Laundry day. I am wearing the pregnancy jeans that I mentioned earlier. The ones that refuse to stay up. Ezra has already told me at least a dozen times that my pants are falling down. "...Your pants are falling down...your pants are really low...I can see your underwear...its a good thing your shirt is so long..." Ah, the eyes (and mouth) of a five year old. He misses nothing. I miss my normal jeans. These stink.
Someone asked me Sunday how much longer I have before the baby comes. I said, "A little over a month." Then I realized that that just wasn't so anymore. My actual due date is the 28th of THIS MONTH. Holy Sh*t!!! Why has this been so hard for me? I am due in 25 days. 25 days more and there will be another baby in my house. I just can't seem to wrap my head around it.
In 25 days will the weather finally be warm? Will our bedroom (AAHHHHHHRGGG!) be done? Will we have decided on a name? (We haven't as of yet....) We shall see.
Four weeks (minus a couple of days...) and counting...I think I just heard the dryer timer go off.