Here's one baby-related thing I can commit to jotting down: I'm going to finish putting together our nursery furniture this weekend. All that's left is a dresser, so it shouldn't be too bad. I also need to put up some curtains in the nursery, so I'll probably work on that too. It's really starting to look like a nursery, but we're still missing a mattress, and bedding, and decorations, and really just accessories in general. But there's still plenty of time.
Only there isn't. Mindy's pregnancy is halfway over, by all accounts. I don't want to say I don't notice it, but I still get to wear my old pants and go for long runs and drink (terrible) beer and sleep through the night. By and large, my emotions and hormones are pretty much in the same condition they've always been. Sometimes I wish I were the pregnant one so I could say "hey, take a break, I'll be the miserable one for a while." But I don't think I could handle it. Honestly. And if I did, it wouldn't be graceful.
We're still throwing around baby names, and I honestly don't think we'll pick... well, let me rephrase. Obviously, since we aren't finding out the sex of the baby until it's born, we won't pick a name until we've got a newborn on our hands. But I don't even think we'll have it narrowed down to one boy name and one girl name. If we do, it will be a miracle. I'm really good at liking a lot of different names, and Mindy's really good at generating alternatives. Instead of narrowing our options, we keep widening and opening them up.
I don't think I'm imaginative enough to be as nervous as I probably ought to be about what's about to happen in our lives. I'm certainly, absolutely terrible at conveying how excited I am. But I am, and you should be too, because I've got a good feeling about this.
