I don't want my baby to come out homeless.
Ok, so here we are at week 25 and maybe getting rejected for our little farm has been on my mind. If I work with you, you've more than likely heard me moaning and groaning that I feel like my baby is homeless. Some of you have been very sweet "home is where-ever mommy and daddy are" and so on. I get it, I know. I just felt like he didn't have a space. He didn't have a place to sleep. I felt very responsible for that. I let myself start feeling like a failure. I like to have a plan, always have a plan, so I found a great deal on a bassinet on Craigslist and spent about 4 hot dirty hours moving boxes and setting up a "Just in Case We're Still in This House" place for him...
Maybe I jinxed us by insisting we pack a bunch of stuff months ago?
Ugh. Stuff.
poking my head out the window to peek on my girls in the yard
abandoned desk area where I used to compute. Ahhhh how I love my laptop :)
Awesome sign some dear friends made for us. LOVE IT.
I guess we have furniture for him, this dresser will work, as will the end table and desk that go with it.
Yay!
I also LOVE the tree art, made by one of mah besties
Super sweet vintage books from Kathy (Kris' mom)
Is it weird that I sniff the pages? Mmmmmm old book smell!
Viola! Now he's not homeless! He's a transient!
Oh man can I breathe a sigh of relief in the homeless category. We're still looking pretty hard at making a new home for our growing family, but damn that nesting feeling is CRAY! I wish you guys could've seen me cleaning that room! I was moving like it was 2am and I was methed out of my mind! Moving boxes, re-arranging stuff, muttering to myself, sweeping PILES of dirt on the floor, and of course it was hot so I had the windows open and the wind was blowing like crazy. By the time I was done my face looked like I was a chimney sweep...
I feel pretty
On a developmental note... did I tell you guys this fetus can now put his little hands over his ears if he hears a noise that's too loud?! SO weird! I wonder if he does that when I sing to him in the shower... I can feel myself getting bigger by the day. It's getting increasingly harder to put my shoes on, and the urge to cry into my food still comes and goes. What I really want to know is: What do my organs look like now?! It's amazing to me that my organs know to re-organize themselves. Like a weird sort of biological Tetris... I love that game!
Yeah, it's starting to feel like my organs are moving toward my throat...
Man that explains a lot.
I'm SO grateful my body is smarter than me. Does that make sense? It's a really trippy thing that my body is like, "oh, right, we need to re-organize to make room for this other WHOLE SEPARATE ENTITY, we'll just squeeze this, and shift that, oh, lungs, could you just shorten and fatten please? Thanks!" Who is the foreman here? Probably some hormone, huh? Those hormones win EVERY time! They're sneaky! If I was a paranoid schizophrenic, I would be at war with my hormones. I could see myself sitting at a bus stop, muttering about how I'm just a passenger in my body... that "they" are really running everything. Strangers would probably think I'm talking about the government or some conspiracy theory, but no, I'd be talking about hormones. ...because it's true... Because I'm not a paranoid schizophrenic, I'll just tuck those thoughts back up in there...
Lets move on...
I can still fit mah clothes!
I use the term "fit" loosely...
Well, next week will be week 26, and alas, the dreaded Glucose Tolerance Test! I'll be blogging live from the South Waterfront during the whole 4 hour ordeal. C'mon. This test hasn't advanced to something more streamline? Sheesh. See you guys then!
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