Weekending

Weekends have taken on a whole new meaning for me in the last few weeks.  While they used to be a time to get things done! be productive! prepare and plan for the week!  they are now truly a time of rest.   A lot of much needed rest.

Funny then that I'm here again, up way before the sun. Thankful for the first time in my life for this shortened day, meaning I can shave one hour off of my (ahem, this baby's) far too early start to the day.

But really the weekends aren't about sleep so much as about a slow pace, a resting pace.  These are the two days a week that I really get to dial it back, listen entirely to this stressed out body of mine and focus on this baby.

This weekend I've been enjoying preparing a little bit more.  The tiny packages of baby goodies* and spring funs for the girls are arriving in steady streams.  Knitting has finally taken a backseat to some exciting sewing projects.  The rain outside is wiping away the last of the snow, assuring us all that spring is indeed right around the corner, and with it? a whole new rhythm for our family.
*you know you're really a parent when you spend the last of your amazon birthday money on nipple butter and mama's milk tea

With the weekends also comes time to stop and think a bit.  I've felt mostly so calm about the arrival of this little one, at least in comparison to my last pregnancies, that the realization that an actual real live newborn is going to be here in a matter of weeks has yet to really dawn on me.

Though I guess you can't ever really fully prepare for all that adding a new family member will bring, the ways it will change your life.  I've found it hilarious that acquaintances and complete strangers seem more concerned that I do.  Where's the minivan?  You don't have much time left!  How are you all going to fit in that car?  You're going to have your hands full!  Oh boy! Good Luck!  While I understand that most comments are well meaning and mostly just idle talk, PLEASE never wish an 8 months pregnant woman good luck in a mocking tone, or gasp audibly when a family decides not to jump on the minivan wagon.  It's not all too helpful.

I guess this is all to say that I am feeling a bit apprehensive.  Mostly still just SO excited.  I get these waves of absolute childlike eagerness and delight to meet our baby.  It's such a new experience not knowing if they're a boy or a girl, not placing a name quite yet, just talking to baby and preparing for baby and feeling my heart expand and swell already with all kinds of new love.  But apprehensive?  oh yes.

Because even though it's our third, there's a lot that's still new.  Homebirth, no bedrest, relief and guilt about no bedrest, two big sisters to care for, prepare, worry a bit about, a husband who will get very little time off when the baby comes, keeping my big girls occupied and engaged and feeling loved while caring fully for a baby, finding any time for myself, just to take care of my own ravaged a bit body.  How will it all work?

But that's all part of the adventure I think, the beauty of growing a family.  There is no way to know, no way to REALLY prepare.

So for now? I take these moments, these beautiful weekends, and I relax a bit, prop my feet up, and just let it all flow by.