522 hours and counting! Tick tick tick!

My car won't start. I suppose it is the starter...you know, since it won't start. What I dread most is coming to fruition. I can see it now; chugging down the road in Nick's Frankenride at four in the morning, amniotic fluid gushing everywhere, crossing my fingers the car makes it to the birth center before the passenger door falls off, sending me to meet the pavement just before the baby crowns.

...I need to call a mechanic.

OK, I realize that the above would never happen because I do indeed wear my seat belt. But still, I just feel the need to get my point across.

Countdown begins

Four weeks...give or take some. This octopus is writhing within me as though he is slowly trying to dig his way out with a spoon. Each day he chips away a little more at my insides and each night he throws in the towel sometime around one AM and lets me sleep before he starts his next shift bright and early the next morning. My guess is, he'll be a night owl like his daddy. I am enjoying painting the nursery a little bit each night, just me and Regina Spektor on full blast, flinging paint spatters all over myself...I'm so very coordinated in my current condition! Here's to the next few weeks of sudden bursts of energy matched by equal urges to sleep all day. Oh maternity!

Oops...

Beginings of a nursery

I am due in five weeks. Am I cutting it close enough? Probably not; I am a better procrastinator than that. I'll give it another few weeks and then I'll be sure to be done.
Yet to do:
Paint walls and trim
fix hideous contrast color on the dresser!
Set up the crib
Set up toys, decorations, wall hanging
Oh, arrange for wall hanging to be made
Hmmm, I know there's more...

green and the other green

I feel as though my life has been consumed by the various colors of green. Apparently I am in love with it. I gathered all the green items I could find to try to come up with the color for the walls and the trim in the nursery and discovered it is no coincidence that the very color I am searching for is all over my house. I always thought my favorite color was red. It turns out I am not as cool as I once thought I was. Red is bold and brash, green is thoughtful and aware. Who knew?

On a side note, I must add that it is odd that I am even remotely interested in having a nursery at all. If you ask me, they are not for babies, but for self-indulgent mommies who are under the impression that they are about to give birth to a shallow human rife
with disdain for bare walls. Like this little guy in here cares about hue
and contrast. I doubt he'll notice that the rug clashes a bit with the trim and despite the fact that he is the son of an opera singer, I'm sure he won't care if he has drawers designated for certain items. So why am I doing this? I call it "Last baby syndrome". It is a right of passage as well as an insurance policy that I may not screw this one up and I can be sure not to end my days in a retirement home. After all, if I can pull a nursery out of my ass, I can surely atone for all the mistakes I made with the first two.