Two More Days.
Think invasion into Normandy, people. This is D-Day, minus two. And I can't wait for D-Day, even though I don't know what's going to happen exactly (although I'm pretty sure the child will come out), and my parachute might get stuck in a tree. I don't care! I'm just thrilled it is almost over with. D-Day. Think D-Day, D-Day, D-Day.
If I could make this more clear: I. Can't. Wait. Just come, baby! You are welcome here!!!
F.Y.I.: I am now retaining enough water in my face that I am no longer fit to be seen in public. The Double B, my number one supporter, has reminded me that while I do look -- shall we say, water retained -- I only have a few days left. I don't know how he loves me. But I love him back.
I just wanted to document a few conversations I have had with my children over the last few days that I think are truly, truly memorable.
Yesterday I woke up and came out to find K.J. already ready for the day -- this happens every day of his life, he is a very early riser and a cheerful morning person, which is awesome for him. He jumped up when he saw me, full of excitement. The conversation went like this:
K.J. - Mom, only three more days!
Mom - I know!
K.J. - Just three more days, then two, then the day before, then my baby sister is going to come! I am so excited!!!
Mom - I'm so excited, too!
K.J. - Well, except I'm more excited then you are.
Mom - Really? Okay.
And... scene. Really? Could he possibly be more excited? I think not. Being the kind and considerate person I am; however, I let it slide. He still thinks he is the excitement King.
Yesterday afternoon we went as a family into St. George for one last family date before our family changes. It was fun, but before we left the Double B dawdled for a minute while the rest of us were waiting in the car. When he finally came out, Olivia had a few things to say:
Liv - Dad, you were so slow! Dad's are so slow, and Mom's are so fat.
(pause while Mom tries to convince herself Livi meant fast, not fat.)
Dad - Did she just say Mom's are so fat?
Liv - Yep!
It was funny, so we laughed. Later; however, the insult was getting a little heavy. We'd stopped at Uncle Nick's for a minute, and as we were getting ready to leave, I pulled open the sliding door for Olivia to walk through. She turned around and said "Mom, do you think you can fit through that?"
It's hilarious! I must look awesome to my three year old. But let me tell you something, she is going to miss the awesome pillow her sister has become for her. Every chance she gets for a nap, she curls up right around my belly. I have had many a drool puddle on the top of said stomach. So she should be glad there is a risk I can apparently no longer fit through sliding doors.
Pregnancy is an awesome experience in many ways. I have cherished it on some spiritual level. But I'm not gonna be sorry to be done with said experience, either.
Just waiting anxiously to hold my new daughter!
See you on the flip side.