I’m feeling the strong urge to nest. There is one flaw in this plan: I am simply too exhausted to actually do anything of consequence. Right now I’m trying to decide if this is the result of a cruel joke by Mother Nature (i.e. making a VERY pregnant woman feel the need — because this definitely goes far beyond any kind of want classification — to do something that is beyond her physical and mental capabilities, therefore making her slowly go insane) or a brilliant plan by the same Mother Nature to make fathers feel just the tiniest inkling of the pain and exhaustion that the mother is feeling as she runs him ragged cleaning, buying, installing, and just generally preparing the house and car for an addition to the family. I haven’t decided, but I do know that the fact that this is the first weekend in four weeks that we’ve been home isn’t helping the situation…
Fingers crossed that everyone lives to see the birth of Baby Girl Connolly. This is not a given.