Waiting for the Day

33 weeks now, and the day I could be having this baby is getting creepily close. Just this morning before leaving for work, the Husband suggested to me, "Why don't you start getting your hospital bag together if you have time today?" Weeeeeeeird.

Now I have to start thinking about having my "Get ready and go" bag all set. To figure out what I want to wear home (a snazzy new WFU tee would be nice...I'm feeling a bit nostalgic for college right about now), what I'll need while I'm in there, what the baby will need to be taken home in...heck, I have to start thinking about having an actual outside baby!

In preparation for this momentous event, I've finally re-installed the car seat. This is one of the only times that our tiny car actually feels...well, tiny. I'm only just realising how spoilt I've been for leg room until now. Who knew that a car seat could take up so much stinking room? Well, I suppose I did know that, technically. We did have the seat base installed before, but took it out in order to make room for either passengers or an Ikea trip. Not any more! That car seat officially takes precedence over whatever else could be put in that space since D-Day rapidly approaches, at an approximate 49 days away. (Did I say, "weeeeeird" already?)

I'm also just noticing that I am doing that whole "nesting" thing. News flash: people aren't jerking your chain when they tell you about bursts of energy and a near-OCD need to...

...before the baby arrives. Just today I've:

• taken out the trash
• taken out the recycling
• vacuumed the living room
• dusted the windowsills (which I don't think I've done yet in this house...)
• swept the kitchen and dining room area
• made the bed
• seriously contemplated cleaning the shelves in the fridge (but that might wait for one more day)

I mean, I'm not a dirty person. I enjoy and insist on having a clean house. But doing that much cleaning all before lunch time without the incentive of either A) going on a trip [so I can come home to a tidy house] or B) having company over [so I don't have to wallow in shame] is unusual. Another house-wide dusting rampage will probably take place once we're back from London later on. I knew I was in trouble when I caught myself eyeing up the door frames and wondering how much dust could have collected on top of them.

What the heck!? My house isn't a dusty cobweb bedecked kind of place! My baby's not going to notice if I haven't dusted the door frames, or vacuumed behind the radiators, or shampooed all the carpets...

I should stop this list now before I come up with more work for myself. I still have to make it to the gym most days and get ready to take (and pass!) my driving test. Then I can start worrying about whether the state of the [oven/carpets/door frames/bathroom sink/dining table] is acceptable to bring a baby home to.

In the meantime, I'm going to take several deep breaths, watch some Gilmore Girls, and remember that the baby won't die if I don't dust everything in sight to within an inch of its life.