* We finally received the letter yesterday telling us that K has been accepted into the public school's preschool program for next year. I wasn't truly worried about getting in since she was placed on the waiting list last year, but we're in the middle of trying to plan what to do with her this summer and with both children next fall, and it's hard not to let thoughts of "Oh Lord, what will we do if K doesn't get into Bright Futures?" creep into the middle of that. But she has, so we're set for that at least. Yay!
* I had an ultrasound last Tuesday, which revealed a baby that was most definitely male (what we saw at 19 weeks looked fairly penis-like, but was small enough that I wouldn't have died of shock if a girl had come out instead. Now, however, there's absolutely no mistaking it. And his testes have descended, which is good news for his future fertility), measuring 2-3 weeks ahead, seven pounds and head down...ish. During the ultrasound, it was fairly straight down, but then he squirmed around a bit and spent the next couple days crossways across my abdomen with his head lodged in my left hip. And now? I'm getting a hard round object pushing in my ribs, repeated jabs to the left hip and the hiccups that were by my pubic bone earlier this week are now at my ribs, which is to say I think he flipped again. Sigh. I will be talking delivery options with the doctor next week at my 37 week appointment. If we decide to schedule a c-section, it will very likely be sometime between 39 and 40 weeks, which means I could be looking at a baby as soon as 2 1/2 weeks from now. Eep.
* The newborn size diapers I ordered arrived yesterday - we didn't start cloth diapering with K until she was big enough for medium size, so we needed to get smaller covers and infant sized prefolds instead of using our stash of premium size which would swallow a newborn whole. Oh goodness, the concentrated cuteness strength of all of those teeny little diaper covers with a sampling of adorable prints could be bottled and sold as an illicit street drug.
I don't know why having diapers in particular should bring home the fact that we're going to have a baby soon so much more than, say, pulling out two tubs of teeny 0-3 month clothes and washing them, but it does. They're sending this urgent message that in not very long at all, we're going to have an inhabitant of this house small enough to wear them. And it won't be a cat.
* K came up to me this morning and told me, "You don't want to go to work today. You want to stay at the house with me."
Oh, you don't know how right you are, sweetheart, but I had to go to work anyway. Thankfully, she accepted my leaving fairly cheerfully, but it's another sign of the separation anxiety we've been seeing lately. She doesn't want to go to preschool (although she's always happy once she's there), she doesn't want to be left alone in her room at bedtime, she would quite possibly be happiest if I would allow her to simply meld herself to my skin so she could be at my side at all times.
I don't think it takes Dr. Spock to recognize that this is almost certainly baby-related anxiety. Given that she knows that life is going to change profoundly very soon, but has no idea how, I can't really blame her. There's not much to be done except be patient with her. I could live without the mouthiness and defiance though.
* Given that we have potentially two weeks until the eaglet lands, I may need to actually pull out the sewing machine to finish what I want to get done. My realistic plans are to make K a couple princess dresses for her birthday along with a cloak, and would like to make a bunch more cloth wipes and some cloth pads for myself (I won't even show my unrealistic sewing plans the light of day, since I might as well just start gathering twigs and straw and arranging them in the tree in the front yard as attempt to get them done). And speaking of birthdays and two weeks, we should probably get on the stick about planning her birthday party. I think the current plans are inviting a couple preschool friends over for cupcakes and running around outside and splashing in the wading pool. Ideally all _before_ giving birth.
* In the very little non-baby related news we have, Lily got her stitches out last week and seems entirely recovered. As I write this, she's looking down on me from the top of the cat tree, queen of all she surveys. No doubt looking for more inappropriate things to choke on after failing to eat a small plastic doll shoe. Clearly she has learned a valuable lesson.