I keep half-composing blog posts in my head. Sometimes I even jot down a few lines on a piece of paper or on the ipad. And then life moves on and the half-finished thoughts get stuck somewhere in limbo.
I want to talk about all the work we've been doing on the house and how it's finally coming together.
I want to ask about the things I need for this baby that I don't know about yet, or haven't realized I should get ready in advance.
I want to show all of the things we've made for the baby and the baby's room. Things that are pretty. Things that are useful. Things that we hope will be treasured and enjoyed--at least by us, even if she doesn't care.
I want to talk about The Fear. And the strange lack thereof.
I want to complain a bit about the heat and the pains and the fact that I thought when everyone warned me that the last month was hell that they were just exaggerating. For the record, they were most definitely not.
But there is work. So very, very much work. And projects at home. And laundry. And puppies and husbands to care for. Gardens to weed and admire. And occasionally, just a few moments to sit down and put up my feet.