37 Weeks - Wherefore art thou, HomeValley?

It seems my husband has a point, you guys: I really can't sit still. I can't stop planning things. I was like this before baby; I am like this pregnant with baby. J has already warned me that I am not to plan like a madwoman whilst on my maternity leave. To which I say to myself: good luck.

This past week hasn't left me with a spare moment to update! Last Monday, we had my mother over for dinner. I roasted a chicken as she checked out the nursery, then J and I tried desperately to teach her how to use her new iPod touch. Have you tried downloading music with your parents yet? I highly recommend. My mom loves Prince and The Moody Blues, apparently.

Tuesday night we had a pediatrician lecture as part of our prenatal class schedule. Would you assume that I am the lass who asked the question about vaccination links to autism, sending the seasoned doctor on a ten minute diatribe? If so, then you know me too well. Let's grab a cup of coffee together soon. I'll get my planner.

Wednesday evening I journeyed to the Lehigh Valley to see my extraordinarily talented cousin Anthony in this musical. He's fabulous, by the way.

Thursday I had Koos and her delightful boys over for lunch. This just in: kids are a lot of work. Especially at lunch time. I should make a note of that in my day planner or something. But they are truly adorable children, and I finally had some toys (eh - books) for them to play with, and we read a lot about the fish of the ocean. I could get used to reading books all day about aquatic life.

After lunch, whilst juggling work, I headed to the hair salon to prepare for my baby-birthing close-ups. I met my mother-in-law there (I love that we share a stylist); and she gifted me with an animal trap.

Thursday night? The HomeValleys went huntin'.

Oh yeah - the vermin? Definitely a raccoon. (Spoiler alert: we still haven't caught it yet. Tis a brazen, illusive little fucker.)

Friday we exercised at the track (read: I walked really slowly and chugged gatorade). My memory is foggy, but I think we actually stayed in! Our actual home! And possibly we tried to watch Fringe but passed out around 9 PM. Is it any wonder?

Saturday we did brunch and a cloth diaper run. Holy Lord, I love these diaps. Now no naysayer can bring down my cloth diaper high! We also went to Lowe's and bought flowers, and I gardened! Which was super-fun, until I got sleepy and needed to rest and drink iced tea as J did what it is you do with mulch.

Sunday morning I woke early, dressed in my workout gear, and headed to the Art Museum - by way of Grace's - for the MS Walk. Mr. Patterson's Misfits were a force to be reckoned with: when all was said and done, we raised over 12,000 bucks! Yours truly was responsible for quite a small portion of that, but there's always next year. It was a fabulous day in support of a fabulous woman.

And yesterday? Mama worked about 14 hours, though don't feel too bad for me. I spent my night in a luxury suite at the Phils game, rubbing elbows with Jim Eisenreich and gorging on Chickie's and Pete's crab fries.

Oh! And last night? While at the game, trying to select a tee-shirt size for a co-worker? I described her as thin but "busty."

"Well, what size are you normally?" the sales clerk asked me. "You're pretty chesty as well."

Seriously, you guys? There has never been a time in my life where ANYONE could deign to call me CHESTY.

Thanks, Ninj.

Are you guys as tired reading this as I am jotting it all down for posterity?

I know, I know. Tomorrow we'll get back to our regularly scheduled pregnancy tales of neuroses. Like, how I am obsessed with the firmness of my crib mattress? How I yelled at J on Sunday night (before breaking down into heaving sobs) that I am NINE MONTHS pregnant! And for the next 3 weeks, anything I say GOES, buddy! You just listen to me! That is your job!

And: the nursery. Which, J and I can't seem to pass without sneaking into and sitting down in the heavenly glider. I don't think either of us can quite believe that there will be a baby here in a few short weeks. So we sit and we rock and we stare. And sometimes we read books to Ninj, and J talks in this extremely high-pitched voice because one day I told him I read that babies respond better to high voices.

Oh, Ninj. You are going to just love your extremely geeky parents.