T minus 14 days.

But first a birthday for a boy who's mother has done little to make him feel special in his life. Trying to make up for a life time (albeit a short lifetime) of lack of effort on my part at 38 weeks pregnant is proving to be exhausting. Throwing a party without the support of major retailers is sucking out every last bit of creativity I've got (which isn't much). Where is a Partyland or Zurchers when you need one??

And let's not forget about my crazy idea to have a garage sale... this weekend. 2 days after the birthday party.

I'm starting to feel that familiar "I'm so overwhelmed let's just forget its all happening too soon and take a nap."

After a quick trip to see the Grandparents and Aunt Laurie before she heads to China, I told Tyler that I just refuse to think that pregnancy needs to slow me down. I wish someone would tell my body.

And while you're talking to my spherical self, would you also remind my body that it can start getting ready for the big event? What is the point of dropping my pants in a sterile, fluorescent lit room if "things" are just going to be the same as last time... which was the same as it usual is when my body doesn't resemble a balloon near bursting.

Speaking of doctors, mine's fantastic, but the student, who is very well intentioned, keeps discussing the 'itty bitty'ness of my belly button and I just don't know if I can handle another comment on the lack of depth full term pregnancy gives my button.

I refuse to say I'm tired of being pregnant, because, quite honestly, I'm not. But... I wake up every morning and with the first tummy tumble or roll, I tell this little one to come because I'm so excited to meet her. The first baby, in my experience, is loved from the word 'go'. You love it because it exists and is coming and is the first. And its new and exciting and different. The second, you love, but you, or most mothers I know, wonder how to share love with two. How could you possibly feel the same enormous feelings with another one? Even if you don't admit to these feelings at the time (like me), you realize later you truly did wonder at how this would work and if all the cliches you hear are true. And then #2 comes, and you do love it as much. Without pause, thought, or breath. And then comes number 3. And you love it easily because you know what's coming. The love, the cuddling, the joy, the expanding mother heart. This is where I am, and have been for weeks, even months. I love this baby so much I just want to hold her and snuggle her to pieces. I just want more than anything to meet her.

And maybe, just maybe, I want one child, just one, who doesn't talk back to me. And yes, you can remind me of that when I'm wondering why I signed up for another infant whose communication skills are nil, unless you count wails and scrunched faces and fists as communication.

But I'm happy to keep her tucked away in hibernation for 2+ more weeks. Happy to have her incubate until she decides she's ready to make her appearance.

Maybe that's why I haven't washed a single piece of baby clothing. Mother's intuition (or my personal medical history in this department) is telling me she's not ready yet. Maybe that's why we haven't picked a name or even solidified a list of any kind (did anyone else think that baby #2 of one gender got sloppy seconds on the name business??). Maybe that's why I don't have nursing bras yet, even though this could happen any day now and the nearest nursing bra for sale is a good 45 minutes away.

Or maybe all of that is because I know mothering isn't about the stuff, the gear, the gadgets, the soft, adorable, tiny clothes, or even the name I selfishly bestow on her. Mothering, the art of mothering, is easy. It's all inside me already. Maybe that's why I feel at peace and calm in my waiting. Because I'm ready. In my mother heart. It's equipped with all it needs to welcome another baby. Love. Maybe that sounds conceited. I don't mean to say, by any means, that I am a good mother. But I do know how to love my children and I do... love them immensely. I'm ready.


The hospital, however, won't let us leave without a car seat... so I better get on that one, at least, right???