I'm almost 39 weeks pregnant and looking forward to meeting the little one that has been keeping me up at night. Carter, now 2 years and 9 months old, has no clue what is about to hit him. He rubs my belly and says "mama, tell your baby that his big brother is going to teach him how to jump on the couch", but I don't think he really understands.
So our pressure now is to get this baby out (safely) sometime in the next few days so we can make it to our friend Jon's wedding this coming Saturday. I think I am extremely under-remembering what it was like to have a newborn. I don't think I left the house for about a month after Carter was born. Why to I seem to think it will be so much easier this time around? I tend to underestimate difficulty lately. Like this past week when I thought it would be a fabulous idea to take Carter, and our two hissing cats, to the vet at snack time. Fortunately I only ended up with one scratch to show for it. And I do know that Carter weighs 32 pounds on the dog scale.....
