Who said nesting is only for birds? I’m in full nesting mode this week. We’ve transitioned Hooper to his other room, leaving the nursery ready to be messed with. And mess with it, I have. The drawers are stocked with newborn diapers and clothes for the first six months. I know, I rock. Next on the list is to clean. Not just a general clean, but a fierce clean. The kind of cleaning that has your husband wondering what you’re on and others wondering why there are rug burns on your knees. I have a few decorative things to do as well and then it will be set to go. I owe ya’ll a separate post on Hooper’s transition out of the crib and into his big boy bed, but for now just know that he is alive and so are we.

I think the pregnancy gods caught me almost slippin’ last week when I dared to label my pregnancies as “easy”. Seemingly the next day it’s like lightening struck in my right groin. I’m kinda being general when I say right groin. Oh hell, what I really mean is that my f’n vagina hurt, a lot, mostly on the right side. After yelling a few curse words as I tried to turn off my back, because lets face it, lying on your back with a baby in your belly down right sucks a fat one. But every time I tried to turn right or left, well, I became a sailor and cursed at the top of my lungs. Ya’ll should know that I have a sensitive husband. Sensitive not so much in the “did I hurt your feelings?” way, but more like sensitive in the “are you going to die?” way. He’s extreme in his sensitivity. So needless to say, he was overly concerned and asking if I needed to go to the hospital. I sent him to the freezer for an ice pack. Then I went to bed. I try to remind him from time to time that I’m pregnant, not dying. Oh Willy, you really are a precious little thing. The pain was gone when I woke up, but has returned sporatically since then.

My back pain has transformed into stiffness. It’s the inability to bend over and touch my toes or to twist from side to side. It’s that dang thing I’ve been calling “Van” jetting out from my abdomen, really. It’s in the way and it’s causing my back to feel tighter than 1980’s spandex. If I could just get a break from this pregnancy thing for 2 minutes and bust out a good crack, I think relief would flow through my spine like water down a creek. Some mornings I wake up thinking I’m going to birth this baby and before I even sneak a peek at his precious little face I’m gonna reach down, touch my toes, crack my neck from side to side, and then ask that he be placed in my arms. I’m joking, of course, but you get the idea.

As a sidenote, the dress I’m wearing is vintage and I’m in love with it. I originally got it with the intention of adding it to my post pregnancy prize pack but was delighted to find that it’s still suitable even with the baby bump. Next week, however, may be a different story… I think next weeks bump may cause it to bust at the seams.