Monday, July 28

I'm not sure why it takes an impending birth to initiate a dig into the deepest recesses of all of your closets and drawers and overhaul your life and possessions and whatever it was that was being stored under your bed, but this last week was that week for me. Maybe it's the realization that these things can either be done while I'm pregnant with a toddler, or with a toddler and a newborn, and the former sounds slightly more, realistic? Realistic with a hearty side of braxton hicks. I woke up one morning after a particularly birth-y dream and sprinted to our computer desk to grab a pen and paper and brain dump my to-do list of everything I wanted to get done before baby arrives. From sorting through the bathroom closet and drawers down to the cleaning out of the sugar and flour jars, everything. I worked on what I could on my own this last week, with Everett as my most helpful helper, and saved the heavy lifting for this weekend. The three of us sorted through our storage unit, pulled out our old baby stuff, sorted through our closets, and under our bed, detailed the car, picked up a few more baby things, installed the car seat, and dropped a bounty of quarters into a real effective set of dryers. And it was ... nice? No it was really nice. A relief. And that scorching, exhausting Saturday settled into a cool, breezy evening, with Everett jumping off the seats of our car and poking his head through the sun roof while Tyson and I vacuumed the floors and wiped down the seats. And with a great amount of satisfaction, buckled that new little car seat right next to Everett's, taking a glance over our shoulders and grinning at each other. Wow. TWO.

That evening, after tucking Everett in bed and a nice long shower for both of us, we settled back into our pillows, absolutely giddy about the night of sleep before us. At 2:30 that morning, we both woke at the exact same time from some horrible dreams. Ones that you can't just talk about, shake off and go back to sleep. But ones that make you throw your covers off and head to the kitchen to flip on the starkly bright lights, and emotionally reconnect with the relief and reality that is a tea kettle whistling in the middle of the night. There is something terrible that comes with parenthood. Tied up within the absolutely heart-bursting goodness that is, for instance, observing your little boy digging through his dad's wrench set while singing a high pitched rendition of, You are So Beautiful, is the buried awareness of exactly what there is to lose. A place in your brain that always exists but is never called upon, except on the occasion of the sub-conscious. A place that is growing in sync with my belly, ever larger by the day for both of us. Tyson sat down while we waited and rested his head against my stomach, instantly getting kicked in the face by a tiny invisible foot. We spent the next hour or so reading together before being able to fall back asleep. Me hugging my body pillow and him hugging me. And Sunday. Sunday we took a nap.


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