It's Go Time, People (A Late Pregnancy Freak-out of Sorts)

We are now entering what I am going to assume is the "nesting" stage of pregnancy. Or, as more accurately described, the I-am-laying-in-bed-at-midnight-and-can't-fall-asleep-because-of-all-the-things-that-need-to-be-done-and-how-will-it-all-get-done-and-it-must-be-done-THISMINUTE-who-cares-if-it's-approaching-one-in-the-morning. (Because obviously the walls need to be washed, new pacifiers need to be purchased, and clothes need to be washed in Dreft and put away EXACTLYATTHISMOMENT because if it doesn't get done at one in the morning when I'm thinking about it, it's clearly not getting done at all.)

Even though I've been pregnant a number of times, I don't think I've ever actually had a nesting instinct, so I can't be certain that this is actually just major head-exploding-freaking-out anxiety or if, it is in fact, this so-called nesting, but nesting sounds so much better, wouldn't you say? So I'm just going to go ahead with that.

With all my middle of the night worrying, you'd think I'd be much more productive during the day. Yet somehow between the Nesting Anxiety, the Baby Name Anxiety (oh, I haven't mentioned that yet?), and the I Can't Sleep Because I'm So Uncomfortable Non-anxiety, I am hardly sleeping so instead of waking up with enough enthusiasm to tackle the world! (or just my Baby Preparation To Do List), I am groggy and irritable and nobody talk to me at least until lunch time.

Yes, it's a good thing that I'm currently thirty-three weeks pregnant instead of say, thirty-nine because the reality is we have plenty of time. There's also the reality of most of this stuff doesn't even need to be done. We can have a baby (and even bring her home) without any of this "urgent" stuff getting done.

(Aside from getting a new car and infant car seat. -- Oh, did I fail to mention that too? Our two choices of vehicles currently consist of our eleven-year-old little red car that has no air conditioning and no space for three kids in the back seat or our seventeen-year-old Honda which also has questionable backseat space for three kids in booster/car seats and up until recently was running okay but decided its end time has come and sits in our driveway with nary a purr when we try turning the key.)

Do I sound like I might have grounds for a panic attack???

I promise I'm not really going crazy, it's just end-of-pregnancy hormones and "nesting instinct" as I'm going to say. But, wow, this is all new to me because, although I remember feeling the need to be prepared for Hope and Paige's arrivals, I don't ever remember feeling this desperate need to get shit done, like, yesterday.

So, now that I've gotten all that off my chest I'm going to go. I have some baby clothes to organize, furniture to move, and lint to pick off the rug.

xoxo, christine