37 weeks and counting

We are getting so excited over here. I think we've settled on a name (though I'm not ready to share yet), and her carseat should be delivered today. My birth kit arrived last week (the birth kit contains everything that the midwives need and want for delivering this baby here at home, plus an herbal bath that I couldn't resist!), and her moses basket is set up in front of my bedroom window, next to the shelf holding all her diapers and clothes. Oh, one package of disposable diapers are on their way - I use cloth, but the first few days after delivery, when we are all getting to know eachother, and all so exhausted, we'll use disposable so that I'm not over-working myself by doing too much laundry.

We're also getting kind of ansy (antsy?) over here. My body is nearing the end of it's rope, and causing me to act out of character... I'm showing the girls and Andy so much less patience then they deserve, and the girls might as well be under quarantine for my energy level is so low we spend most all day every day here, inside the house. (BTW - a mild cool front is headed our way later this week. We'll be 99' instead of 101'. I rolled my eyes when they actually called that a mild cool front - a 2 degree change can hardly be called a front.)

We've made a sign, and hung it above the moses basket, "We can't wait to meet you, Baby Name-yet-to-be-revealed!" The girls are constantly playing with their dolls and stuffed animals as their newly born babies (also, that they are new neighbors - inspiration is easy to come by!).

In all our baby preparation preoccupaton, one of our cats Oscar, has been losing weight. He and his sister, Little Bit, turned 14 on July 5th. We kind of figured, well, it's getting close to his time, we'll make sure he still always has access to food and water, but we began talking with the girls about him not being with us much longer. Well I feel like an idiot. True, his days are limited, but it took me quite awhile to figure out that he was losing weight because he couldn't eat, not because he wouldn't. Rather suddenly, the crunchy food he's been gobbling up happily for years is just too crunchy. So, once this realization hit me like a ton of bricks, he's been a much happier cat. Still skinner, but he was a 20lb cat - some wight loss is okay. We still have quite a bit of crunchy food, so I'm alternating serving canned food with the crunchy food soaked in chicken broth, and all 3 cats (Haley is the baby at 10 years old) seem happier.

Oh, and I have to say, previously I blogged about the steam mops, noting that the steamers were difficult to push along the floor. Well it turns out that using the mop on the tile is amazing - it glides really well, cleaning the floor so much faster then if I were on my hands and knees scrubbing it (something about the linoleum in the bathroom causes it to show so much resistance, I guess). So, while I still love my Eureka Envior Steamer so much more than the Shark, my criticism that the Shark commercial was incredibly misleading may have been too harsh - it's entirely possible that the Shark glides on tile the way the Eureka does. :-) And, I'm glad the linoleum is only in the bathrooms! I've yet to try the hardwood floor of my bedroom, maybe later today.

I stumbled upon this poem today, and while I plan on keeping it in mind those first few weeks postpartum, I think it's important to remind myself that 3 1/2 year olds don't keep, and nor do 7 year olds. Maybe cleaning my bedroom floor can wait, after all!

"Song for a Fifth Child."

Mother, oh Mother,

come shake out your cloth,

empty the dustpan,

poison the moth,

hang out the washing

and butter the bread,

sew on a button

and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house

is so shocking?

She's up in the nursery,

blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little

Boy Blue (lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

Dishes are waiting and bills are past due

(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).

The shopping's not done

and there's nothing for stew

and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo

but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.

Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?

(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing

will wait till tomorrow,

for children grow up,

as I've learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down, cobwebs.

Dust go to sleep.

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

~Ruth Hulburt Hamilton~