Cleaning the house. Company's coming.
It isn't lost on me that I should be packing my hospital bag. Reading the final chapters of What to Expect When You're Expecting.
You know, the ones that have to do with no longer expecting, but instead experiencing.
I should have a belly rounded out by my Leila, instead of rounded out by my emotional eating.
They should have a warning label on PopTarts - they're every bit as addictive as crack.
I should be nagging at Yasar as he installs the infant carseat in my Nissan, telling him he's not doing it right.
My mailbox seems to be breeding Similac samples lately. Like bunnies. I should be stocking up instead of throwing them in the food pantry donation box.
You, too, Huggies.
Cleaning the house can seem like such a waste of time, in the grand scheme of things.
The good news is I got the bedroom cleaned, so I moved Leila over to my bedside table. Placed her in her Peace Bear's lap. And I think I'm going to get a picture framed. Or maybe see if I can get one drawn here. I'd love to see if they could draw one of my gremom holding Leila in heaven.
I feel like my nightstand has become kind of a mini-altar dedicated to her life.
But now she's within arm's reach as I dream about her, a pathetic little comfort.
I'm dreading the Big Bad Due Date. October 12th. It fast approacheth.
A question for my fellow angel mommies, any suggestions for something to do that day?