Nesting List

Edited version: Thanks to those of you who have noticed I've been silent here. I hope to be back soon. I appreciate your prayers and kind emails. Nothing terrible is happening here. Just lots and lots of little details. I've made great progress on my list (though I admit I probably need new list for things that have crept up since;-) . I'm updating here today, but refraining from adding all the new things because, quite frankly, for one day, I'd like to hold onto the illusion of forward progress;-)

What is it about me that makes me think I need to have my house perfectly in order to have a baby? Partly, it's history. The times when I've left an ordered house at home and gone to deliver have been my best labors and deliveries. Coincidence? Maybe. But after eight such experiences, I'll take it as science around here. And then there's the postpartum period.  The more organized I am, the better things go. Absolutely. When one flirts with postpartum depression every time and has met it on occasion, this is a big, big incentive to get one's act together.  This time, the threat of bedrest has accelerated the nesting stage.

Fortunately, last winter, I thought we were moving. So, I did some major de-cluttering and organizing. We were in pretty good shape. For about three weeks. And then, I was pregnant. I spent the first nineteen weeks of this pregnancy in the throes of severe nausea and vomiting. I didn't move much. I didn't clean as well as I would like; didn't supervise as much as needed. I did, however, devote a great deal of time to things I could do while sitting very, very still. I planned most of my lessons in great detail and I reorganized my home notebook. Then, I lost the notebook files in the lightning strike. I'm slowly reworking them on the new computer. Now, I have seven weeks to kick it all into gear and put the plans in motion. Then, if bedrest isn't necessary, I could be in very good shape moving into the third trimester. And if it is necessary, we'll do just fine. So, here, for accountability and curiosity purposes is the list;chances are it will get longer before it gets shorter:

• bedroom switch: girls
• bedroom switch: boys
• shop for Michael's dorm
• help Michael with menus and groceries
• get Michael off to school
• reorganize picture books
• clean out bookbags
• re-stock bookbags
• replenish school supplies (tax free weekend Aug 1-3)
• completely de-clutter learning room (Did this but it needs doing again already.)
• reorganize DVD/video closet
• clean out refrigerator top to bottom; disinfect
• clean out indoor freezer
• defrost deep freeze
• stock freezer
• clean out pantries
• re-stock pantries
• clean mudroom
• laundry caught up
• clean out closets
• wash baby clothes and fill drawers
• order more diapers
• new changing table pad
• shop and wrap Christmas presents
• wipe out inside of all kitchen cabinets
• paint kitchen
• paint trim in sunroom
• paint sunroom?
• paint basement
• basement trim
• family room trim
• craft/storage room organized
• toys organized in the basement
• new ballet schedule/teacher
• new soccer teams
• organize sports driving schedule
• update religious exemption filing
• all kids to dentist
• all kids to orthodontist
• find a new pediatrician
• dog to the vet (We did this but he needs a re-check. Not sure when I'll get to that since Michael was doing the vet visits and he's not due back until Thanksgiving;-)
• finish lesson plans through January
• write columns ahead of deadlines
• clean out the garage
• add new lasagna layer to front bed (Waiting for the weather to cool a bit and I'll combine this with fall planting.)
• add new lasagna layer to roses

Humility

This evening, at the maternity store (because once again I have nothing that fits).

Me, to the very kind saleslady: Do you think I should get this one size up?

Saleslady: Oh, no, I think it's fine and you don't have much longer, do you? You're nearly there. How far along are you?

Me: Um. Twenty-one weeks.

Saleslady (her jaw dropping to her chin and her eyes fixed on my belly): Oh, deeeeaaaar....

I bought the next size up;-)

Of course, it's about the clothes...

A couple of weeks ago, I was listening to commentary on FOXNews about the pregnancy pact. I have lots of thoughts about this particular phenomenon, most of which are expressed very well by Stef. But one expert in Gloucester truly connected some dots for me. She surmised that one of the big draws for these teenaged girls--young teenaged girls--was that maternity clothes had become so chic, so totally hip. Let me re-phrase that: high school freshmen and sophomores are eager to get pregnant becuae they know they'll look pretty darn cute in today's maternity fashions.

And that explains a lot.

