Earlier this week I posted some photos of Max’s changing table on my Instagram Stories, and I had a few questions about where I got various things – which was nice, really, because it made me feel like I was at least performing some kind of public service, as opposed to just taking photos of a tissue holder, because that’s my life now, you know?
That pretty much IS my life now, though, and, having wowed my Instagram followers with the shock revelation that you can keep tissues in a box (As opposed to, like, balancing them on the end of your nose or something?), I though, why stop there, Amber? You’re on a roll here, kid – why not take your show on the road, and bring that tissue box to a wider audience? Tissues are for everyone, after all, so I decided to do a quick – by which I mean “lengthy” – post about Max’s changing table organisation… even although I die a little bit inside every single time I attempt to take photos of white objects against a white backdrop, in approximately zero light. (AND YET I KEEP ON TRYING. Y THO?)
Anyway. I was talking about tissue boxes, so here ya go:this one from eBay, and – BREAKING NEWS! – I also have its smaller brother in the livingroom. It was one of those middle-of-the-night/early morning purchases that seem like a good idea when you’re up feeding the baby, and you suddenly start fixating on that shabby looking box of tissues in front of you. “Why, I bet I could turn that tissue box’s life around!” you think to yourself, through a fug of sleeplessness. “I could do it using the medium of a white plastic box with a wooden lid!” And then, the next thing you know, you’re opening the door to a delivery of two fancy-schmancy tissue boxes, and also a bottle of £20 hand wash for the downstairs bathroom, because when you went to wash your hands earlier, it suddenly occurred to you that the one thing that would make 4am bearable would be some posh handwash. (SPOILER ALERT: it doesn’t. Like, it’s JUST handwash, settle down…)
(I was actually planning a post called ‘Things I Bought at 5am’, but then I realised it would be just the tissue boxes, and then 543 plastic storage boxes for the kitchen. That post will be up next week sometime – or as soon as the final plastic box arrives. Really wish I was kidding about this, totally am not…)Funkybox, and they sell a ton of really useful storage-type stuff. Funky boxes, you might even say. I’ll be honest, this box seemed like a good idea at the time, but while it definitely looks better than just the bag of wipes themselves (Which TOTALLY don’t go with the decor in here, really. WILL NO ONE THINK OF THE BLOGGERS?), it’s not all that, really. Like, it’s just a plastic box that dispenses wipes, and honestly, I’m pretty sure I ordered the one with stars rather than the one with hearts, but it took such a long time to arrive (Private eBay seller, no reflection on the brand) that I’d actually forgotten I’d even bought it, tbh. I’m glad I did, mind you, because until then I’d just been using the wipes in the bag they came in, like a freaking PEASANT or something, but still. I’m underwhelmed, guys. It could’ve been so beautiful, but instead it was just a plastic tub with wipes inside it, and WHAT HAS BECOME OF MY LIFE, PEOPLE? Did I REALLY just write an entire paragraph about a plastic tub? Why are the photos so dark? And what became of my promise that this would be a “quick” post? Is it time for bed yet?
OK, let’s just get through the rest of this as quickly as we can, shall we?
The Miffy night light is by Mr Maria, and it’s my life’s ambition to get the extra large size, too (Er, for Max, you understand. FOR MAX.), but Terry won’t let me. Not even when I play the “but I carried your child for 9 months” card. Why does he hate me, I wonder? (In fairness, the XL one IS really expensive. What price happiness, though, I ask you?)
The little goose teething toy, meanwhile, is Gertie the Good Goose.* Max isn’t teething yet, but he thinks Gertie is hilarious, and he does enjoy having a good chew, so she’s a handy distraction sometimes when I’m changing him after a particularly nasty… I’m just going to leave that sentence hanging, actually. You’re welcome.
(I mean, Max thought it was hilarious when he peed on his vest last week, too, so I wouldn’t take his opinion as gospel or anything. We do like Gertie, though.)
Finally, the little storage bag is from H&M: I have a few of these dotted around the house and I use them to round up and store pacifiers, which have a way of getting EVERYWHERE. Also, we have approximately 938 of the things, but we can never find one when we need it, so this seemed like a good solution – and, indeed, would have been if we hadn’t just decided to continue storing pacifiers under the kitchen table and down the sides of the couch instead: WINNING.
As for the interior of the table, meanwhile – because HAHA, AS IF I’d be finished with this post so soon! – the top drawer is used to store bibs, burp cloths and nappies, and is organised using my beloved Ikea Skubb boxes. I just can’t stop buying them, guys. Seriously, I buy a set every time I go to IKEA (And visiting IKEA is a day out for me, so I do it A LOT…), and I’m still nowhere near having enough of them. HOW?
(These burp cloths were brand new when this photo was taken, following a mysterious Washing Machine Incident in which a number of the existing ones had to be replaced. I’m pretty sure they’re breeding, though, because we HAD 600, I binned 500 and now we have about 800. It’s one of the great mysteries of our time, really.)
The bottom drawer is also organised using Skubb boxes, and is where I keep what I’m sure Max would call his “basics”, were he a fashion blogger. So, sleepsuits, vests and socks, basically. His “real” clothes all live in the closet in his room, and I should probably point out that, thanks to his reflux, at least 50% of his sleepsuits and vests are in the wash at any given time, which helps keep this drawer tidy, I guess…
As for the other side of the cabinet, though, it’s NOT quite so neat:
Yeah. I use it to store the Things That Aren’t Pretty. Extra nappies. Wipes still in their regular bag, not their “fun” plastic container. 50,000 cotton wool pads. All of the things that’ll ruin your life if you don’t find the appropriate plastic storage containers to put them in, basically. Thankfully, though, I think I’ve managed to find the storage I need (The two boxes in this side of the table are Ikea’s finest…), so I hope you enjoyed this quick tour of Max’s changing table as much as he enjoyed watching me write this post:
Or, ideally a little bit more than that…