Still Pregnant

There's not a lot going on here. I have more laundry to do and I still need to take down the Rage Against the Machine poster that was in our office/now nursery. (There's a whole discussion we could have on the implications of taking down one's concert posters for the nursery, and placing them in frames for the next apartment, and what that means about one's adulthood and one's youth.) Truth be told, my days are pretty quiet. I nap to make up for not sleeping through the night. We surf the internet for furniture, tile, and storage solutions. I fold baby clothes and look at the bookshelf and wonder where all those books came from exactly. Didn't we just sell boxes of books? They must be reproducing in the night. The whole apartment is fertile.

Still I know things are about to get crazy. It seems like all my correspondence these days could be summed up by saying: Thanks for the invite/job offer! I'm about to give birth. See you in a few months!

I know education is empowerment, but I wonder how wise it is to tell expectant mothers that their babies are full term weeks before their due date. Well, of course it's wise. It also makes for impatient expectant mothers and fathers and grandparents.

It's March. It's sleeting. I'm still pregnant. I'm off to wash some mattress pads and baby blankets in Dreft.