Should not have done the math.

I'm watching Desperate Housewives. (for the record, this does not fall into the category of "bad TV". This is actually very GOOD TV. In case you were wondering.)

Susan works at a private school as a teacher's aid so she can afford to send her son to the school. That's great, I'd do the same. Props to her for being frugal. I mean, according to the show, this school costs nearly $22,000 a year. For elementary school. What is it? College? For real? Who does that???

Um. **blush**
Apparently the HG and I do.

After gasping LOUDLY at that number, I thought, "Hmmmm...how much are we ponying up for day care?" Honestly, I figured that since we pay through the nose for day care, the private school parents in question (ok, ok, I know they're fictional...NOT the point) must be just rolling in it. I mean, $22,000 a year? That's a car. College. The down payment for a house in a small town in upstate NY (VERY upstate). Hell, it's more than I have left on my student loans (I think. This is another number I don't look up....) Ok, so my point is it's a lot of money.

Yeah. We are said parents. Our annual day care bill? Nearly $21,000. No, it's not $22,000. But really, we're going to split hairs over $1,000? Let's just say I suddenly feel very poor. And a smidge stupid. How in the hell did I sign my (still unborn) kid up for a $21,000 day care? DAY CARE?? Not even kindergarten. $21,000 for someone to make sure my son, what, gets cleaned up after he spits up? Oy.

Ok, ok. That is simply not fair. I know that day care is more important than that. I know that it's worth any expense to have my son in a place where I feel comfortable. I would pay twice that to know he's getting as close to the quality of care I'd give him myself. Hey, day care, infant care, preschool, nursery (pick your preferred term and insert here) workers, for the most part, do a fantastic job. Every day millions of women leave their children in the care of these hard working women (yeah, yeah, and men. Whatevs. I'm fine with a stereotype here. Bite me.) and I am sure that, like me, many of them are not happy about having to do it. I'm his mother. I want to be the one to see his first steps. Hear his first words. Decide what his schedule should be. But, alas, I have to come to terms with the fact that this is not an option for us at this time. Even though I carried this little guy around for 9(ish) months. Even though the HG and I wanted this little guy more than anything. And even though we already love him more than anything I can even imagine. I will have to drop him off every morning to be cared for by someone else. So, yes, as hard as they work, as tirelessly as they care for my son, they will never, ever do as good a job as I would.

So, ok. $21,000. Yikes.
But I think it might be worth every penny.

This, however, does not make me feel any better about the cost.
He is SO going to public school after Kindergarten. Momma's gonna need a vacation eventually....

Well, it's offical.

I'm a cluttered mess.
Murpy says so.

And my mother emailed me and "suggested" I hire a maid before the little man arrives. I asked if that was her nice way of saying my house is a mess. She said no, just that I clearly have a lot to be before he gets here and I have a lot on my plate and since I'm so tired........
Hmmmmm...
Is it me or does that sound like mom-speak for you're a hot mess?

Ok, so I'm a hot mess. Fine. I will not go down like that. So I ran to The Walmart (for the record, you have to call it "the walmart". It's more fun. The HG and I actually call it the "W'art". There is a long, quite dull story behind this. But we find ourselves amusing. Nobody else ever really does. We're fine with that. I'm quite certain we'd both be single forever had we never met. We're also fine with that. I'm on quite the parenthetical tangent, aren't I? At some point I thought, "hey, I should just delete the parentheses and start a new paragraph." But I find this more amusing for some reason.) Any.way.

I ran to The Walmart (this is like having "the diabeetus") to get some plastic organizing type baskets for my linen closet. And I am now the proud owner of a very well organized linen closet. I organized all of our over the counter drugs by type: painkillers, tummy stuff, etc and put them all in one basket. Put all the first aid stuff in another. All the beauty supplies in a third. While I was at it, I tossed all the extra lotions, body sprays, and perfumes (um, do I smell? People seem to like to give me this stuff....are they trying to tell me something?) I had kicking around. I also tossed any expired medicines and all that jazz. Amazingly, after I did that, I had plenty of room to add 2 more baskets--one for baby wash clothes and towels, the other for baby bath supplies and lotions and such. This is fantastic because I was actually laying in bed last night tyring to figure out where to store all the baby bath supplies. Problem solved! Huh. It's funny what a little organization will do for you.

I also did all the laundry in the house, which included all the wet, cloth outdoor clothes the HG had to wear TWICE today to clear out all the snow. Yeah. Snow. It's March 2nd and we are once again buried in over a foot of snow. Sigh.

Well, this installment of my life will be cut short. I have to lay on my side. Thanks to too many contractions, I'm ordered to rest on my side after work from now on. And I can't type very well on my side. Good times.

So much for nesting.

