One Month

My due date is officially one month away. One month. Wow. I am still scared to death and have yet to overcome the shock of being pregnant, even after eight months. I cannot wrap my brain around how crazy things will surely be and I pray I can handle it. It doesn't help when everyone, and I mean everyone, reminds me, "Oh, you think you're busy now. You have no idea." Or, "You better rest now." Or, "Life as you know it is over." If people only knew that their light-hearted comments and warnings have kept me awake at night and caused me an immense amount of worry. But I'm trying to stay positive and hopeful that I can do this. Yes, I can mother three boys just as well as I mother the two I currently adore.

Nearly everything is done. The nursery is ready. Will's clothes have been washed. Sam and Jack's bunk beds are up and I get better each day at making them. I seriously wanted to send them back when I saw just how hard it was to make one. It is torture for someone with slight OCD tendencies, someone who refuses to "just pull the covers up and don't worry about it." I'm working on mastering the bed bunk making and am sure it will be much easier when I'm not afraid my stomach may pop if I bump the ladder.

I still need to pack my bag and get the car seat and baby swing out. The final things on my to do list. Oh, and I am the proud new owner of a mini van. Yes, a mini van. I swore I would never, ever, ever drive one. I've heard people compare making the switch from SUV to minivan to that of a dog being neutered. But I gave in to my pride and embraced the convenience of it. The dual dvd players and swiveling seats had me salivating and you throw in the pop up table and remote start and I was begging Jody to go buy one. Sam was happiest about the back up camera and didn't hesitate to say to me, "That's good, Mama. Now you won't run over anymore of our tractors or riding toys." On a side note, I must mention that we have a very big paved driveway. And a very long paved path. And lots of yard. Plenty of place to peddle yourself silly without risking bumping into anything. Jack has always driven like a mad man but has never hit one of our vehicles. Never. Yet, today, the first day the boys have been outside playing since we got the new van, he managed to plow into it not once, but twice, with his red tractor. I have a lovely red mark down the side of my new Mama Mobile. I guess he's getting me back. It was always his riding toys that I plowed over. Lesson learned Jack. Now watch where you're going mister.