Time is flying. And standing still. All at the same time. Yes, I’m in the midst of that beautiful stage of pregnancy when I’ve started to daydream about buttoning my own pants (ditching the elastic waistbands) and of course holding the dear child who has (lovingly) been kicking me for weeks.
Except that I’m not. Ready that is. Because there is so much to do. Yes, yes – I realize the irony in all of this. I have been so casual throughout this pregnancy because there wasn’t anything to do to get ready for baby. After all, this is our third boy – it’s not like we’re lacking anything boy related. So there wasn’t anything to do per say.
Until the nesting kicked in. Suddenly all of the doors and doorknobs need to be scrubbed. And way too much thought has been put into the best way to clean/dust all of the window blinds throughout the house.
And a “to-do” list appeared out of the blue. Filled with only logical and necessary action items (according to a pregnant woman who is slightly delirious and cranky due to the excessive summer heat.)
I’ve determined that I really don’t like the coffee table in our family room. Certainly Henry should have some bookshelves in his room. The garage suddenly needs new shelving (and while we’re at it, lets get some new storage bins and organize everything in them.) And that yes, somehow (or for some reason) this must be taken care of before baby arrives.
Then, while going through the baby clothes/gear/toys/whatever, it becomes necessary to weed out the things that you a) never really liked b) never used (three boppy’s?) or c) never were a hit with the kids, but for some reason they stuck around. And naturally the “Goodwill” pile grows rapidly. And then it hits you – oh yeah – we should probably get a second crib, a smaller double stroller for the car (but which one…), a dresser for the little boys room (Charlie and baby) because after determining that yes – we do indeed have more than enough clothes for this little bundle of joy – we don’t have a place to put them.
Then there is the slight possibility that your growing “to-do” (to-buy?) list causes your husband to briefly panic.
We are (OK, I am) in the process of nesting and it’s starting to get messy. (Of course I do have two great “helpers.”) It may not be logical, but it’s a great way to get things done.
The belly shot. In a real maternity shirt – you know the type. I swore I would wait until the bitter end to break this one out. Whatever.