The countdown has recently shifted from "how far along" to "how much longer." It's a nice change, except when BK took me by surprise by describing to a friend that we're "8 months pregnant." I had forgotten that we were 8 months pregnant. I only knew there were a few more weeks to go.
The house keeps coming along. BK had a small freak-out about the state of the baby's room (it's put together, just not organized) but he satisfied himself by snapping together the stroller. I think he needed a break from the large-scale kitchen project, and the 4-minute stroller assembly worked perfectly. Completion, on any scale, can be rejuvenating.
The kitchen is looking fabulous. Aside from countertop and the installation of the gas cooktop, one side is done. BK and my dad put in almost all the cabinets on that side last weekend. BK's brothers are visiting this weekend and I'm guessing the other side of the kitchen will gradually materialize over the next couple days, including the installation of the new sink.
My goal is to organize the nursey, which mostly needs the three million onesies sorted by size and put away in drawers (or totes, for the 12-month sizes). I also plan to spend as much time on the sofa as possible without annoying the kitchen worker bees. My right foot and ankle are swollen due to the hot and sticky weather and the Braxton Hicks contractions just keep on comin'. On the upside, I don't have any back pain, and the baby continues to amuse me with her in-utero antics. Life is good.
