The last mile




Sixteen days until my due date, and over the weekend all motivation to finish the bedroom flew out the door. There was about 3 square feet of floor left to paint, and there are papers to shuffle, file, or shred, and a few tools to clean up. There are also some holes to fill in on the walls and touch up with paint. This is what Charlie calls "the last mile", it's when things become "good enough" and I get tired of a project and call it finished.


See? This side of the room is where the floor paint needed finishing (which I did last night!) and some final purging and organizing needs to be done. The clothes on the arm of the chair and the empty pillowcase on the ottoman perform as cat scratch detractors. We'll come up with something prettier over the next couple days, I'm sure. If not, I'll get back to the project in 3 years, when I can tell Fox to go play with his sister.  For now, it's good enough. 

Belly Time



Everyone say hello to giant baby Fox.

We're officially at 37 weeks today, which means we've reached full term. While I say I hope Fox is early, it's only the impatience of a few months of poor sleep, continual hip pain, and a belly that arrives in a room five minutes before I do that hope so.  I want him to be happy and healthy on that great big water slide into the world, and if that means 40 or 41 weeks, so be it.

I've read and memorized every "signs of labor" site on the web, at least the ones that had somewhat reputable sounding names. What do you mean I can't will myself to go into labor? 

Other thoughts on Week 37 (and/or) the 3rd trimester:

Baby Center explains week 37 in layman's terms.


Though in more casual terms this is about right...looks like A Lovely Lark is a week ahead of me (and yes, I'm jealous of that fact).

But if you really want a straight shooter account: AlphaMom knows what it's all about. Her Windex example is the equivalent to my pacing back and forth for half an hour in front of a desk that needed moving right. then. or. I. was. going. to. move. it. myself. On my shoulders, if need be.  


Fox made an appearance in this pic (striped sweater, lower left).


Playing House



Enough with the sale talk, I know. Bit by bit, small investment by small investment, we're getting our room finished.



I found a good deal on velvet World Market curtains in "Latte", 2 neutral beige 3x5 rugs on clearance with free shipping from PB Teen, and stalked Craigslist until I found a glider that was good quality and affordable. The glider is a little awkward, visually because it's red gingham and the rest of the room is neutraled out and somewhat modern. I'm not sure how to tone the the "country" look down. Any suggestions?

We already had a mid-century walnut dresser, mid-century teak desk, and 2 Adrian Pearsall end tables (all found over the years on Craigslist). Charlie made the sconces out of ipe wood. My knot painting, still unfinished, hangs above the bed, and an affirmation banner from Secret Holiday hangs on the wall across from the bed.
So far everything else is pretty sparse and I like it that way; we have too few "sparse" spaces in our house. I think I've told Charlie every single night before bedtime that I like our grown up bedroom. It's fun to play house with him.



Ch ch changes



Mabel drew a picture of her little brother, something Charlie and I both celebrated somewhat quietly. A drawing felt like a huge step in the direction of acceptance: acceptance that change is on it's way, and will (has) arrive with the arrival of a little brother.

It's been trying, interesting, and a slowly evolving experience letting Mabel know she has a safe place with us and will not be replaced by her brother. M's first reaction was that she didn't want a brother, he must be a sister. She eventually accepted that he will be a boy, but firmly (and often) let us know she would not be sharing her strollers, her toys, or anything else of hers with him. All the while, when I sit on the couch and she snuggles up next to me, Boy-in-my-Belly maneuvers into a ball next to Mabel, so my belly is bulging off to the side. I think he already knows and loves her voice. We point it out to M, doing our best to know she's an integral part of the family.



Following a link from Aesthetic Outburst, I landed on Molasses Candy. It's comforting to read stories of similar anxiety over transition and celebration of artistic expression. Her post on drawing faces inspired me to look into the stages of children's artistic development. I loved reading this blog post from The Wonder Years about the Pre-Schematic Stage.