Chasing Monkeys

Thank you all for your comments.  They were very helpful.  I have come to the conclusion that we would all (including baby girl) be happier with something a little simpler.  I have a couple of thoughts, but I'm not going to share them because I still have 3 1/2 weeks to change my mind and I am almost certain that speaking them aloud (or in print) will up my chances of deciding that I hate them.

Ack!  Only 3 1/2 weeks?!?  Actually, if I felt confident that I really had 3 1/2 more weeks to get ready for this baby I would feel pretty good.  I think I can get everything that I really, really want to do done in that much time.  The only problem is that over the last week or so I've been plagued with an increasing paranoia that this baby has serious intentions of coming early.  This paranoia might simply be based (inasmuch as it is based on anything) on my current physical discomfort because I definitely don't remember ever feeling this pregnant.  But then, I might just have a faulty memory.

The discomfort and its accompanying fatigue make it hard for me to convince myself that it's worth it to use my limited energy on tasks that will simply have to be performed again later like dusting, or vacuuming, or mopping the kitchen floor.  (I do wash dishes and laundry because that's the sort of thing that you have to do twice as much of later if you don't do it now, plus, it would be annoying to run out of, say, cups or underwear.)  Instead, if I get a moment to do something besides chase, soothe, and entertain children, I put it toward more important things.  Like embellishing newborn-sized onesies.  Like this one:

To check the quality of my handiwork, I showed this to Simon and asked him what he thought was on it.  He said, "Bee!  Bee!"  Then I showed it to Asher and he informed me that my bees needed heads.

This morning I had a prenatal appointment and the friend that I asked to babysit asked if she could just take my kids for the whole morning.  How can you say no to that?  So, after my appointment I stopped at Target and bought some treats to put in Asher and Simon's mommy-and-daddy-are-going-to-the-hopspital bags and then came home and ate cheese and crackers while I read blogs.  (Did I just say that I have way too much to do and not enough time to do it in?  Oops.)  When my friend finally brought the kids back, she had already fed them lunch!  That pretty much made her my hero (as if she weren't already) since keeping my children fed is honestly my least favorite part of motherhood.  So, since there were no kids to feed and no lunch mess to clean up, we just hung out in the back yard chasing the "monkeys" (which is what Simon calls chipmunks) until nap time, at which time I worked on embellishing onesies.

I think I will spend my nap time freedom tomorrow packing all of the hospital bags.  Then, if baby girl does decide to come early, at least the essentials will be ready, even if I haven't cleaned out the refrigerator yet.  Although I'm hoping that my preparedness will hold her off.  Because I figure that even at this age she has probably already developed a sense of irony.