So much of this every year, but this year? I can't even describe the euphoric feeling that has accompanied the turning of the calendar this month.
I recently heard from Eisley as I pulled her out of the car: "You still got that baby in there?"
I share the precise sentiments, little love. Baby is doing it's last little bit of growing before it enters a world so full of love and chaos; I can hardly imagine a life not pregnant and not nauseous.
My body hurts, my mind is exhausted, and I'd just assume spend my life in the hot shower where warm water seems to be nicer to my joints than real life. Our countdown chain looks pitifully small, almost worthless. Jimmy has probably lost pounds from shivering through the night - his mockery makes me laugh until I contract. I know this is the end. I'm thankful to be here. I'm thankful for the hiccups and practice breathing witnessed from the outside. The alien lumps that stick out and the little body parts that slide by. I am so anxious to meet this little person.
The nesting is out of control. Cabinets are organized, closets are organized, and dressers are full of clean, properly-fitting clothing. I keep thinking I am finished with putting things in their places, and then I get a wild notion to some more rearranging. Part of me wishes the extra neurotic type A would stick around to keep this house on a very tidy schedule, but then I drive myself sort of nuts and I can't wait to see her go.
Also, the mints are still happening. And ice crunching. I don't even know who I am anymore - I find ice chomping one of the most obnoxious habits known to mankind. And here I am.
We're at 24 days. Somehow, this still seems impossibly long. Cherishing the last moments of this.