The Home Stretchhhhhhhhhhh

After 2 weeks of maternity leave, I've pretty much gotten all the baby gear ready.

I'm not going to lie, it was/is awesome. Everyday was like Christmas--getting all these packages from Amazon, Target, Walmart, Diapers.com, etc. The UPS guy is like part of the family now, we see him so often.

Here's a changing table I made, which matches his bassinet (not pictured).



Nesting is fun, but you know what's not so fun? Being a big fat house. As I tell the spouse everyday--I feel so fat, fat, fatty, fat. Because I am. My rib cage has expanded a lot, my limbs are swollen with bloat, and of course, the ol' belly is looking like a huge ripe tomato. And the spouse says, without guile or much wisdom--"Yeah, you are much bigger, everywhere, not just your belly." Ugh. Honesty is over-rated.

When I lumber around the house, I seriously feel like Shrek, just less green.

Here's me in all my 9.5 month glory. Probably, the last belly pic I'll take until D-Day!


And I am so ready. Okay baby, you can come now!

Is that me?!

OMG--I went on this website and got a little shock--this chick looks like me! How'd they get my picture?! Maybe I have a long lost twin out there somewhere...

You can see the website here.


Then I called the hubby over to look at it and he flipped out too.

The Upside of Masochism

A lot of things in life are disappointing once you actually get them. After fervent anticipation, the actual experience just never quite lives up to the hype. (And yes, that's what I plan to tell my future teenagers about the birds and the bees).

But maternity leave is NOT one of those things. The last few days I've been at home, nesting like a crazy woman, being busier than ever, but also being happier than ever.

Despite all the chores and baby prep--re-arranging furniture, organizing onesies by size, taking hospital tours, reading about colic and indigestion, etc. etc., I can only describe my state of being as...blissful.

I'm pretty sure it's all due to the absence of corporate work. I had no idea what a mental and emotional tax my work was until it went away.

It's like I'm living out that old adage--Why do I hit myself with a hammer all day? Cuz it feels so good when I stop.

It really does. It feels. So. Good.

Freedom...sigh

If this is the day I've been waiting for for nearly 9 months, why do I feel so meh about it?

Didn't I hunger, pine, and groan for this blessed day--my last day of work before starting my maternity leave?

Then why do I feel exhausted, apathetic, and even stressed out now?

Because of The List. The long long loooooong list of chores, errands, and baby prep I've been accruing in my head.

Such a massive debt of "to-do's" have accumulated that my brain feels like it's going to hemorrhage. The list is so long and ponderous I can't even begin to record it onto paper. It's just a dark, fuzzy, shadow in my brain--menacing as distant thunderclouds.

All I can think of is--this baby BETTER not come early!

I'm a horrible mother...

...to my office plant.


I was so happy to leave the office for the 4th of July long-weekend that I neglected to water my already saggy plant. So it's no wonder that I came in today and faced this half-dead weed.

But the worst part is, I didn't even water it this morning (just kept forgetting) UNTIL my co-worker came in and gasped in horror, grabbed a nearby water bottle, and doused it quickly as if it were on fire.

I hope this is not an indication that I'll be one of those parents who forget to feed their kids--didn't I feed you yesterday?