Family of Three, for the moment

39 weeks, 4 days. Still pregnant.

If I'm still pregnant when I go back to the doctor next week, they'll schedule me to be induced. Depending on when they schedule me, I could be in the hospital on Bub's birthday. That's all I can say about that without breaking down into tears.

I told my doctor that I was starting to panic about having an eleven pound baby. He told me that wasn't likely, but that nine or ten pounds was probably a given. Gee, thanks. Hold me.

I'm enjoying the last few days as a mom of one, trying to squeeze in one more fun activity with Bub, trying to get ahead on a few things. Rather than whine each day that I wake up still pregnant, I tackle one more small thing. The other day it was the linen closet in Bub's bathroom. Turns out we have 20 beach towels. TWENTY! Two of them we had hijacked from my parents house, so those were returned. Three were old and tatty, so those went in the trash. We're left with fifteen beach towels. FIFTEEN! There are three of us! I mean, even if we're accounting for one or two sets being in the wash at any given time, that's far more beach towels than we need. I'm not sure what the solution is as it seems wasteful to throw perfectly good towels in the trash. I'm going to end up on Hoarders, aren't I?

Meanwhile, Bub seems to be growing and learning at an alarming rate. He's mastered all of his uppercase letters and most lowercase letters. He knows all of the sounds and has started sounding out words. Um, what?! He's counting backward from five, and when he was getting impatient during his hair cut yesterday, he told the woman, "Five more cuts," and then proceeded to count them off for her. "Five more, four more.... all done!"

If anyone has any ideas how to translate this love of letters and numbers into a love of using the potty, I'm all ears.

It's this, then back to nesting

*Probably another week or two, he told me yesterday, but you never know. Anything can happen. So, still pregnant. And cranky. And mildly, irrationally, annoyed with my doctor. I don't know if I expected him to wave his magic labor wand and make things happen, or what, but I was really, really hoping to be well on my way to having a baby. Husband even asked that I put the hospital bags in my car yesterday, just in case. I did, then made him unload them because I was annoyed. Again, irrationally.

*I discovered that if I prop my pillows just so, I can lay on my side while angled back on the pillows, thus giving myself the illusion of sleeping on my back, without any of the detrimental oxygen deprivation.

*My parents are back in the country and I've handed over the bedding negotiations to my mom, because I can't handle the disappointment anymore. I told her there's really no rush as to when we actually get it, since I'm never actually going to have a baby.

*I had my first glimpse into sibling jealousy last night when friends asked to see the (unfinished - bedding GAH) nursery and Bub was all, "Hey guys, you want to see my room, come on, come see my room. This is my baby sister's room and my room is over dere!"

*We discovered that there is a Clifford MOVIE available for live streaming on Netflix. Bub is in heaven and so am I, a little.

*Yesterday, I took Bub to my mom's so she could watch him during my doctor appointment. Sometimes it's just easier to take him with me, but now that we're into the "pants off" appointments, I prefer to go alone. When we came over the hill and could see the ocean he excitedly told me that he would be going to the beach with grandma. Sorry buddy, no beach today. It's rainy. Not one to be deterred he said, "That's okay mama, I'll just take my umbrella to da beach." I love that kid.

*I do not understand the new Huggies jeans diapers. There are just too many questions.

Just for the record...

...pregnancy and rational thinking are mutually exclusive.

I haven't made a single meal to freeze, but I did clean out Target's cleaning supply section today, lest we be without bathroom cleaner upon coming home from the hospital.

I have laundry of my own piling up, but I've folded and refolded teeny tiny baby clothes until they're in perfect little color-coordinated piles.

I've lined up hangers, arranged shoes by size, created baskets of burp clothes, blankets, accessories while the mess on my nightstand grows with wild abandon.

Today, I put in another follow up call about the baby bedding. The bedding that we ordered in JANUARY. The bedding that we were promised last week, even though last week came and went without a stitch of fabric to be seen. The bedding that only one person in the store seems to be aware of, but that person has limited time in the store. I finally got the right person on the phone today and was told that she had just spoken to the elusive "her" who is making this ridiculous bedding and she's pushing to get it done by this Friday so she can get it UPSed over to them.

Nevermind that the baby won't even sleep in her room for months. I want the room done. Done and cute and enjoyable. And I'm 100 years pregnant and am not to be messed with.

I didn't ask what this person had been doing with their time since January. I didn't ask about their questionable math skills where somehow 8-10 weeks means sixteen weeks and then some. I didn't say that this was unacceptable, because what is she to do? Conjure dust ruffles and useless pillows and quilts out of thin air? I just said, "Okaaaay, well, great. Thanks for letting me know. And, you'll call me when it's in?" Then I hung up and burst into tears.

This baby has everything she could possibly need and much, much more. She'll come home to a house full of love and all I can do is fixate on this damn bedding.

Blown Away

This package arrived last Monday from Erica, who is made of nothing but awesome.

I knew it was coming, but had NO IDEA what I was really in for.

Check it out.

Cute outfits in colors other than pink. Who knew? I'm a sucker for little girls in blue.



Shoes.
Shoes.
MORE shoes. I'm dying here. DYING.

More cuteness. Notice how having a girl means even a onesie has style? Also notice my attention seeking dog.

Sweet little hats and sweaters.


Teeny tiny onesies.

I think it's fair to say that this little girl has already been spoiled rotten. Thanks Erica and Maddie! We're so excited to meet the little girl who will put all of your awesome things to good use!

Conflicted

Yes and no.

I'm ready to be done, I really, really am. I'm ready to meet this baby girl, I'm ready to bring her home, I'm ready to be a family of four, I'm ready for Bub to see his sister for the first time. I'm ready.

But.

My parents are out of town until May 14. I'm still shocked that they actually left on vacation. They must be feeling awfully certain that this baby won't make an early appearance because I can't imagine my mom would willingly miss the birth of her second grandchild. I want them to be here because I can't imagine them not being here, but also because them not being here makes things difficult for me on a completely selfish level. And no, I'm not apologizing for those feelings.

The bedding that my mom so graciously had made for us will finally be ready this week. (We ordered in JANUARY.) We won't be able to pick it up until Saturday. Disregarding the fact that she won't even sleep in her room for months, I would still like the nursery to be finished.

Bub's birthday party is next weekend. I would, of course, like to be able to attend.

I have a few odds and ends to tie up. I need to order our double stroller. I would like the house to be a little more organized. I desperately need a pedicure.

Bub was born at 41 weeks and only because I was induced. According to my doctor, the odds say that, while anything can happen, it's likely that I'll be late, or close to late again. As much as the idea of being pregnant for another FIVE weeks makes me weepy, I would much prefer that to the alternative, if anyone's listening.