I think the scariest thing about Baby Meatball’s (BMB) impending crash landing on our planet is not knowing when it is going to happen. He reaches full-term on my birthday and after that, we’ll have to be as ready as we can be. I’ve been wondering where am I going to be when it’s showtime – at work, at home, at her parent’s house, in the middle of an ill-advised road trip. I’d say BMB can take his time getting here but I’m not exactly the one pregnant here.
We had a few hospital scares that Cindy wrote about at her blog. They seriously need to change the “paper out” alert sound on the baby monitoring machine.
The nursery is slowly coming together. We painted the room together one Saturday. I made a bush league mistake of painting the trim first then the walls which lead to a few mistakes. We’ll just cover it up with some furniture. It will years before BMB can properly critique us.
I did one crafty thing for the nursery. I’ve been dying to use some of Skottie Young’s Marvel baby designs for BMB. The light switch cover in the nursery was dirty and needed to be replaced. This seemed like a good solution.
- I never understood why parents spent money on nice shoes/sneakers on their babies/toddlers when they grow out of them so quickly. That was until I found these sneakers on the Internet. Now I get it.
We decided to not do one of those 3D/4D ultrasounds. Aside from the cost, we wanted to have at least one surprise left. That said, I’m obsessed with wondering what BMB will look like. I have an ultrasound photo we got during one of those aforementioned hospital scares as the wallpaper on my iPhone. You get a good view of his lips and nose. I find myself just staring at it sometimes.
- We went to a Baby Care Basics class this week. On one hand, I’m confident I could change a diaper but I am now terrified of the umbilical cord stump.
- I also occasionally wonder, “What is the technician was wrong and it’s a girl?” Luckily, we brainstormed boys and girls names before we found out the sex so we wouldn’t be completely screwed in that department. My mother might have a heart attack though.
- Speaking of names, we have decided on one. We decided a long time ago. It was just a matter of getting comfortable with it. No. I’m not posting it here.
- After someone asks you “Have you come up with a name yet?”, there’s this awkward silence between the space of you replying “yes” and the other person realizing you’re not going to tell them. They should definitely come up with a name for that.
- My mother wants us to stop calling him “Baby Meatball.” She thinks it’s weird and is afraid that it is going to stick after he’s born. If he’s chubby, I’m afraid she might be right.