We're getting close to the arrival of Baby Boy! We still don't have a name and depending on whom you talk to and which side of the family they're on he is referred to differently. My father has taken to calling him Tunch Rex, aka T. Rex or Tunchie. Don't ask, that's just his humor. Gigi and Papa refer to him as Luke in the hopes of making a biblical trifecta. The rest of us just call him Baby Boy.
I had another check up this week and everything is looking good. He's moving a lot and sometimes it takes my breath away! I can't remember that happening as often with Riley, but it's comforting to know that he's doing well in there. As of now he's still breech which isn't as big of a problem for me since he's coming out via C, but they still would prefer for him to turn. We'll be watching that over the next couple weeks.
I've been feeling semi laid back about his impending arrival, until last weekend when all of a sudden my nesting mode kicked in. At this point with Riley I had all her stuff set up and my nesting mode was just me trying to keep my house as clean as possible, sometimes moving myself to the point of tears when I couldn't get a finger smudge off the granite countertops. With Baby Boy I haven't had anything ready and all of a sudden that struck me as not okay. I immediately organized his clothes and made room in the closet. I set up the pack n play and got the cradle ready. And I started my list making, a delightful family trait that I inherited from my Dad.
Let's just say if he decides to come tomorrow (I hope not because I'm still getting all my sleep in) we're ready for him.
Return of the pack and play.
Enjoying one month of Riley being potty trained before it's back to diapers square 1.
Burpies, onesies, and baby toys.
The bed that he'll hopefully sleep like a rock in.
Me, Baby Boy and the Big Sister to Be.