Blogging Tuesday and publishing Wednesday, due to the awesomeness that is Christmas Eve tomorrow!
Gimme a break, it's Christmas. And HEY! Nobody told Daddy to make like 10 dozen chocolate chip cookies! No, seriously! My husband, who is apparently trying to help me up towards the right side of that stupid doctor's scale even more, made 10. Dozen. Cookies. And those were just the chocolate chip! He made 4 dozen peanut butter, 4-5 batches of sugar cut-outs, and oh yeah! Two dozen whole wheat flour, splenda-sweetened, dark-chocolate dipped, sugar-free candy cane-topped sugar cookies. Well we did have a heck of snow day, what do you do but stay and bake? And unbutton your jeans.
I bagged 'em up and put 'em in the pantry where they can do considerably less damage until we get a chance to portion them out and give them away - you may find some on your doorstep. They're mighty tasty - chocolate chip are epic - but I want these gone.
A pound a week? That's all baby, right? RIGHT?
Aw, less wrinkled? I bet she's so cute! In a bright-pink old man kind of way. Now that we're considering a January birthday (and a garnet birthstone), I'm really wondering if she'll get my hair, at least at birth. Maddie couldn't look less like me if she tried...
Double take: I'm sorry, did that thing just say 54 days to go??? That's it? When did that happen? Weren't we at over a hundred around last week? And that's with the regular 40-week delivery due date. I'm supposed to be "prepared for the possibility of delivering around 38 weeks". Holy frijoles, I have stuff to do! There's clothes and toys to sort though (because we may or may not have just thrown them into boxes in the attic) and the whole matter of Little D's room being used as storage for awkward things like outdoor summer plants.
Ok, it's commitment time. I solemnly swear to make Christmas break and beyond "LITTLE D PREP TIME". Compared to the amount of prep that went into Maddie (neatly washed and folded onesies were already in drawers long before this point!) I've shirked my mommy-to-be duties majorly. I feel awful. Oh look, the guilt starts early with this one! I promise to spend January not re-remembering that I am indeed pregnant and that's why my back hurts. Make that room look like it's about to welcome a little baby girl in (ACK!) 8 weeks or less. This is the last time I intend to go through all this, I'd like to sit up, slow down, and take notice of it.
I think once the tree goes after Epiphany (yes, we leave ours up till the 6th of January, there are 12 days of Christmas, people!) we'll rearrange the living room and put the baby swing out so everybody gets nice and used to it. It'll take that long for Max to stop bumping it anyway.