23 weeks: and I'm panicking.

 


Let's just be real honest here for a second. Circle of blog trust? Why thank you.

I am at a solid 8 right now on the meltdown threat scale. Susie alert level is at red.

Here's the thing.

I'm 23 weeks pregnant. I remember this time with Sam vividly. It was so peaceful. So lovely. I was helping to plan Jessica's baby shower, making cute little banners and diaper cakes, and knowing that the four months I had left would be the absolute right amount of time to do some light house rearranging/gutting/cleaning/obsessive nesting, cash in my "I'm having a baby" card to get some honey-do projects done that had nothing to do with a baby arriving, and make the most adorable little Pinterest nursery you ever did see.

Life at 23 weeks this round looks a little different.

First of all, I have a 16 month old that sucks. Ok, he doesn't suck. HE personally does not suck. But he does time sucks. He does not allow me to make cute little banners or diaper cakes during Teen Wolf marathons. I mean, rude, right?

Second of all, this baby's final four months of cooking come during the holidays; well final two months to be exact. So in addition to gestating a human life and maintaining a toddler human life, I'm staring down the Holly Jolly gun of Christmas gifts, events, and hub bub. Sorry Baby Girl, you are already number 2 behind Christmas.

Four months is not going to be enough time.
We are going to need a bigger gestation.

I might still be throwing up every morning but I'd gladly tack on another 3-4 weeks just to get everything done before I enter the land of Two under Two. Because as much fun as that land sounds like.... (yikes)

It boils down to I have the nesting bug and there isn't much I can do about it anymore. I've hit a "heavy lifting" phase and I no can haz heavy lift. It's very frustrating. These are the problems that plague my life right now. I'm this close to having my own Sarah MacLaughlin ad.

Basically, I'm living in a nesting domino set up and I need pieces to start falling yesterday so that I can get from the nitty gritty (selling bedroom furniture) to the fun stuff (how much glitter is too much in a nursery?). And let's be honest, Chuck and I have always moved at different speed. My is hyper drive. His is glacial.

Really, some of my urgency is the impending doom of a second child, part is wanting to avoid adding any additional hysteria to the Holidays, but mostly it's Sam. I need to start his transition to Big Brother and give him time to adjust. His room is getting upgraded into big boy status - changing table out, rocking chair out, and eventually (god help me) crib out, bed in. In order to give him a gradual step into all of this, things need to start moving. Once that's done, THEN I can start on Baby Kate's nursery.

OBVIOUSLY, that's exactly how I explained everything to Chuck, so calmly.

You're right, we left the circle trust there for the square of lies. Now we are back.

Charles noted that he had not received a work order from me or any sort of paper trail on this subject aside from random rants and the babblings of an insane pregnant woman over ice cream. He asked that I submit a work project form to the production department of Allison Central. You might say, Ha ha, funny Chuck. I say "done and done". So obviously I spent all of nap time making one. Those floors can mop themselves tomorrow.

For your reading pleasure, my formal work request form submitted to Chuck.


It might not seem like much on paper, but trust me. I have a full guest room to empty. A play room to move into a guest room. A Sam room to make big boy and a little baby girl room to make perfect.

UNknocked up and this wouldn't be too bad, but now I'm too pregnant to lift half this stuff. Chuck just started his MBA so he's DOA. And Sam, again, time sucks.

Maybe I'll schedule my C-section for March? I think I could go an extra 10 weeks to get it all done.

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