35 weeks, 2 days pregnant and winter is finally showing some leg around here.
My parents arrived this morning to pick Matilda up for the day and girlfriend could not get out of the house fast enough. The second my mother put Matilda's bag down by the door the child was all, "BYEE!" "...BYEE!" "...BYEE ALREADY COME ON!!"
The kid, she loves to leave. Always up for a short good-bye and see you later alligator. All smiles and big waves and one foot out the door before she's even got her shoes on. I can't blame her as our living room currently looks like, well, a hospital room.
And what fun is a parent that can't chase her around the kitchen or get down on the floor and throw Smurfs off her barn or, you know, get off her fat ass at all? It's getting to her, this sentence of bedrest. Much like it's getting to me. I'd have been just as excited as she was to say bye and run out the door this morning.
I won't go that far, but I will admit that I've been planning my bathroom trips around other things I can pick up/put away/grab from the fruit bowl. On my way to the bathroom for a shower this morning, I stopped in the doorway of the new kid's room to check out the progress. While I was waiting for the water to heat up, I cleaned the toilet. Yesterday, Matilda and I were downstairs alone for a bit while Niclas got some stuff done upstairs and took a shower. Matilda wanted a yogurt and instead of calling up for help, I got up and got it for her myself. And then I went to the bathroom. But then I sat right back down. I promise.
