe no longer has a quilt and I need to convince the people that want the crib that if they can wait until Saturday we'll deliver.  Because my daughter is still sleeping in it.

That's what I get for thinking my plan will work out.  God has a way of teaching me that planning means nothing.  He's the only planner.  I think he likes to watch me sweat a little when I try to over plan.

Like when I'm trying to figure out where Zoe will sleep for another week.