Thursday is my next doctor's appointment. It's annoying to me that I am going every two weeks but it happens to fall on odd weeks (yep I'm weird). Thursday will be week 31. Nothing exciting is going to happen this week at the doctor- no blood draws or nasty sugar drinks- just weighed and measured like a horse going to auction.
I seem to be getting a little anxious or twitchy. I keep wanting to do things. Paint the nursery. Put up curtains. Decorate. Rearrange the furniture. Clean.
I feel like because I am not doing anything "productive" (painting is not productive- the baby doesn't give a shit if his walls are blue or white) that I am going to be totally unprepared for when the baby arrives.
Truth be told- I'm solid on prepared. I have everything I need and probably a bunch of stuff I don't. I've been reading What To Expect The First Year and plowed through the first two sections of newborn and first month. I'm hesitant to read further, since the book itself isn't very long and also because I don't need to know the developmental milestones my child will be expected to hit at age 6 months when he is not even out of the womb yet.
I keep talking to myself and trying to get myself to think logically. Right now I'm a hormone fueled fire that wants to engulf everything... but I gotta keep in mind that a small fire can heat the pot of chili just as well. More fire doesn't necessarily mean better results. I don't know wtf was up with that analogy. But now I'm hungry for chili.
Brian suggested I should write out a master to-do list. Everything we still need to accomplish in the next 9 weeks to get ready for the baby, and then start breaking it all down into weekly and daily chunks.
My brother in law came over last night to catch up with us. He's been super busy with things and it's good to catch up with him. He's getting excited for the baby as well (he doesn't emote much, so it's hard to tell at times) but he agreed whole-heartily and readily to paint the nursery with Brian :) We talked about it last night and we decided, since our lease is up in March and moving with a 3 month old was probably not the best thing in the world, we were going to stay one more year here.
It sucks. Every year when our lease is up we are bound and determined to move, yet we really like our apartment complex as a whole. We love our current building and our current neighbors. No one bothers us. No one bothers anyone. We are on friendly "hey how's it going" terms and that's the extent of the conversations. We do want to move and we want to move closer to my family.... but it's just been a matter of timing and finances. Ah well. 18 months left to figure it all out.
I think the reason I am most anxious and twitchy is because I am reading all of these blogs lately where ladies have given birth to their children (a lot of them are new moms) and the babies are so precious. I guess I take after my dad- he thinks newborns are the most beautiful, while my mom gets more excited about babies when they can smile and be a little more interactive.
I cry when I see pictures of my friend's baby. I cry when I look at blogger babies. I look at the ultra sound pictures and try and imagine what features Drake has from me and what ones he's got from Brian. Right now, I think he's got Brian's lips. LOL I'm weird, I know.
The logical and the emotional are fighting for first place all the time. One minute I'm fine and "oh we've got plenty of time" the next I'm all like "WTF why is nothing done?!?! The freezer isn't stuffed full of meals what will we eat after the baby gets here!!!??" So yeah, it's been great. Max and Brian are loving it. They think I am insane. And I am, at times. Luckily, I have started to realize when an episode is coming on and can usually negate it completely or at least partially diffuse it. Brian's been amazing and understanding of it all. He keeps telling me that the only thing he knew about pregnancy before we got pregnant, was that pregnant women were a little crazy. Hahaha. Fair enough.
I'm off to go write out this master list. Hopefully it doesn't become too long or annoying. Sigh.