38.935785 weeks

The latest on the home front. According to the random lady at the thrift store, I'm hiding a basketball under there. Thanks lady, and stop poking it. It kinda freaks me out every time I see it in a mirror. As of last Thursday I'm not dilated at all. I'm not counting on the 31st, but time will tell. I try to mentally prepare by inserting a infant into every action I do, and it just doesn't hit. And apparently it won't...until it's too late. Till then I try to savor my sleep.

An erie calm before the storm has hit. Life has gone pretty haywire these last few weeks, and throwing a pending labor and child into the mix has made it not so stress-free. This last week I've been without a car, which is frustrating because of a pending to-do list, but has also forced me to relax and watch too much TV, too. In the end I'm trusting God's got it all in control, and that my stress does little.

The baby's room is pretty set...

I love the crib! Mom and Dad Mackey totally blessed us with it. Matt thinks it's depressing, and I say who cares...I'll console our blind infant out of his depression.

One of my favorite things is this blue frog. Thomas, (aka Thomas the Toilet) one of my kindergartners in Korea, colored it. All the rest of the class had green frogs, he was intent on his blue...if you get my drift. (I actually stole it from him, but that's another lesson) I intend on making it some poignant metaphor for my kid someday, but chances are he won't care.


And last is the return of the tiger. This ginormous stuffed animal comes with a story: When I first met Matt apparently he could never remember my name. He'd always call me Tiger, which I thought was just an affectionate nickname. In reality, he could never remember my name. True love. Flash forward a year when we had started dating and I receive this huge Valentine's package. Lo and behold, our striped friend was stuffed inside. My tiny dorm room had to house this giant for a long year. It later ended up a conversation piece in our house on Rivermont...the type of conversation depended on whether Matt and I were speaking. Eventually we moved out, I left the country, and assumed my Tiger went to dumpster heaven. Yet another suspiciously huge package came my way this spring, from my sweet friend Erin Bell...and hence, the Tiger returned. And now our child will love it. Such a strange and beautiful world we live in.