You know that time when you're all 5 weeks pregnant thinking about how there are 35 weeks to go and that's forever and a day away?
And then all of a sudden, you're 30 weeks pregnant and thinking that holy crap you have 10 (or fewer) weeks left until you're going to have another tiny creature demanding all your time, energy, and attention.
That's this week. 30 weeks is like the tipping point of pregnancy. That time when you're entering the realm of single digit countdowns and (if you're me) the daunting realization that this kid has about 4 outfits, no diapers, and a crib in 6 pieces as the only furniture in his room. I'm torn about this. Part of me thinks, meh, grab a pack of newborn diapers at the grocery store in about 8 weeks and I'm sure he'll get at least a couple of outfits for Christmas from family, and honestly, he's going to sleep in the co-sleeper in bed with me for the first weeks/months. What's the hurry? Then there's the anxiety and guilt ridden part of me that wants things in place for this little boys. That's the part that knows he deserves to hear when he's 5 about how we took the same pains and time to prepare for his birth as we did for his sister and that just because he's the second born doesn't mean he's not just as loved, wanted, and cared for. See my issue?
I'm on vacation the next two weeks (the second-best perk of teaching). So I'm thinking I'll use week 2 of vacation to do some work for this kid...even if that just means a little shopping to put my mind at ease. Maybe I'll even be able to convince Drew to set up the crib... just so I can feel like he has something in his room ready for him.