Laundry List

Well, I don't really have much to say today, but I doubt I will have the chance to blog after my in-laws arrive, so I thought I should put up a note saying Happy Holidays, internet. Honestly, I also don't want my grinchy last post to be the first thing people see when they stop by during the next week or so.

Thank you, by the way, for the supportive comments on that. Obviously, I'm getting antsy. I say "getting" antsy, like I haven't been a nervous wreck this whole pregnancy, but the anxiety comes and goes. We're back to a "comes" stage now (that sounds dirtier than I intended). I expect it will probably last until that whole "labor" stage gets going--then I'll be a bundle of good cheer.

Of course, my three unfinished projects are all less dire than I imagined. I'm still a little cranky, but things are under control.

• The semester has come to its inexorable finish, as it always does, and my office is now packed, because my wonderful husband (who kicks puppies, by the way) came to campus with me Sunday and we packed it. Loading books into boxes isn't an activity I would recommend to other women in their third trimesters, but I was surprised how satisfying it was to clear out my space. New year, new baby, new office. Besides, now that everything is packed, I literally cannot go in and do any work for the next two weeks. So there's a satisfying degree of forced closure there.
  
• The house is mostly clean and Christmas will happen in two days whether I'm ready or not. And it will be heartwarming and all that shit, even if I never lift another finger to make a cookie. Duh. I don't know why I was worried about this.
• All right, here's the big news: as I type this, there are baby clothes in the dryer. I was sorting them last night into sizes, and noticed that a lot of little outfits didn't have tags anyway. I could at least wash that stuff, right? Also, my 18-month-old nephew will be visiting, so I needed to wash the sheet for the pack and play, and I guess the changing pad cover, right? It was time to face down my demons and do some laundry. Necessity is the mother of overcoming stupid superstitions, apparently. The hospital bag isn't packed yet, but at least I will be able to put a couple of baby outfits and a blanket in there in about twenty six more minutes. This will be a big step forward, since right now the bag contains exactly two nursing tanks, a pack of sour candy, and Mr. Newt's bathing suit. (I think he packed this as a joke, because Auntie Moonbat kept telling us we're welcome to use the tubs in the birthing rooms, but maybe he really envisions a water birth? I should ask him. I don't think the epidural is going to stretch all the way to the tub.)
  

So there's your completely banal update on my life, internet. My world is sort of narrowing down these last few weeks of pregnancy--I can't see beyond the edge of my own laundry pile, but I'm hanging in. I'd call it navel-gazing, but I can't actually stand to look at my belly button these days. It's all pushed out and lumpy and...odd.

So instead of gazing at my hideous navel, I'm staring blankly into the middle distance, waiting for the big event. Like a very swollen zombie, I guess. Very Christmasy.

I hate to close on such a weird note, but I have to go. Santa, if you are out there on the internet, could you please bring me a nice healthy baby for Christmas? Also, Santa, could you make him a good sleeper? And a good eater (but not a barracuda on the boob, if you know what I mean)? And not ugly? OK, I won't get greedy. Healthy is fine. I'll take healthy.

And internet, not to get all sappy and shit, but I hope Santa brings you whatever you want most, too. I know it's a terrible time of year for some of you out there, with bad memories, fresh tragedies, or families in crisis. Please know that you are in my thoughts, and in my heart. I hope the new year brings new happiness for all of us.

Lots of love (and BRAINS),
Zombie Newt