We had another ultrasound today to check on the baby’s size–there was some concern that she was measuring on the smaller side for her due date. I was hoping to see what looked like a real little person in there, but with all the fluid and squirming around it was pretty much a blur. They are 100% CERTAIN it is a girl (after the baby showers we can breathe a sigh of relief!), and everything appears to be healthy and in working order–there is plenty of fluid for her which is very good. The conclusion is she may just be a bit of a half pint. Both Chris and I were small when we were born (I was 6 pounds 8 oz, Chris was a little over 7), so it may just be genetic. They didn’t seem too concerned, so I will try not to be either.

Hard to believe that this crazy, wild ride called pregnancy will be coming to an imminent end. Not looking forward too much to the labor part, but that can’t be avoided. It will be STRANGE, SO STRANGE to identify myself as a parent, and to actually have a little breathing, kicking human being in my hands!! But I’m sure it will be wonderful too.

In other news we are frantically finishing house projects, not too many more to go. Just hoping little Renee doesn’t decide to visit us TOO early.

This is my favorite time of year, when the leaves just start to turn and you can smell all the rich smells of leaves, wild grapes and cold soil-rich air. As good a time as ever to have a baby.

It seems like this concert writeup will be our last (sigh!) for a while around the baby’s arrival. Our next concert writeup might have to do with seeing the Wiggles live, or something god awful like that . (no! We won’t let that happen). Anyhoo, it probably will be our last late night concert outing for a while.

Stars hail from Montreal, CA and they are not only talented, but one of the nicest bands around. Not only did they come on stage with a few dozen roses and throw them out to people every once in a while, but they thanked us profusely for being fans and were humble about themselves. (Thurston Moore was playing downstairs at Pearl Street, they were playing upstairs at the same time and kept saying ” I can’t believe you guys would miss thurston moore to see us!”).

Opening for them was Bell x1, a Damien Rice hybrid group from Ireland. They had a good sound but were nothing to write home about. We did however like a little disco ditty they sang that had to do with roasting marshmallows (don’t ask me why!).

It was fun to go out and enjoy one of our last few dates as a young, “free” couple. Life’s sure gonna change in just a couple weeks, but hopefully it will all be for the better. 🙂

I think we will call this the official weekend of finishing projects. At least it is my hope to finish a bunch of stuff this weekend. For once we don’t really have much to do plan wise this weekend. So it will be very nice to get some of the stuff done. Hoping to install a new toliet, paint the kitchen finish the downstairs painting touchups, rewire a couple outlets. ok a lot of things.

here’s crossing my fingers.

If parenting is supposed to be such a wonderful experience, then WHY do people feel the need, at any and every chance, to equate the baby’s arrival with something akin to a trip to the guillotine?

“Enjoy your freedom while you can”

“You’ll never (insert adjective here) once the baby comes”

“Enjoy (sleep/peace and quiet/contenment/breathing) NOW, cause once that baby comes…”

“Say goodbye to your life”.

Now I have in no way assumed that this whole parenting thing is going to be a cakewalk–far from it. I have far too many experiences with friends and relatives babies to know that it’s certainly some hard time you have to put in. I never once assumed that we were going to have the perfect, cooing Gerber baby who never makes a peep, and with whom we could breeze through our old life without any change. Of course not!
I’m at the 10-week point (10 weeks more or less left), so the paranoia is already starting to kick in. So why, I ask you good people, do some people feel the need to compound this paranoia?

Don’t even ask me about the house. We’re doing all we can and I have confidence we’ll get things finished, but living in a construction zone isn’t helping the panicky feelings I’m having. We haven’t even started creating the baby’s room and we’ve bought practically nothing to prepare. My nesting instinct is kicking into overdrive, but I don’t have a nest yet. I have visions of me simply “forgetting” that the baby is arriving and, having not prepared, having to use a bathtub or open drawer as a makeshift crib (well, that’s what the pioneers had to do…er, right??). I also have nightmares that my forays into the first few weeks of motherhood are not unlike that “I Love Lucy” episode where Lucy is “practicing” putting a diaper on a baby doll, and holds the doll upside down and diapers his head instead. As long as I’m not cooking a turkey the same time as I’m holding the baby and I accidentally switch the two…OK this is getting morbid, I’ll stop! (plus I’m even more glad to be a vegetarian for that reason! hard to confuse a kid and a carrot).
I’m imagining that everything I’ve read (which is now getting all mushed up and I’m getting all the information confused. Do I wait 3 weeks or 3 months before I do such and such?) will get instantly forgotten and I’ll end up one of those frazzled moms on Nanny 911 because I skipped an important developmental step, and my child is now destined to be The Unibomber instead of Ghandi.

There’s really nothing I can expect anyone to say to me to make it all better. I know, parenting IS hard, and I’m sure parts of it really DO suck at first. But please, just for these last few weeks that I’m in a hormonal hurricane–convince me that it’s not like a death sentence!!!