All things come to an end.

One thing for sure is this pregnancy will. And I am in my nesting phase. Not that I have any energy to nest around here with a one year old terrorist hot on my heels, but my mind is nesting. We have MUCH to do before the baby arrives in May. MUCH!!

There are three bedrooms in this house and they are all currently in use. I have no choice but to impose upon the people responsible for this new family member and I'm pretty sure that the bar down the road isn't going to take any responsibility and put her up there, so we're forced to put her into the other guilty party's room. Our love shack is going to be converted into a nursery that mom and dad get to sleep in. And to be honest I'm not so sure with two under two there will be a lot of love shacking going on for a while anybleepingway, so what does it even matter?

In order for this to happen we have to do some remodeling/painting/revamping and my favorite ....SHOPPING! We have three windows to replace, a bathroom to remodel, paint, trim, new doors and some furniture to purchase. All this will have to happen in early spring since neither February or early March brings out the balmy weather. So basically the last 6 weekends of my pregnancy.

For those of you who have done this growing a human thing, you know the last six weeks of your pregnancy are spent mostly sleeping, waddling, barking orders and bitching. Not a whole lot of time in there for those pesky remodeling chores. And that leaves it all to my husband, well mostly, I'll cover the bossing around and bitching part. I don't want him talking shit about how he's doing it ALL himself.

The sucky part of having all this work is that my husband normally ends up dissecting god damn mouse embryos, washing his "cells" or concocting some strange DNA mixture every Saturday and Sunday morning. I understand this allows one of his many "oh damn, I need one of these tools" at Home Depot, but still. It shrinks our already thin time slot by a few hours every weekend AND I don't have the energy to follow him in there to do all the bitching needed to get him out of work and Hope Depot in a timely manner which only increases the possible time lost geeking it up at work or praying to the chain saws at the tool store. I'm not sure about any of you, but a windowless bedroom on a chilly April evening is not my idea of fun and certainly will not promote the 15 or so half hour naps I'll be able to take in between pee breaks at night.

So like every pregnant lady I feel hurried during those last few months because there always seems to be mountainous piles of crap to do and you're too busy putting your swollen feet up to do much about it other than think. Then again, having so many things on your to-do list does make the time pass a little faster. Which poses other problems. I'm not sure if I want time passing any faster except only to get my body back. But the work involved in getting that back (and I'm not talking about exercise either) will be daunting. Clingy one year olds and a nursing infant along side a pre-tween feeling a little left out and needing reassurance is going to kick my ass. Plain and simple.

Tell me again how I got myself into this? Oh, right. Dive bar down the road, cheesy seductive lighting in our living room (or maybe it was just the street light outside?) and..uh...ahem, you know.