Yes, yes I know I have been nothing but talk about baby. That’s because I want this child EVICTED. NOW. Surprisingly, I am rather comfortable at the moment. The crotch fire pains have subsided and I can now tell that the baby has dropped because I CAN BREATHE AGAIN! I have energy again too - so it ain’t all that bad.

I just wanna meet this baby already! Plus I have everything nearly completed for its arrival (except for a Moby wrap *sigh*) that it’s getting kinda boring around here. Boring enough to make me wanna shop and that’s just trouble. (speaking of trouble, just as I was writing this, I bought a new Ju-Ju-Be* BeAll diaper bag. Damn online shopping. Maybe it will come right as I’m in labour and Mike won’t fight me. Wishful thinking: he’s gonna be so mad. LOL)

Carter’s got the shopping bug too. I think its genetic. Since he’s been home from daycare (all of three days) he asks to go shopping. I ask what he’d like to do today and his immediate response is “SHOPPING!” - the kid will travel from store to store, sit in cart after cart and back and forth from the car if it means he gets to go SHOPPING! Gawd, I love that child.

Tuesday consisted of us going to WalMart for the last minute items for my hospital bag (nipple cream, pads, new pajamas: the necessities) and Carter insisted that he NEEDED a new car for his unending collection of vehicles from the movie CARS.

The kid has 12 of the numerous different styles and models of each character yet NEEDS a new one. The NEED is so strong its the END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT if there is not a new car to add to the collection. So strong that I WILL. NOT. hear the end of it if we leave the store without one.

[Who the HELL spoiled this child so bad? *looking around*]

Yet still I manage to leave (sometimes) then disarm him by bringing out Thomas the Train from my purse.

[Gotta love the fact that children have the attention span of a fly.]

What am I going to do for an entire year with this shopping accomplice at home? How am I going to be able to fend off the want to shop when I have a little voice in my ear suggesting INSISTING to go SHOPPING!!!!11!? (because it’s never requested quietly, it’s always in a screeching tone that I swear only dogs can hear at the highest decibels.)

When I was living at home I was a bit of a neat freak. I had my motivation though: if I didn’t clean it my mom would - which would give her the opportunity to snoop at the same time, and I KNOW she did. She would check every single nook and cranny for things that I shouldn’t have (like beer in my closet) or weed oregano under my bed. She found it, though she never took it, surprisingly.

I remember one time, about 13 years old - the time that all girls hate their parents, I had a journal where I wrote evil and hateful things. Things I couldn’t very well say to my mom’s face, because well - she’s my MOM. Anyway, one weekend when we were at my dad’s house she cleaned my room. I know because the journal that was buried at the back of my closet was suddenly sitting on my pillow awaiting my arrival.

I don’t know if I was more pissed off at the fact that I felt like she invaded my privacy or the shame I felt for writing such hurtful things about her. That’s when I learned that there’s no where safe to hide anything.

That story really has no merit to what I was actually going to talk about.

Blame it on the pregnancy brain - yeah still pregnant. 7 days to go!

Speaking of pregnancy brain (here I go again!) I had my Mother’s Day card in my car to deliver to my step-mom for about 2 weeks. When did she finally get it? THIS MORNING. I mailed my mom’s card this morning as well. But, it’s the thought that counts? Right. Please tell me it is!

So the actual topic for today, now that I’ve COMPLETELY lost you. (Hello? You still here!?)

I think my most favourite-est part of nearing the end of pregnancy is nesting.

How fabulous is it to completely nuts on cleaning your house? Seriously. Since I left home and haven’t had the motivation of my snooping caring mother I haven’t been as neat and tidy as I once was. Not to mention the fact that I live with a man(child) who is just about one of the dirtiest things I’ve ever seen. For instance, this morning (since he’s off work for the day) he got out of the shower and put on some shorts so that he could go to the basement to search the laundry for the pair that he really wanted to wear.Well, the shorts that were CLEAN and used only for the jaunt to the basement currently reside in a lump on the bedroom floor adjacent to the hamper. Does that mean their dirty already?

Back to nesting.

[My God this is going to take forever at this rate. CON-CEN-TRATE Sam Concentrate.]

Nesting.

This morning it hits me like a huge tsunami wave. Baby. Here. Less. Than. A. Week. SO MUCH TO DO.

[Let's PRAY it's less then a week, M'kay?]

After getting a pedicure and getting my nails done I came home and began cleaning like a mad woman.

I may or may not have even cleaned up my husband’s tools in the basement.

Fo R’il. (aka For. Real.)

Monday was our bedroom - baseboards, door frames, mirrors, ceiling fan, window sills, dust - OH. THE. DUST! I’ve been vacuuming just about daily and even cleaned the kitchen floor.

I wish I had this kinda ambition all the time. Dude, I could have the cleanest house around - even while living with the dirtiest man E-VAH!

Now I just wish there was a way to easily evict a tenant that just won’t leave.

[Yes, I'm talking about the bebe in mah belly.]

I’ve been in the foulest mood known to man since Friday. I’m not sure what’s brought on this vile attitude, but I’ve been a complete bear to everyone I know. I fear that Carter has taken the brunt of my horrible mood. He was so chatty all weekend and refused to listen to any request either Mike or I made. I lost my patience too often and feel really guilty about it. I think there were more time outs dolled out this weekend then he’s every had before.

This week’s the beginning of Carter being in daycare part time. Today’s been a lot better then the proceeding weekend, yet I find myself very short on patience still. I’m just so over this pregnancy right now. I am tired and constantly nauseous with only 9 days remaining until my official due date (9 days feels like 9 years at this point).

My doctor gave me a little stretch this morning at my appointment and I’ve been crampy and uncomfortable ever since. Here’s to hoping that labour comes on sooner then later: especially for my family’s sake. I don’t know that they will be able to find it in their hearts to love me any longer with the mood that I’ve been in as of late. Heck, I’m sick of myself too! If I’m not in a better mood soon, I think this kid’s just gonna hang out in mah belly so it won’t feel the wrath of my evil attitude.

Posts will be a little sporadic for here on in. I mean, there’s only so much baby bitching a person can do (and probably even less that a person can read - THANK YOU!!) Plus I have Carter home now and quite a few designs I want to get finished and out of the way this week in anticipation for an EARLY baby day!!

Dammit. I so want an early baby day.