People condescend towards pregnant women. It's, oh, don't lift that bag of groceries (but the 20-plus pound toddler is fine?!?!) and oh, isn't that sweet, she's having a craving, if you pick up a pickle or order an ice cream cone.

Have you ever heard of the term "nesting?"

This term refers to the flurry of activity women begin to engage in during the final months of pregnancy. People think it mostly has to do with redecorating.

Last night, K and I took a bath together. This is less romantic than it sounds; our tub is a miserable beige shower-wall combo, and the drain leaks slowly and steadily, plus we're both pretty large people, so mostly it was an exercise in contortion and a lot of water-splashing as we attempted to, I don't know, actually submerge more than a half-inch of our limbs?

Anyhow. As we sat in rapidly cooling water, he murmured into my hair, you've been kind of bipolar lately.

Said I sweetly, how?

Said he, you know, about the house. It is coming along and everyone's working really hard. You just really want it to be done.

Said I, umm, YEAH.

New-baby-time is batten-down-the-hatches-and-hold-your-breath time, and I think women know this. You want to get stuff done? Assemble a bunch of third-trimester women who have THE BIGGEST DEADLINE THAT YOU CAN IMAGINE and believe you me, it will get done.

I am preparing for the arrival of this child with the precision of a five-star fucking general-- don't call it nesting, or I might EAT YOU.

Finances? Reorganized and in order. Dogwalking, house-cleaning, grocery shopping? Delegation, dear friends, but it will be getting done. Annaliese's routine? Will be firmly established in the new house at least 30 days prior to due date. Garden? It'll be planted. Kitchen? It'll be FINISHED.  Small pool in the courtyard with a privacy screen so I can labor in warm water? You better believe it. All our furniture scraped and repainted? Mmmhmm. 

Because here's my job when the baby arrives (look at me saying arrives, like it's that easy. Heh. Let me rephrase: after I (and God) get him here).

I will be climbing into our new bed (being ordered this week) and I will be resting. Eating. Feeding the new baby. And doing my best to give Annaliese lots of love and attention. 

There will be no laundry, no housework, no bill-paying, no dog-walking-- for at least a month. And I certainly don't anticipate having the time to deal with closet shelves or screening in the porch or repainting a bookcase for a solid year, considering the fact that I'm going to have two children in diapers.

K. didn't call my preparations nesting. He just kissed the top of my head and agreed when I pointed out that it made sense to deal with everything we possibly can right now since we won't be able to later.

Wise man :)