ok i'm ready now

I had my (now weekly) check-up yesterday. As with Jordan, my doctor essentially told me to "get comfortable." I'm not technically due until next week so I wasn't expecting to be shuttled to the hospital or anything, but it's still not the most fun thing to hear at this particularly progressed point.

Especially because - I'm done! My projects are complete. Commence proverbial thumb twiddling. Half the apartment has been Goodwilled, furniture has been completely shifted from original setting, the patio is blossoming in it's glorious revamp, my "bedside nursery" is fully operational with side-table-turned-changing-table and nightlights et al, and lo, my hospital bag is packed. Jordan and I fill our mornings with menial errands and then while she naps I'm given to fits of running the dishwasher twice in a row and vacuuming our freshly steam-cleaned carpet. Also, I cook meals now apparently. Who Am I.

Really though, I feel okay about waiting this last little bit. I'm antsy to meet this guy, (and since my belly is frequently taking the form of shark-riddled waters with a rogue foot or arm sliding its way up and down the entire area, I'd say he's feeling out an escape route as well) but it's been pretty nice having this time with Jordo. Her budding conversational skills have me chortling hourly (upon The Prince of Egypt's frequent outbursts into song, I'm firmly instructed to "nance" with her allll around the living room; her new pronunciation of "truck" is especially disconcerting on the freeway where there seem to be "big **cks mommy!!!" just about everywhere) and I really feel like we've had a good little stretch to examine each other more closely as mother and daughter. When I was working it was go! go! breakfast, play-clothes, car, bye!! then, ok here's your dinner and off to bed with you! Now we take it slow, the day unfolds organically and little errands crop up to keep us busy. It's kinda great.

I guess what I mean is: ok baby, show yourself. But also, thanks for giving me a little time to spend with your sister...and to exorcise the nesting demons. I'm done, and you're welcome anytime.

The following is proof of all my projecting. Snore, I know. I neglected to take "before" pics so here are old ones I dug up in an attempt to show the previous layout:

 clutter

 claustrophobia

couch nemesis

what Sean sent me when he was in the middle of disposing of the sectional from hell

And now, with the layout flipped (couch where TV and bookshelves were, and vice versa)

 pregnant toes cameo

gallery wall (I'm so OCD about that blank spot on the left. Still have a couple frames left to get) and new black couch outfitted with ugly, already-owned-these pillows. 

Full disclosure, that couch is super uncomfortable. It'll be better once I get proper, not-hideous pillows, but I guess you just get what you pay for with furniture. And this was cheeeaaap. I do like its lines and the clean, sleek black, but dang, I wish it didn't feel like a bench in a prison yard.

Miscellaneous enterprises

 I created a coffee nook for Sean next to the oven, instead of sprawled in the middle of the main counter as it was before.

 Child, you shall sleep in that rocker, and you shall be changed 87+ times a night on that side table, 

then you shall feast beside me as I attempt to return to slumber, and finally you shall be returned to that rocker.

Hey there hospital bag. You and I have a date. It's coming soon.

So, apologies for all the "projects" posts but they've been dominating my life. Now I'm done and I'll try to dig up something marginally more thought provoking. Or maybe I'll just have a baby and post 1200 newborn photos. Which do you prefer?

drumroll 3+ months in the making

Remember I said this half past forever ago? And then I made these (ok fine, mostly my Aunt Mary made them) in a zealous fit of stick-to-it-tiveness? Well, it's only taken me over three months to follow through, but I do have a patio reveal for you. You can chalk it up to nap time productivity of a newly freed stay-at-home mom and/or 37 weeks of pregnant crazy, but I finally have my sanctuary.

This is what "sanctuary" looks like when it's in death's throttle:

cozy 

 nothing says "homey" like a pine needle ridden burlap runner

 Sean's & my attempt at keeping plant life: a "living" Christmas tree. that's dead.

 if you plant succulents, people can't see the squalor

packrats

So basically you'd probably contract a disease from stepping out on to our "patio," or as I affectionately think of it, the stoop of agony. Perhaps you can sympathize with what took so long to clean this crap up. 

Projects along the way:

after three trips to the dumpster

 before of free swing-arm eyesore

 during of armless swing-arm eyesore

new grayish BBQ station

Our kickass landlady, with whom I have a special rapport (we're always pregnant together) had our patio repainted at no cost, presumably because she understands the frantic desperation of nesting. So the pine needle stains, rain and tree sap residue, and overall yuck of the patio floor was stricken from our record.

Then I repainted our table frame the same color as that swing-arm table above, threw out the chairs which I'm preeeetty sure were purchased before I was born (the set is a hand-me-down from my grandparents), nailed up the bike (which Sean insists! he'll ride again one day...I tried twice or twelve times to throw it out or Craigslist it), and yesterday finished up the several miscellaneous projects that were keeping me from posting my after photos. I potted succulents; hung the AMAZING portable Ball jar display which my friend Kimmy made - made! - by hand, and will eventually host my herb garden; and jerry-rigged some hangers out of rubber bands and thumb tacks from which the broom and mop are suspended.

I think that was proper ado, so without any further:

 view from the sliding door

 newly spray painted IKEA lamp with my hard-to-kill succulent choices

 the man station

 the man station extended (oh hey, I sewed that curtain by myself!)

jealous of my herb vessels? you should be. Jordan's outfit choices?...

...I told her not to go "ow-yide" without her shoes on, so naturally...

 stage left, and

stage right

FIN