Still finishing up my long-neglected to-do list before the baby gets here in six (!) weeks or so. November second is the tentative induction date.
But, I have been having contractions every time I move and generally feeling as though this child is going to just fall out the next time I sneeze. So who knows? Yes. I have told my doctor. His response was to tell me to drastically reduce my activity. From what? I wondered on Twitter yesterday. I don’t think it’s possible for me to be any less active right now, since, the alternative is, you know, moving, which causes contractions, which, you know, hurt.
Anyway, its probably a good thing I have gotten my list somewhat under control. My random alphabet letters are hung, the horse is finished, the itty-bitty baby clothes we have managed to collect are all washed and tucked away in drawers.
I’ve even gotten the kid signed up for her art club, and the ever present soccer, as well as something called “Run Walk Club”- Which quite honestly, I have no idea what its about, though I am assuming they spend their time running and/or walking. I only signed her up because it was free, it gives me an extra 40 minutes of alone-time, and it saves me from having to deal with the brunt of the hell that is the parent pick up line.
(You know, the one that makes me write posts about how I want to run people over for no real reason other than its hot and I’ve been in my car for an hour and holy shit, stop texting and doing your makeup, get back IN your car, get your kid and get the fuck out of my way already!)
But, um, I digress, again. Sorry.
So I signed her up for this thing. I have so got it under control. Right? Maybe.
Last night, while I was twitching due to random contracting, the husband asked if we should maybe, you know, get a bag ready, in case?
I forgot about that. What else am I forgetting about?
Seriously, help me out here. It’s been awhile since I have done this. Here’s the facts:
I have roughly 6 weeks to go, barring any surprises. Which, given my history, are possible. One of those weeks I will be alone, because the kid and man are going to a wedding.
(Well, not alone, I will have my large, terrifying rottweiler and vicious chihuahua something that’s definitely not a chihuahua with me, you stalker pervs who are planning on using this chance to steal my horse on a stick. )
We have: A crib. A bassinet. A carseat and a stroller. A swing.
Some clothes, (But I kind of can’t remember how many and of what sizes I need. ) Some receiving blankets. A pack of bibs. Six bottles and a drying rack. One bedset with matching crap. A diaper bag. A “boppy”.
What am I forgetting?