Today is another squealing around the bases kind of day. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, check out THIS blog post.
I am thiiiiiisclose to having the nursery complete. Thanks to my husband and his wonderful, strong co-workers, the changing table is now upstairs and filled with clothes so tiny I ALMOST WANT TO CRY! Nursery decor is up on the walls, and almost complete (waiting on a few more items…if I’d stop perusing ETSY I’d probably be done by now). We have just about everything we need to welcome this little guy, except a few items that we’ll pick up in the next several weeks. I finally got brave, and after months of debating and researching, placed an order for two types of cloth diapers.
I’m ready. I’m so ready to meet this little guy who has been thrashing around inside of me since about 17 weeks. (Ok, it was more fluttering than thrashing then, but whatever)
I have been so anxious about this baby. I have been apprehensive. I have been overwhelmed with the idea of holding a newborn. A few weekends ago, I was shopping in Babies R Us (first time ever) for a friend’s baby shower. I sat down in a glider to test one out since we needed one, and the realization that I would soon be rocking a BABY to sleep hit me over the head so hard I started to cry. And not the “I’m so verklempt with warm fuzzy emotions” kind of cry. The holycrapwhatishappeningtomylife kind of cry. I can admit that to you guys, right? I. Was. PETRIFIED.
I know he needs to keep on growin’ and cookin’ in there, so I’m trying not to feel impatient. But I’m excited to see this child – the one who moves when he hears his Dad preach, the one who kicks when his Dad says so (no lie – like on demand. Talk about weird) I am beyond curious to meet the child that has mischievously perched himself on my bladder for the last 8 months…I am squealing around the bases excited to meet him.
Bring. It. On.