It explains why my maternity clothes left from pregnancies with Michael and Christian (20 and 17 years ago) still fit better than clothes of the same brand and size purchased recently. It explains why there is no room in these new shirts for matronly breasts. There isn't even room for full-grown breasts. The shirts are cut so low that a regular,  normal, mature bra shows above the neckline. The skirts are cut so high that one cannot reach up and lift a frightened five-year-old out of a tree. These clothes are cut for a fifteen-year-old.

So, what are grown up moms who aren't built like either Angelina Jolie or a high school cheerleader wearing these days? I'll tell you one thing, my old, old maternity clothes are priceless.

Happiness is...

maternity jeans! I pulled on an old, old pair this morning before heading out to muck around in the mud. I consoled myself by noting that the label said 4P. I haven't worn anything 4P in about a million years, so who cares if this pair of jeans has a drawstring and stretch panel? At least the button isn't about to burst. And they are so very comfortable. Even better, I reached into the back pocket and pulled out a stash of cash that's probably six years old. Did you know that McDonald's has free chicken sandwiches today? I think I can even spring for some French fries to go with that! Oh happy day, we're off to see how high the creek did rise.

New Life as we Know It

Many, many thanks for all your prayers and good wishes for our new baby. You asked about a due date (though some of you caught the ticker in the sidebar;-). Remember that novena my children prayed before the Feast of the Immaculate Conception? The baby is due December 8. Of course, I have had only one baby on my due date. The rest are mostly late. But that one baby was my December baby. And there are oh so very many wonderful December feasts that I'm pretty much assured of festive little bundle.

Hyperemesis Gravidarum has set in with a vengeance. What's that mean? It's Greek and Latin for "Mommy is throwing up all the time. Please be quiet and good." It also means that I obsess about the the perfect food that I'm sure will make me feel perfectly well within minutes. And then I eat it and then--well, I never want to eat it again for the rest of my life. It means I can't eat any sugar or any fruit. If I eat a carb, I need twice as much protein to go with it. It means, in the words of someone who knows, "steak is my friend."  Hyperemesis is getting up at four o'clock every morning because my blood sugar bottoms out and I need to eat. The rest of the day hinges upon whether or not I can go back to sleep. It means that when my husband calls to ask if he can bring me anything on the way home from work, I wish for a fleeting moment that I had Sarah's husband and I ask if he could bring me an IV. I don't even know Sarah's husband; I just know he actually can bring her an IV. Ah...to get hydrated without having to swallow.

Hyperemesis means that my inbox is stuffed to full but it's really hard to put two words together on a consistent basis. I'm much better at reading than writing. So, if you've sent me an email in the last six weeks and I didn't answer, please don't take it personally. I read it, but then I had to leave the computer to throw up;-). And now you know why I didn't get to go see the Pope. I was too afraid of being sick on the Metro or in the crowds.

And what about all those housekeeping resolutions? Well, in all honesty, the major cleaning out was spurred along at break neck speed because I thought we might be looking at major house changes as of  June 1st. We're not. Another long story. For now, let's just say that St. Joseph and I are tight and all heaven had mercy on me. But I'm so glad I put so much effort into cleaning and creating calm. It's stood me in good stead. The house isn't quite what it was a couple of months ago, but it could be if I had, say, a second trimester reprieve. Oh, and the ironing? I haven't touched it in three weeks. The smell of ironing spray makes me gag. But my mom is coming in a couple of weeks and she likes to iron. There's hope.

Patrick has taken over all the cooking. He's a beast in the kitchen. At least that is what he tells me and he tells me that's a good thing. One of his soccer buddies has a chef for a dad. Paddy's taking notes. The kids assure me they're eating well. I'll take their word for it. The kitchen is to be avoided at all costs, save for desperate 4AM runs when I pray all the way down the stairs that the children cleaned up well after dinner and there will be no surprises in the sink.

And what about "school?" We're limping along. Marisa and Colleen are helping to write Serendipity and we are moving oh-so-slowly. Fortunately, it's beautiful outside and we usually spend lots of time outside this time of year anyway.Rebecca continues to keep us supplied with botany lessons. I've planned for it. We will buckle down again in the second trimester when it's 100 degrees outside with 95% humidity.

All in all, I'm grateful for nausea. It's a constant reminder that I'm still pregnant. And really, the view from the couch isn't all that bad.