Itsy Bitsy

There is going to be a little person who will fit into these,

which, by the way, have to be the cutest tiniest perfectest things I have ever laid eyes on.

Next to Dr. Nails of course, though he is not so little.

Oh, and the Hannah Dog, she's pretty darn cute most of the time too.

Three more weeks!!!

So many choices, so little time

Progress!

Progress means that the gyp rock is up and mudding is happening!

Progress means that there is much dust due to the sanding of said mud!

Progress means we are closer to moving on up!

These are all such good things, yes?

So I wonder, when did Progress become such a dirty word?

I think it was when Dr. Nails said that fateful word:

Choose.

I believe it is a word that most women fear, and yes, I did just say fear.

It's an inherent thing, this fear, and it runs deep within my soul.

Carpet samples cause this fear to bubble up.

As do paint chips.

Particularly that hideous thing they call a color wheel.

Who invented that thing?!

They should rename it the wheel of terror.

And then there's fabric swatches.

Although I kind of like the fabric store, so full of patterns and textures,

so many different things to choose from.

Wait, did I just say I like that?

These hormones are getting out of control...

Have I mentioned how much I loathe that damn word?

Tuning in Tuning out

They say once a baby is born it will respond to certain songs or sounds it heard in utero, 

such as the theme song to say, Desperate Housewives.

I guess it makes sense, seeing as those sounds remind it of when it was 

tucked in safe and warm in mama's belly.

Dr. Nails has been onto this theory for some time now, 

playing an interesting array of music for the baby including - but not limited to - 

Metallica, Steve Earl, and Rage Against the Machine.  

Now, while I may occasionally appreciate a rousing rendition of 'Guitar town' or 

'Tweeter and the Monkey Man',  I can't help but wonder what sort of long-lasting effects this 

kind of music may have on our unborn child.

Poor Baby.

So, in an attempt to salvage the poor things ears and perhaps it's taste in music as well,

I have finally decided to take matters into my own hands.

An experiment gone awry?

Perhaps, but I guess only time will tell, 

we'll see what this kid is like as a teenager and then point fingers.

In the near future though I think I may insist on music a little more age - appropriate, 

something more along the lines of Neil Young, or maybe Tom Petty.

We just might even have to re-learn the words to 'the wheels on the bus'.

Or is that a song you just make up as you go?

( I don't think the baby will care about the words anyways : )

Editor's Note:

For those of you upset about the positioning of the dresser drawer in the previous post,
my apologies, I was not really aware that there was a protocol to that sort of thing,
I just figured on the bottom the baby wouldn't have as far to fall....  

Ready or Not....

There, I think this is as ready as we're going to get.

The baby will never know, right?

As long as none of you tell...

Up against the wall

While I've been slaving away at retirement,

Dr. Nails and his trusted helpers have been hard at work, 

making these rooms actually look like rooms.

This is our beautiful master suite:

 Can you picture a rocking chair down by those windows? 

( yep, me too )

A view from the master bath through the walk - in closet:

  I like to refer to that middle area as 'wardrobe / hair & make up', like I'm in the movies.

( Hey, it's as close as I'm gonna get.  Dare to dream )

And a look at the front corner of the family room:

This room is the connecting piece, on the same level as the current house. 

( Which I like to call the 'piece de resistance' )

It's all thanks to this guy and all of you other guys out there who know who you are.

Pondering Retirement

It's a whole new world when you no longer have a schedule,

so many doors suddenly swing open for you.

Behind door number 1:

The Nap.

Now the nap is a very special thing; 

what was once enjoyed only on rainy weekend afternoons

can now be had any time of the day or night.

Behind door number 2:

The Book.

Another enjoyable past time that was previously reserved for the weekend,

or tuesday night when there is nothing on TV worth watching.

Now the act of reading can be enjoyed at one's leisure.

And door number 3?

The Freedom.

Being able to go anywhere and do anything whenever one wants.

Costco on a tuesday afternoon?  No problem!

 Appointment on thursday morning?  You're covered!

Coffee break?  How about right now!

Ah, I think this is something I could get used to.

Well, at the very least I am going to try to enjoy it for the next 5 weeks and 5 days,

because after that none of the above will ever be possible or easy again!

Warming up the North Wing

Despite the fact that I have a beach ball attached to my midriff,

I still can't help but be cold sometimes. 

( remember - I still am the coolest preggo chick in town : )

Seeing as Baby Covey will undoubtably take after it's mother in all the worst ways,

and that the Hannah Dog has been known to stick her tail in radiators in a feeble attempt to stay warm,

Dr. Nails has made it his very own personal mission to keep his little family cosy and warm.

It's a big job.  And a big responsibility.

One he will be hearing about for the rest of his days if he doesn't get it right.

You men all know what I'm talking about, those words you all dread -

"Honey, I'm freezing, can you turn up the heat?" 

As you can see he IS doing his best. Smart man.

There's something wrong with this picture though:

Aren't all the legs of a ladder supposed to be on the ground?

Maybe that's just one of those urban myths you hear about all the time...

This is Dr. Nails trying to tell me it'll be okay:

This when I believe him:

As long as everyone's feet are on the ground and no one is trying to crawl into a radiator,

things are pretty much under control around here.

Sad when your standards are so low, isn't it?

Tales from The Belly Button Files

The little Belly Button that could.......

One day little belly button, one day.  Keep trying.

These guys here at the beach really know what it's all about:

And I have decided that there is a small chance I may get more enjoyment
 out of all this baby stuff than the baby will.
But just a small chance, really little.

( Thanks Grandma Beth! )

Have tub, will bathe.

That's the idea at any rate, 

although enforcing bathing can often be a losing battle. 

The Hannah Dog can vouch for that.

 But honestly, I don't have any real intention of sharing this bad boy with her:

Oh no, this one's all mine...

  ( He thinks I'm going to share, hah! )
Although I am considering allowing the baby to use it,
every once in a while...