The baby is coming in six days and as you know by my previous blogs, my husband is “ready.” I of course am not ready at all. My complete focus has been on reorganizing the garage, getting the floors redone (more on that later because it relates to the push present blog), dusting all of the books in the house and putting those little sponge things on the bottom of every piece of furniture, lamp and artwork. What this has to do with birthing I have absolutely no idea but it all feels like a big emergency.
My husband on the other hand is preparing as well. He needs help “for the entire weekend, as early as possible” because he is going to be working. Clearly he must have been hired for a new position of which none of us has been informed because his work has involved introducing bus racing to the two year old, buying cases of Pampers and toilet paper (I am not implying anything but what’s with the clean tush obsession?) and complaining that he needs to “get some sleep too.” He needs to get some effing sleep? Try sleeping with the manatee strapped to your front and let me know how that goes. Second note to self: Then don’t let the toddler stay up until 11 eating cake. It does not make for a very good night sleep for anyone.
To round out the group, my oldest son is channeling all his new-sister-anxiety into educating the family on hemophilia and great white sharks. In the midst of losing my mind with the minutiae that these boys are flooding me with and while the rest of the country is focused on something so insignificant as the war in Iraq, I am trying to plan my wardrobe for the week. I have exactly two skirts left (that fit). One of them I could swear experienced a big rip somewhere while it was on my person but because it was so gathered I couldn’t find the hole. Lest I be flashing someone unexpected, I have tried to search for the tear but have given up. I can’t get down to only one pair of bottoms so I am pretending I look great. I think it’s time to check into the Ritz.
Photo courtesy of InfoVisual.Info
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