don’t waste another minute on your cryin’

Sorry, part of my baby brain leads to random moments where I feel like my body is just a vessel for hosting Alan Thicke’s spirit.

That and what a difference a day makes!!

After the Confessions of a Panic Stricken Pregnant Lady yesterday, we grabbed my home birth list (that’s right… home birth.. we’ll get into it later) and went to go get as much crossed off as possible.   When we came home, the list was nearly complete, with bonus Gift From The Baby for Amy and even a mystery bag of cinnamon hearts to enjoy.

Well, as much as you can enjoy something when you are super dizzy and feeling faint.  But my Super Duper husband ran me a bath and we decided on a paint colour for the bathroom (because if I am going to labour in there, I really need to like the colour I am looking at).

And then I got out of the tub and changed my mind about the colour.

But I didn’t stress. Because the baby has 3 onesies now and some receiving blankets and I feel like I am totally ready.  Other than the whole getting up for feedings during the night, because right now when Amy wakes up 32084 time AT 2.5!!! it is all I can do not to run in her room, cover the walls with egg cartons and hope to soundproof that shit out of that thing so we can all GET SOME SLEEP!  Only the eggs we buy come in plastic containers (woo hoo environment – we do recycle them), so I know I can’t do it.  Plus.  There is NOTHING that can silence the beast within Ames when she decides that she doesn’t want anyone to sleep if she can’t.

Other than Noah’s brain.  That boy sleeps through it.  Every night.  And bounces out of bed in the morning saying “I had a BIG sleep!”, so impressed with himself and completely oblivious to the salt he is grinding into our wounds.

But HEY! I’ve Got Plastic Tablecloths! to sleep on whilst we await this bundle of awesome that is sure to pull the rug out from under us, just as we start to feel steady on our feet.  But I’m doing what I can to stay one step ahead… until he or she arrives.  At least I keep telling myself that.  We’ll see how it really goes come April.

Please let this baby wait until April.

 

Guess who got distracted again?

Seriously.  How do real bloggers do it? How does anyone who has two under 4s do anything.  Just when I think I am getting the hang of it, something comes up and I am 10 steps back.   It’s not like I haven’t had things to write about.  I mean we’ve had Christmas, temper tantrums, failed toilet training, visits to Sick Kids, sick kids, sick parents, and even had the 3D preview of our upcoming arrival.

But my head. My head has been a mess.  Go to bed each night with a firm TO DO List and then wake up the next morning wondering if anyone would notice me hiding behind the glider in the bedroom avoiding the list of things that need to be done.  When Noah was en route, we were pretty much on schedule with everything.  The nursery was slowly coming together, the essentials were purchased, the hospital bags traveled in the car wherever we went.    Amy came along for the ride and we were about 4 steps behind but knew that we had most of what we needed already so there was no panic.

This time I am totally in a panic.  Inside.  Outside I just kind of look like something in between a patient from Girl Interrupted and a hobo.  So, mostly normal.

It’s February and I am way behind on Christmas thank you cards.  Noah’s birthday is in 24 days and I meant to pick him up all of these things he wanted in the post Christmas sales.  Oh and he wants a dragon cake.  Because for some reason he believes that I am capable of making one.  I can slap a pattern on some fondant to make a theme, but shaping a cake into something more than a number? You’re fooling yourself, child.

Oh, and we’re 10 weeks out from being a family of 5 and we don’t have an infant car seat, never mind a car that can hold all of us.  Which is kind of okay, because let’s be honest … as if I will mentally be prepared to venture out in public before 2013.

They are all things that will come together, but in my head there are just toooooo many.  And when I write down everything that needs to be done, I want to kick Michelle Duggar in the vagina for making it seem soooooooo easy with 19 kids.  I didn’t find it easy with one, until I had two.

So that’s where we are.  Or at least where I am.  Lee is actually at work.  Where he is most days.  Unless he needs to work from home because Amy’s eye is deciding to play tricks on us and has us driving through rush hour traffic at silly o’clock to Sick Kids and making me dislike the general public even more, since you and both know that if people would just learn to merge properly, traffic would flow much better!  MUCH!  Why am I not the Minister of LEARN HOW TO DRIVE YOU FREAKING IDIOTS!!!!!!! ?

Amy is trying to have  a nap at 3.30pm.  This does NOT work.  I repeat DOES NOT.  But she’s been so sick lately that her schedule is totally out of whack.  Schedule. HAHAHAH I put Amy and schedule into the same sentence.  That is hysterical.  If there is anything that she isn’t, it is scheduled.  And boy doesn’t she let us know it.  Because we all want to play at 4am or deal with her melt downs at 5 minutes past WAIT I FORGOT I’M TIRED o’clock.  I can’t wait until she is waking the baby up constantly by yelling NEBER! NUFFING! NEBER! NO!.  Those will be fun times.

Then there is Noah.  Who is playing in the basement, because down there he can poo and I can’t catch him and try and put him on the toilet.  What is the deal?!  I know it’s part lazy on our side but it’s a big part CRAZY on his side.  He wants to go to a school where he can wear a diaper.  Because let’s be real.  Who has time to sit on a toilet?  Especially when Zoboomafoo is on.  Or when the pirate ship is saving the dinosaurs from extinction.

As for this baby, who isn’t officially called Hamster but that seems to be what most people know him/her as, well s/he has been letting me know that they are getting ready.  Head down, head butting my bones, wriggling and kicking to let me know that time is a coming.  We saw him/her on the 3D scan and they totally performed.  We even saw baby nipples.  And the way s/he cuddled the umbilical cord was too sweet.  If not frightening.  So now when there is an hour free of movement I’m all WAKE UP, DON’T BE USING THAT THING AS A SCARF!

Right, NOW that’s where we are.

And to make up for the mish mash of moaning above, I will make sure the next post is photo heavy.  You know you can’t wait.  Or at least pretend you can’t.  My fragile emotional state can’t really handle the rejection at the moment.