Seriously. TCB. Not Kidding.

We here in the Smith house have gotten so much done so far this weekend that I’m considering changing our initials to “TCB” and getting an lightening bolt tattooed somewhere.

For God’s sake, my husband built a box spring yesterday.

Our home is nearing the home stretch of being “baby ready,” though we have another long day ahead of us. The good news is that after tomorrow, every last thing we need will have been either purchased, shipped, or is officially on its way here. I promise you, and I know this is a common feeling, I am so, SO over bleeding money right now. I’ll grant you that a majority of it has been want more than need, and probably has more to do with me being anal, uptight and persnickety, but just the same, the projects and purchases that have been part of our lives since November were what we wanted to do to prepare for our kid’s arrival. While nothing is perfect, I feel much better knowing that we were able to get certain things in place.

Thanks to everyone for their fantastic advice; I’ve made lists of everything. I love all of the tips. I went ahead and scheduled someone to come clean the house from top to bottom next Monday, and decided we should cut back our spending in some areas so that we could afford this much more regularly for now. You’re all pretty adamant about having someone to help with cleaning, so it seemed like the wise thing to do. It meant finding a cheaper service than the one we had been using, but I’d long suspected we were probably paying more than we needed anyway.

We will have a diaper station on each floor, and I took to heart the advice to make sure I had everything I would need on each floor. Now that we have the new bed upstairs, and a guest room downstairs, this should help do the trick should I not be in any shape to walk up and down the stairs.

I was also glad to hear about the breastfeeding, hunger/thirst tips as I had no idea. I’ll be commandeering a big water jug for each floor, plus some fruit/nut/granola mixtures and yogurt and cheese and crackers. Scott and I decided there was no time like the present to quit with some of the more revolting eating habits we’ve picked up, which is probably good if I’m about to embark on a time period where I’m even hungrier than I am now. And while I love how you all are very pro-ice cream, I’m not pro Not-Getting-Back-Into-My-Clothes! Besides, I can get plenty of calcium from other sources, and if I really need something ice cream-y, there are probably more sensible options. I’ve really enjoyed being able to be a bit more free about eating things like ice cream every day, and the wanton devouring of cupcakes every week, but I’m pretty sure that not nipping that in the bud is how I’ll keep the baby weight.

And because my friend Joey pointed it out: I DO NOT have any unrealistic expectations about weight-loss. I think I forget that not all of you remember the Lose the Buddha days, and how very well aware I am about weight loss in relation to my body. Especially after having a baby. My larger point here is that if I do hope to ever lose the weight in any amount of time, that won’t happen eating full-fat ice cream and cupcakes as though it were my job. ESPECIALLY with my body constitution. Managing my weight has always been incredibly difficult for me, and it takes some effort on my part, and so even if I do go by the “nine months on, nine months off” adage, it’s going to take work.

I wish I could say that this wasn’t important to me – losing the weight and getting back into shape – but alas. This is important to me, and no amount of chiding and discussion about how it shouldn’t be is going to change my mind. If I come to that conclusion on my own, huzzah! But until then, just know that this will be something I talk about here, and know that I don’t have a set time period or even a weight goal in mind so you don’t have to be worried that I’m setting myself up for disappointment.

I’m really achy and sore right now, to the point where by tonight as I was fixing dinner I just stood there and whined for a little while. Just flat out whined. The baby hasn’t dropped, and there is absolutely no position that’s comfortable anymore. My hips are a mess and even as nice as the new bed is, I am pretty sure I told Scott at some point in the middle of the night, as I woke up from the pain radiating from my hips and my IT band, that I’m not sure I can take this every night for the next few weeks.

And don’t get me started on how swollen and sore my legs and feet are. Jessie and I found a fairly cheap mani/pedi place last week and I’ll be going every Saturday until the baby comes because $30 is a small price to pay for someone to rub my legs and feet for more than an hour.

So yeah.  I’m sore and I’m tired and I’m just 37 weeks pregnant and that’s how it goes. This will likely be our last weekend of running around and prepping, so if nothing else, I can rejoice in that if she doesn’t come early, I’ll have three weeks of just moaning and groaning and complaining, as opposed to three weeks of moaning and groaning and complaining and prepping the nursery.

For as tired and in pain as I am, this is a really good time. It really is. I wouldn’t trade a second of it.