Today is my official first day of maternity leave, and I do not hate it even a little bit. With Darcy, I was put on modified bed rest at 33 weeks because I had issues with pre-term labor. She’s always been very patient, you see 🙄. This pregnancy, despite the drama, constant contractions, and general inability to breathe, I was able to work right up until Clark gets here! My last day was Friday, and the precious teachers and staff at my little school threw me the sweetest baby shower. It was perfect and brought some of the cutest dump-truck onesies into my life. I have been so blessed by this job y’all. School nursing is the very best ever, and I love it with all of my heart.
I am absolutely not kidding when I say that this whole nesting thing has been insanity for me. I don’t remember getting it with Darcy that much, but that may have been because my activity was so restricted. This go-round I have been in full-blown psycho-pregnant-lady mode. God bless Ben, because he cannot seem to understand the urgency of the past month and a half-ish. I NEED the kitchen cabinets cleaned out now. The utility closet organized NOW. I need that crap to be put in the attic as. we. speak. He fusses at me saying, “I’ll help you in a minute.” In a minute? WE DON’T HAVE MINUTES! I NEEDED IT DONE FIVE YEARS AGO! I CAN ONLY COMPROMISE IF IT IS DONE AS I AM FREAKING OUT THIS VERY INSTANT! I am not even exaggerating. Every weekend I have been completing projects all day long. As a result, the house is organized-ish, hospital bags have been packed and repacked, the house is decorated, Christmas presents are bought and wrapped, postpartum stuff is ready, baby Clark stuff is ready, freezer meals are prepared, groceries have been bought, the house is stocked on householdy things for the foreseeable future, laundry is done, and everyone is sleeping on clean sheets. And I’ve only been off work since Friday. So, there. I am #goals because of that nesting hormone. I am so sad to see it go because I’ve honestly never been so productive in my entire life.
This weekend was our last weekend as a family of 3 (4 if you include Libby), and we soaked it up! Darcy is at such a fun and exhausting age. She wakes up singing in her room, and she is SO excited to see mama and dada and read books and watch baby bums and pet Libby and turn on the Christmas tree and eat waffles and everything else all within 10 seconds of us coming to get her from her room. She has added about 50 words to her vocabulary over the last month. I swear she remembers everything and I have to be careful dropping those *special* four-letter words that are so appropriate for 80% of my misfortunes. Darcy loves to pull up my shirt and poke my belly button because she thinks it’s hilarious. She calls it a “buh-buh,” and laughs like it’s the most hysterical thing on the planet. She now pets my belly and says “baybay,” but she also pets my boobs and says “baybay,” so I’m not ready to call her a genius quite yet. She gives the best hugs and kisses, but she will also look you in the eye after a kiss, slap the hell out of you and laugh. Kids are inherently evil, people. Not going to lie, I’m a little worried about poor baby Clark. Darcy loves to point out body parts, and Ben and I both consider ourselves lucky that we still have our vision from Darcy enthusiastically
gouging ahem, pointing out our eyes. We may need baby safety goggles for little brother.
Certain injuries aside, I am so excited to watch them grow up together. Anyone who knows me, knows about my big brother. I love him to death and he’s one of my favorite people on the planet. Doesn’t mean that he didn’t send me to pediatric plastic surgeon at age 5 after a particular plastic sword incident 😒, or that I didn’t hate him and plan his death at least 15 hours out of the day while we were growing up. But, thankfully, he is still here (alive), and he is my biggest fan and probably the only person who is my equal in hilariousness. Fact: I nearly wet my pants from laughing anytime we are together. Cabub, I love you so big. I hope that Darcy and Clark share the same bond minus the plastic surgery incident.
Oh Clark-man, we get to meet you this week. I am as nervous as a long-tailed cat in room full of rocking chairs. I’m scared of meeting you at the same time that I’m really excited to meet you. You are so loved already and your mama has been nuts over getting things ready for you. You are getting here a little earlier than anticipated, but that’s wonderful too. You’ll be here in time for all the Chrismukkah festivities, and we are happy we get to hold you sooner. I pray that you’ll be healthy and avoid the NICU. I pray that you will be strong for whatever days lay ahead. I pray that you’ll be forgiving of the eye-poking big sister you are blessed with. And mostly, I pray for grace as Ben and I enter this new phase of having child(ren) in our lives. We will update once baby Clark gets here. Love to all.