Guess who spent the better part of yesterday cutting tags off of baby clothes?
Side note: Dear Gerber, Please stop taping your clothes to everything. That’s so 90s. Or so not functional.
If you’ve never had a baby before, friendly little PSA:
There are more little plastic tag connectors and stickers and tags to clip off of a single onesie than there are a pair of panties and they’re the same size.
When you think you’ve finally gotten them all, you find another one, hidden under a sleeve or behind a snap. It’s like trying to break into Fort Knox.
And more maddening.
So, after hours of cutting tags and separating clothes into piles of “warm” and “cold” and “like colors” everything finally made it to the laundry room to be cleaned.
And this was the end result:
ONE DRAWER OF CLOTHES.
I feel like after four loads of laundry, I should have more than one drawer to show for my work.
Conclusion: baby laundry: small…yet deceptive.
Other than the endless loads of laundry, I spent the remainder of my day baking dessert for today. Tim is having some kind of offsite strategic planning meeting thing with his direct reports and invited me to join them for lunch.
I have no idea why…I guess so we could all see the pregnant lady at the zoo…
Anyhow, I said I would make something to bring because that’s what the wife of the boss does, right?
We bring yummy things.
(They’re building yet another house across the street from us and OMG I’M GOING TO KILL SOMEONE. How is anyone supposed to concentrate with the constant banging?!?!?!?!?!?!)
So I tried simple.
I tried cupcakes.
Made without the help of a box cupcakes.
And they failed.
I have no idea what happened. I followed the directions exactly…I didn’t even rush. I had a neat-o little container to carry them and I made the frosting from scratch, too and had it all planned out….
It was not meant to be, these cupcakes.
The baking disaster got to the point that I asked Tim to try them after he got home from work. I wanted him to be brutally honest because I kept trying them and thinking something just wasn’t right.
I tried them so much that I felt sick to my stomach and couldn’t even look at them without wanting to vomit.
He took one bite and was all, “No. Those…just…did you put any sugar in the actual cupcake?…”
I shook my head like, “Yes!!…I did everything the instructions said and they’re still awful! I can’t bring these! I can’t be known to everyone as the wife who makes things that we have to choke down!”
I finally decided that it wasn’t me.
It was the recipe.
And then, I begrudgingly decided to skip yet another workout and start all over this morning at 5:45am with a whole new plan: white chocolate and cranberry oatmeal cookies and cheesecake brownies…with the help of a brownie mix box.
(And I followed the brownie recipe exactly except the part where I used brownie mix instead of all of that other stuff they said to do to make brownies. That looked entirely too complicated for 5:45 in the morning)
Things are slightly messy and not very pretty but
much better edible, now.
Hopefully everyone enjoys my blood, sweat and super sore back.
And I seriously don’t want to see another dessert in like…thirty minutes.
Even if Tim’s direct reports don’t like my baking (non)skills, I doubt anyone would give the side eye to the dessert made by a ginormous pregnant lady.
Oh, remember the drawer of clothes I just showed you a few minutes ago (pregnancy brain…it doesn’t always allow for a coherent flow…please forgive me)? This morning, as I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I caught Tim staring into it with this crazy cute look on his face while he was waiting for the iron to heat up. He looked up at me and was all, “We’re going to have a baby!…A baby who fits into these tiny clothes!”
He’s so ready for baby sprout. It’s freaking adorable.
Speaking of, I’m officially 36 weeks pregnant TODAY!
As if to celebrate the one month left milestone early, my body decided to give these random, shooting, feels-like-someone-is-shoving-an-ice-pick-into-my-cervix pains last night that came out of nowhere.
I was laying on the couch, minding my own business and then BAM!
I jumped all, “What the hell?! Someone slipped the baby a shiv!”
After I laid there, trying to relax through that bit of fun, I read up on Dr. Google and found that those pains can potentially be either the sprout sitting on my cervix or my cervix starting to dilate.
I’ll take the second option, the dilating one, even though a few of the pains hurt so much it brought tears to my eyes.
It’s like a precursor to the real thing.
And I want to do this birth naturally?….OMG.