Nesting

Pregnant woman apparently don't have enough to be compared with, and thus, this last phase of pregnancy seems to fall underneath the avian category.  Unbeknownst to myself, this latest obsession with finally purchasing curtains for the dining room, replacing our duvet cover that's had an equator-sized tear for the last 6 months and hounding my husband to fix up the basement that I am never in to begin with have all been sure signs of the "nesting" disease that hits around the third trimester.  I spend more time on www.westelm.com than I do planning out our meals for the week- and most of you know how much I really love planning dinner and hate shopping.  However, I feel like these desires are more than just mere pregnant emotional compulsions as I will outline defensively for the you in the following paragraphs.

We are blessed enough to live near ALL of Ellie's grandparents and aunts and uncles, so there is plenty of help to go around.  Ordinarily, this would make me cringe in embarrassment at the thought that other people will now know that I can't do everything myself- but after this past week of not sleeping due to back pain and the gymnastic feats performed every 20 minutes in my uterus I am aware of how little energy and sleep I will have for the next two months.  I am more than grateful the Grandparents want to help- so grateful, in fact, I want everything neatly arranged and organized so that when they have Ellie duty for an hour or so, I can take a nap or a shower without having to tell anyone once where the bottles/diapers/ear plugs are. Ahhhh.  In fact, if any want to start getting into the swing of things early, I have a list...:)

My paychecks are coming to an end.  Yes, I'll still get paid something or other as a reminder that America is not completely heartless when it comes to newly born children, but it won't be as much as when I was working.  Which means, buy those curtains now or live through another Thanksgiving with our neighbors watching us carve the turkey.

I have four weeks off before my due date.  Yes, I know.  Due dates aren't sanctioned or certain.  However, going with the odds of this being my first, chances are she'll wait around until the 40th week (Oh, say it isn't so) to show her pretty, little face.  I've already promised her a puppy if makes a grand entrance at the 38th.  Here's hoping.  However, that does leave me some time to "prepare".  Since sleeping is hardly an option even now, I can't truly take advantage when I'm bound to be even more uncomfortable then than I am now.  Hence, "nesting" it is!  Washing all of her clothes and sheets and swaddling blankets, cleaning out from underneath the kitchen sink ( I'm fairly certain something other-worldly lives down there), making lists and spreadsheets of bills and budgets so that I don't even have to think about money for at least a few weeks after her birth, adding to her collection of children's books that I'm sure she'll be reading on her own by 6 months and other things I've been putting off for, oh, I don't know, the last year or so.

Alright, after re-reading, none of these defenses hold.  I am the typical, third trimester woman.  I accept.  I nest.  Bring on the Excel sheets.