No babe yet, but the contractions have begun... meaning it could be today, or a couple days from now. Either way, I thought I'd go ahead and post what I believe is the final piece of the belly progression sequence (click to see the larger view). We have begun timing these suckers... about nine minutes apart, and pretty tolerable. Can't wait to welcome this kiddo into the world.
While Josh sits across from me at the dining room table singing along to the (not so clean) lyrics of Doctor Dre I realize it has come down to this: we are going crazy. Despite the fact we are still four days from the due date, we are so ready to have meltzarp. With the school year complete, we are trying hard to distract ourselves with work on the "farm," cleaning bikes, painting, lynda.com tutorials and rediscovering old books to browse through. I don't think I am nesting, I am just trying to stay sane. I saw our friend Mike walking down the sidewalk yesterday evening and ran out to catch him, with Josh on my heels. He and little Mila were a good distraction for 15 minutes. This morning we woke with the task of finding ourselves a diaper changing table. After visiting a number of consignment shops and considering a variety of options (if we hack the legs off of that dresser, it will be at the perfect level), we ended up settling on a pretty boring and cheap little number, with hopes that something more exciting will come along later. We just saw the movie Babies, where a new Mongolian mum, dad, new infant and toddler all squeeze together on a motorbike and ride home from the hospital. The reason I note this is because I am going back to that car seat issue. The car seat is ready, yes, but it is the car that has been out of commission. After the heavy rains something went awry, and we have been waiting for over a week to have it diagnosed and fixed. Fortunately we do not have to turn to a motorbike for transport, but we really are hoping to hear back from the mechanic today.
Well, the mood has changed, as Josh has now changed the Pandora station to DeVotchKa. I had better get going, as I still have a long list of not so necessary things to get through today. And regarding meltzarp, don't worry, we'll keep you posted.
Much to my happiness, Josh spent his year in Mexico, and opening months in Bowling Green visiting the barber shop for his haircuts, and always came away with a sleek-looking do. But after his last experience waiting on a slow-working, ultra-careful barber last month, Josh lost all interest in wasting time and money going somewhere for his hair needs and has taken the task back into his own hands. So he performs an act as seen above, standing over the sink and garbage can with a razor, running the electrical cutting device back and forth and all around his head until he comes out with a somewhat uniform military-esque cut. Then I am summoned for the clean trim along the neck line and around the ears. I dislike this. But if Josh is happy to have saved $10 and a half hour, who am I to judge?
Now that school is over, Josh and I are experiencing an unfamiliar calm... which surely is about to change. We are waking pretty early, despite the need to do so, and have been heading to our "farm" each morning. On Monday we were ashamed of our plot compared to the neighboring gardens that looked oh so orderly. We had neglected the farm while wrapping up our last weeks at Western, and weeds had hungrily taken over after the great rains we received. But on day three of weeding and rescuing smothering vegetables, Josh remarked "the other people aren't going to know what hit them", as though the awesomeness of our patch was going to blow all other plot renters away. On the babe front, we are on the 10-day countdown to the due date. We are trying to lull this little one into the world with loud commands to "come out now," despite people's advice that we need to enjoy these remaining child-free days.
Or so they say. And so it feels. This little one is enjoying nuzzling its head down hard on my bladder, and gives me a start every once in a while. As the babe pokes me on the sides with its elbows or heels, I try and poke it back, or rub the surface of the "poking" appendage in order to try and guess which body part it is. It responds quickly by pulling back in. I am no longer riding my bike to school, and am trying to take it easy. While our friends Pete and Angie visited this past weekend it was nice to lounge around the house and eat good food, get caught up, and share laughs. Overlapping with them was our good friend Michael, who was en route to Minnesota from Alabama. So we had a houseful, and they all got to see my big buddha belly and gave the large mass a few rubs. The semester is nearing its end, with graduation this weekend. Josh and I will wrap everything up on Tuesday, and then we move on to baby focus. There is a stack of books beside my bed that I am determined to speed read. We have to settle on this kiddo's name. That car seat still needs to find its way to my car. And it could be any day now...
It began raining on Friday night, and did not cease until Sunday evening. And it was coming down hard. It was as though the sky was releasing some major pent up frustration. As Josh and I drove to run errands on Sunday morning, my car sputtered and stalled a few times, likely due to something soggy under the hood. We saw a number of homes that were precariously near (or in) newly formed ponds. In the middle of the night we were awakened by a large crash, which turned out to be a tree limb. It thankfully did no damage to our house (or us!), and we were about as relieved that it did not crush the fig tree we transplanted to our yard from Roanoke (we are so proud of that tree, now sporting about 15 young, green figs). While leaving campus this evening, Josh and I walked by this humorous item in a frat house yard... who knows how long this "pond" will remain, but for now it is being put to good use.
This blog began as a recording of my year living and working in Guadalajara, México. It now reflects my experiences in Kentucky, living in a 130-year-old house first inhabited by Colonel Crump and his wife Mary Norton Underwood.