32 Weeks!

. . . And the countdown continues.

Last week I mentioned that Scott was attending Daddy Boot Camp.  He gives it two thumbs up.  Turns out, they had real, live babies there!  Three of 'em!  And my husband not only held one, but bottle fed one.  Awww.  I really wish that I could have been a fly on the wall during this class.  But truly, it's such a great idea.  A bunch of dudes sitting around and giving one another real-life information on babies, how to support their wives, and fatherhood.  Scott came home fully engaged and full of information.  It was great - for both of us!

In the meantime, the childcare search continues.  We've received 30 applications and have been weeding through them.  We had a fantastic interview with a potential Nanny today who the hubs and I were both very impressed with.  And I've found a few potential daycare centers that hopefully won't send us fleeing in fright like the last one.  So, slowly but surely, progress is being made.

Speaking of progress...the baby is now weighing in close to four pounds, and it feels like she's maneuvered herself into the right head down position.  I can now identify the locations of certain body parts - like feet.  I'm really good at figuring out where her feet are.  Which is usually kicking me in the diaphragm.  I occasionally see them poking out above my belly button.  Oh, and that belly button.  Yep.  Officially an outtie now.  It popped this week like the thermometer on a Thanksgiving turkey. 

Over the next few weeks we have a lot of baby stuff going on.  To be expected, I suppose.  We have childbirth classes and a baby shower (!!!), and doctor appointments galore!  There's definitely an overall sense of trying to get things in order both at home and at work.  I have a little bit of tunnel vision - glued to the "to-do" list and annoyed by silly distractions.  I'll admit, it's a bit of a defense mechanism.  If I let myself think this whole parenthood, having a child thing too much, the anxiety sets in.  Other times the reality sneaks up and smacks me in the face.  Like today, I was getting my hair cut and I looked on the stylists mirror at the schedule for making your next appointment.  Four weeks = 10/16.  Six weeks = 10/30.  Eight weeks = 11/13.  "Huh.  November 13," says my wee little brain.  "I think I have something that day."  "Oh, right!  I'm having a frickin' baby!"  .

8 weeks and counting. . .