I’ve heard my share of jokes (especially at work) about the fact that it seems I’m always pregnant. I share the sentiment. But I’ve decided that this recent pregnancy is taking it a bit far. I know that the ultrasound said the due date isn’t for another week (my calculations were closer to this past weekend), so i shouldn’t be surprised that I still can’t see my toes. But it’s disappointing nonetheless.
As I was powerwashing the back deck yesterday – yes, moving close to time of birth has it’s perks where nesting is involved – I came to realize exactly why it is that my husband loves to keep me pregnant. I’d also organized the garaged, sorted books and clothes for the yard sale, keep laundry in a continuous cycle and I’m about one meal ahead in preparations. Not to mention the fact that he likes the midwife’s suggestion for getting things “moving along.”
Today he’s back at work, hoping I show evidence of the pains of labor so he has a viable excuse to leave, and we continue on the packing and house-readying journey. I’m starting to rearrange in a way that so when someone does come to visit and perhaps purchase the house, that it doesn’t look nearly as cluttered. Finding a home for all the small appliances and boxes of cereal isn’t as easy task as what you might think.
We’re also expecting some new siding to come today, which will bring good cheer. Not to mention the fact that the bid was within our insurance reimbursement means, so we’re excited about that.
But for now, breakfast for a 2-year-old awaits.