Deuces

I have been in nesting mode for several weeks. What this means is- I look into every room of my house and find everything that is wrong with it. I have been anxious to get all the dust bunnies from the corners of the rooms and under the beds... I am addicted to Lysol disenfectant wipes and have a conatiner in each and every room, lest a germ should cross my path at any given moment. I have found myself in fits of wonder late at night and asking my husband if we need to somehow deep clean our air vents (because a new air filter just doesn't seem sufficient enough). I have trimmed the tree and can hear the other trees calling to me that they, too, need a new 'do. I have spent hundreds at COSTCO because I have a nagging fear I will somehow run out of paper towels, toilet paper, boxes of Kleenex and toothbrushes among a myriad of other products (my garage is now called 'Camco'). I silently get mad at my husband for every coffee ring he leaves on the table, every unhu

On a day like today I feel like I am "over" being pregnant. Today is a day when I am sick (again) and clutching a box of Kleenex.  I moaned as I tossed and turned in bed last night, unable to sleep with a stuffy head and sore throat.   I ate just under 4,000 oranges yesterday in an effort to be rid of this nasty head cold and flu. I drank tea with honey and lemon... I put heating pads on my sore back... and all while thinking of my baby. Somehow you stay tucked away inside, perhaps even unphased by how ill I am. And normally I would panic that my illnesses are making you equally sick, but thanks to the web it seems I am not the only mom-in-training to be sick... a LOT. On days like today I wonder whether you will arrive early or past your due date. I am somehow convinced that you will come early, mainly because I just can't imagine my belly getting much more ginormous than it already is. Bending down has become a chore. I have officially started to w

It is really the smallest, seemingly insignificant moments of my life when I think of you most, daddy. Last night I went into Home Depot to look at outdoor lighting sconces, and as I stared up at the lights beaming from the expansive wall I suddenly felt overcome with sadness. I don't care to go into Home Depot much, maybe because it reminds me of you.  I like to think it's because it isn't 'colorful'- that's what I tell Lloyd.  It is true, though- it isn't all pretty like Target.  But there's definitely something about that smell of lumber and all the gadgets and gizmos that line the walls that make me lose my breath for just a moment. You used to say "I'm going to my other home..." as you walked out the door. What you meant was that you were going to Home Depot.  In fact, I think a HD card was the only credit card you had. You would be there for days, it seemed.  On occasion, I would go with you.  I was sooooooooooo bored staring at