Next month

Next month I'll be a mommy.
Unless you believe my friend Melissa. In which case I'll be a mother this month.

After everything, we're finally going to be parents. It's just amazing to me. I still worry constantly. I still pray daily for a healthy baby boy. But with each passing day, it becomes more and more obvious that in a few short weeks, we'll be changing diapers and trying to figure out how, exactly to make this little person stop crying. It's so exciting. And terrifying. And wonderful. Did I mention terrifying?

I'm quite honestly scared out of my mind. I'm not the most organized person. I'd LIKE to be. Disorganization frustrates me. And frankly, clutter makes me straight up angry. And yet, our little house is overwhelmed with disorganized clutter. At least to me it is. I'm sure other people don't always see what I see. We had a cleaning company come 2 weeks ago and they commented on how clean it was (um, yeah. If it WAS, I wouldn't have called YOU) and how well organized. Ok, clearly, I need to find a new cleaning company. Well, I DO need to find a new cleaning company (they used mops--don't get me started. Floors are to be cleaned on your hands and knees. I was clear when I hired them. Sigh. And they didn't move the furniture to clean under and behind it. I mean, really?) but that's a different story.

My problem is that I'm a perfectionist who recognizes that she is NO.WHERE NEAR perfect. So, since I can't make my house as perfect as my mommy's house (for the record, this is my goal. Someday, my house will rival my mom's....someday...), I don't bother doing things I know I should frequently enough. Like laundry. I do laundry like once a week. Which, for now, is just fine. The HG alerts me when he needs underoos and I do laundry. It's a great process. But, this laundry hating genius decided to cloth diaper. Why? What was I thinking? Cloth diapers are not for people who don't do laundry. But I feel so strongly about it, that I don't want to go to disposables. Besides, as I told the HG, this little guy is going to poop, pee, and puke (the 3 P's as I call it) on everything so I'll be doing tons of laundry anyway. What's a few more diapers in the mix? Ok, so perhaps the real question isn't why did I decide to cloth diaper, but why did I decide to have a child?

But beyond diapers and laundry, I hate hate hate being late. Obsessively hate being late. It, along with clutter, makes me angry. But I love love love sleeping. I'm not good at it, but I do enjoy sleeping. I mean, I wake up frequently and rarely sleep more than 2 or 3 hours in a stretch. (This is the one thing I have going for me in the baby arena....) As a result, though, I often sleep through my alarm clock in the morning and am perpetually running late for work. So I dash out the door, usually with wet hair and one arm in my coat. Toast hanging out of my mouth. Sometimes I don't even remember to lock the door behind me. And on cold mornings, I don't even bother letting the car warm up. How, please tell me, am I going to add a child the mix? I can't put a baby in a cold car. I can't take a shower and be out the door in 5 minutes after waking up. I'll have to feed him. Pack his diaper bag. Dress him. I don't even know what else.

Don't even get me started on cooking. I adore cooking. It's one of my most favorite things to do. But I rarely do it. It just seems so...pointless. I'm home alone most nights because the HG works late. So I grab take out. I can't grab take out once I'm a mom. For many reasons. Not the least of which is we won't be able to afford it if I ever want to be a stay at home mom (which will hopefully happen sometime next year). I also have decided to make my own baby food. Again, this is one of those things I feel strongly about, but fear I'm too lazy to follow through on.

Seriously. What was I thinking? How the hell am I going to do this?? How am I going to be the mom I want to be? The wife I want to be? The employee I need to be? A friend, sister, daughter? How does it all fit together? While I'm sure I'll figure it out and it's not like I'll be a single mom, I'm still terrified. I know I can't be perfect at any of it. But I so badly want to be.

And, as always, I worry about him. Will he be early? Late? And it he's either, will he be healthy? Is he kicking enough? Is he REALLY Ok in there? And once he's here, will he be healthy? Will he be HAPPY?

I don't really think I'm all that unusual. I mean, it's not like I sit her obsessing (really, I swear, I don't....no REALLY.). And I'm pretty sure this is how I'll feel for the rest of his life. I wonder if he'll like the bubble we're going to put him in.... (oh, alRIGHT...no bubble. I assume that would scar him for life, huh?)

Anyway, while I still have time, I'm going to have to work on figuring out this whole "mom" thing. I'm sure I'll figure it out. I mean, people have been having babies for thousands of years, right? It's not like I'm the first. If it sucked, people would stop, right?

Besides, even though Melissa thinks I'll be a mommy this month, I'm pretty sure this little guy will make his debut in May. He's just all about keep me on my toes. I'll prepare for him for this month, because that's how I roll. But, like his daddy, I'm sure he'll just show up when he feels like it. So you know, I will have an extra week or two to figure it out.