Tuesday, September 3, 2013

The 45 Day Freak OUT!!

So on a recent Saturday I realized that I am, in fact, having another child in 45 days!!  Holy Sh*t…is pretty much all that went through my mind that day.  I literally had a freak out.  A melt down if you will.  If I did not spend most of my time at work seeing the effects of drug withdrawal babies I probably would have had a glass of wine (or 10).  But since self medication was out of the question I needed to deal with this straight on.  I will be the first to tell you (only because I want to beat Chuck to the punch) that I did not handle this sudden realization that I am going to be the mother to 3 kids in a matter of mere weeks well at all.
Now, I am sure you are thinking, yeah but come on…you are just about 34 weeks pregnant why are you just now figuring out the end result is going to be another child.  Well my friends…denial is an amazing thing.  I never thought that I would have any more children after Anna.  We were quite surprised to find out another little one was on the way.  Since I never thought this scenario would actually be a possibility I never really let myself believe it were true.  Until Saturday…then it hit me like a ton of bricks!!  Up until now I never really considered myself “really” pregnant.  I know you either are pregnant or not, but in my mind I was only kind of pregnant…not as far along as I am.  To the outside world I look like I should have delivered this kid about 4 weeks ago, but it hadn’t seemed real yet…
So the four of us are home and I have a To-Do list a mile long and to me crossing everything off of it seemed like a matter of life and death.  I need to find the Baby Bjorn! Oh and the Boppy!  I need the friggin Boppy!  WHERE THE HELL IS THE BOPPY?  We need a car seat, but we don't know the sex of the baby so we can't decide on a pattern, what the f*ck are we going to do?  The kid is going to be born and will need to live in the hospital because I can not choose between sage-green and black!!  The day just went down hill from there.  We switched rooms with the girls so changing out the closets was on the agenda.  I had about 4 huge trash bags of clothes to weed through and in my anal retentive nesting ways I even divided the closet (with a sign WITH arrows!) by size.  I cleaned out the girls drawers, because we can not in good conscience bring a child into this home if the girls underwear drawer was disorganized.  I think it may even say that in the hospital discharge instruction sheet.  So as I weeded through their undies I was overwhelmed...turns out they had at least 75 pairs of underwear.  I gave up counting.  Really?  Who needs that many pairs?  Oh and Sara had 6 bras in there.  She is 5.  I am 40.  I went in and counted my bras.  Four.  4 flippin bras that fit me!  2 white and 2 black.  How is that fair?  Well, sadly I am now down to 3.  While at work the other day an under-wire gave out.  The poor thin piece of metal just gave way under the strain.  In its defense I have been asking a lot of it lately.  So there I was at work with a torpedo shaped belly and one wonky looking boob.  So now on top of everything else I need to add "buy bras" to my ever growing To-Do list...But I digress...

This sense of having to get everything done now continued for about 2 weeks and slowly I was crossing everything off of my list.  Fast forward to yesterday...a rainy holiday off.  I was once again swept up in the whole nesting phase of being pregnant.  I told Chuck we should have a baby every year and a half or so because that is the magical time when I can see dirt that is not visible to the naked eye.  I knew I was being neurotic so this time I tried really hard to keep my neurosis to myself.  I let Chuck and the girls go about their day, all the while thinking it would be uncivilized to bring an innocent child into this home...My God, we  have dust on the top of the curtain rods for Christ's sake.  The couch was off center by a good inch and a half.  Who the hell lives like that?  The poor baby would see that the empty hangers in my closet were mixed in between the clothes and not properly stored at the end of the clothing rack and would think to itself, "they sent me home with white trash, there must have been a mix up in the hospital!"  

Now with 28 days until the baby arrives I can happily report that the house has never been cleaner, all of our underwear drawers are weeded through and organized and Chuck bought me a new Boppy pillow.  We have a lovely sage-green and grey car seat and all the supplies a baby could need from diapers, wipes and even butt paste (thanks Declan!), to a tub, clothes and everything in between.  Now we just sit and wait for the baby, and I will secretly pray none of my housemates undo all of my hard work.  Fingers crossed!!!

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