The clock is ticking...that's really my main thought every day. I have a mental list of all the "must-do" projects, and I'm procrastinating until the painter comes. I tell myself I can't set up a crib, organize baby clothing, hang pictures or curtains, find a new carseat, sew blankets and burpcloths...until the painter comes. I have no excuse for why the pantry isn't yet organized.
Yes, I do. I'm busy gestating.
I keep reminding myself that I don't have to waddle; I really am capable of walking with a normal gait.
I sit in front of the fan in the living room a lot. There was that one weekend several weeks ago that our air conditioning broke down...permanently. The entire system needed to be replaced. Can you imagine how quickly I scheduled our A/C guy, how eagerly I paid him whatever he wanted? Nothing like pregnancy and superheat to illustrate the laws of supply and demand.
This baby moves a lot, an experience I really do enjoy 90% of the time. The kids frequently want to feel the kicks, but it seems like all movement stops when someone else's hand is there. Does this mean that baby will be easily soothed by family attention?
The kids already call the baby by the name we've chosen, and that always sounds weird to me. I just don't connect the name to a person yet. Baby. That's the baby's name to me. Just Baby.
I get the restless legs syndrome at night. And if I stretch and point my toes while I'm sleeping...immediate leg cramps. I've taken a calcium supplement the past couple nights and that seems to be helping.
I can't decide if I should be on edge in case my labor is early and quick, like Dallin's birth; or, should I relax because the other three births were all late? My sister-in-law had her first baby five weeks early--that would be this week for me.
I really hope that doesn't happen. The painter hasn't come yet.
