Tuesday, February 26, 2008


My husband has been in full-on 'Babygate '08' mode. Nevermind the fact that we don't have a name picked out for the child. (Seriously. Not even a 'if they're kicking us out of the hospital and we need something for the birth certificate' name.) Instead of figuring out what we will name the bugger, my husband has moved on to his own version of nesting. He wants to have the nursery ready by March 1 (yes, this Saturday) and has been burning through child-rearing books at a pace usually reserved for Sports Illustrated or home theater magazines. He even tore open the car seat base (one of the gifts from my parents for our shower on March 15 that was delivered to our house with explicit instructions that it not be opened until the shower) and spent most of Saturday figuring out how to install it in our cars. Every five minutes he'd run back in the house with an update and a look of pride in his ability to figure out the mess of hooks, belts and fasteners.

I've been busting my butt on little one's bedding and associated nursery goods and while I doubt I'll hit the March 1 husband-imposed deadline, it's been fun planning everything. I'm excited to get it done so I can show it off but until then, sneak peeks of the planning process will have to suffice.

About a week ago, I put aside my other work and whipped out a few appliqued onesies for a friend that's having triplets. I always enjoy making gifts for multiples - finding ways to make items that are similar enough to be part of a set but different enough to avoid the dreaded matching outfit syndrome - and think these came out particularly cute. I hope nobody ever figures out how easy it is to make these onesies (I think I finished three onesies in under 45 minutes) - by far one of my favorite baby gifts to make and give.

Between childbirth classes, infant CPR training, pediatrician appointments, the every-other-week (soon to be every week) doctor's appointments, a few trips to the UGA Small Animal Teaching Hospital (another story for another time) and lunches with friends who I know I won't have time to see once the kid makes an appearance, I managed to accomplish two things off of my 101 list.

Earlier this month I visited my friend Stew's opening of his Painted Flower a Day project. I loved reading about it and seeing him give away flowers as the year progressed - the show was the proverbial icing. He did a great job of putting it all together and, at the risk of sounding patronizing, I'm damn proud of him. My flowers (the original flower he gave me in August and the new flower I cut out at the show that night) are hanging from the shelf in my studio, just waiting for the next time I need a little boost of inspiration.

Although I'm not running now (the basketball lodged in my abdomen makes it a little difficult), my husband has been enjoying his Christmas present and I plan to join him in hitting the pavement once little Tito makes his appearance and my body returns to its non-freaklike state. Although we both know we should carry identification while running outside, neither of us ever goes through the effort of pulling our license out of our wallet and finding a place to hold it that won't cause chafing of very sensitive body parts. (Plus, if you've ever been to the DMV in Atlanta, you know that the idea of losing your license and having to wait for a new one is enough to make a person lock their license in a vault and only remove it in case of an emergency.) The answer to this dilemma? Road ID. For less than the cost of a new license, I have my very own Road ID complete with vecro strap and 4 'in case of emergency' numbers. I was impressed with how quickly it arrived and how light it really is (a consideration for my husband who already has the Nike kit attached to one shoe). Good peace of mind - especially since my husband is often running by himself while traveling in towns where he doesn't know a soul.

Other than that, life is pretty darn normal. I'm still wearing my 4" heels, going to yoga twice a week and feeling great. I'm finally at peace with the fact that I'm huge and while I'm told that there will come a point when I'll want to serve the child an eviction notice, for now I'm fine with him hanging out and making his presence known every once and a while with a kick in the ribs.


justem said...

4" heels! You are crazy! I'd fall over and I'm not even pregnant!

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