Tuesday, December 4, 2007

8 more days = much sarcastic apostrophe-ing

I cannot believe this child is due next week.

I spent the day "nesting". And by "nesting" I mean "not".

I don't know about you but whenever I hear that word I immediately picture plump women folding baby clothes while sipping chamomile tea - which seems like exactly the sort of Vaseline-smeared life I should be leading before being covered in milk vomit. My version seems a bit less... pastel. I spent the bulk of the morning on my hands and knees scrubbing grime off the base of the toilet. Then I attacked the moldy shower tile grout with a bleach pen. (Someone told me it works. It doesn't.) I followed that with a complete overhaul of the fridge (why do I have two jars of molasses? Wait, why do I have one jar of molasses?), then lugged ten pounds of miscellany to Housing Works before hitting up TJ Maxx and Babies R Us for some last-minute bath gear.

What happened to the napping and pie baking? Why aren't I making casseroles and learning how to knit? Where's my goddamn chamomile tea?

I can't seem to shake that Beat The Clock feeling. I suspect I'm not alone in this (martyr, thy name is Mommy) but I'm not alone in this, right? Anybody else hit warp speed in those precious pre-baby days? More importantly, anybody got any good stew recipes?

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