So, in theory there will be a baby here in 10 weeks

We moved!  The move itself generally went quite well.  We  had to be in our new place by 5pm.  The movers arrived at 7:30am, packed up the entire contents of our apartment by 1:30pm, and had everything into the new apartment by 4:30pm.  The problem started after the movers left.  "Where are the glasses?" I wondered.  They took over a day to find.  "Any idea where our pillows are?"  Basically, everything got labeled with a generic "Kitchen" or "Master Bedroom" label.  Makes it tough to find specifically what you're looking for. This was especially a problem for our flatware, to the point where on Friday Jeeves had to bring plastic cutlery home from work because we had nothing to eat with. In the end, the flatware was in a box labeled "food."  So, my advice to you would be that if you ever hire movers to also do the packing, follow them around and maybe label the boxes with some specifics.

Anyway, this is the first move I've made in my adult life where I am moving between equivalent spaces as opposed to moving into something bigger.  Yes, we have the second bedroom, but the master bedroom is much smaller than our old bedroom, and we have a lot less closet space.  In the end, we've definitely gained square footage, and we got rid of some old furniture, but we still have a lot of stuff and the end result is that as we unpack, we have to really think about where things are going.  

That, combined with the fact that I am 30 weeks pregnant, means that unpacking is going slowly.  I would highly recommend that if you need to move when pregnant, do it in the second trimester, if you can.  We didn't really have a choice here, but oh man.  I just feel like the biggest dummy.  I am so easily exhausted, bending over boxes makes my sciatica hurt, I huff and puff for air.  Basically I unpack a box, and then I have to rest for half an hour.  It's very frustrating.  I just want to get it all done!  Now!  But I can't.  I went to work today and was like, "Oh wow, work is much more relaxing than being home."

Last night as I was drifting off to sleep, I was thinking of all the stuff we have to do before Manuji comes.  I still have to pre-register at the hospital and take a hospital tour. Our birthing class is this weekend.  We have to choose a pediatrician and meet him or her.  The baby's room is currently filled with boxes of our crap - how's it going to be ready in time?  What about the infant CPR class, when are we taking that?  Are we getting a car?  When will we have time to get one?  I want to put wall decals up in the baby's room - which ones should I get and when will we put them up?  Am I going to be a huge failure at breast feeding?  How am I going to make it to 40 weeks when I'm already having trouble doing much of anything at 30 weeks?  Did I mention that the only things we actually own for the baby right now are a couple of outfits (gifts from friends) and a copy of the book Corduroy from Wendy?  So, our baby will not be naked for at least 2 days and will have a book to read.... and that's it.

I know, I know.  It will all somehow get done.  But it's getting very real - Manuji is going to be here very soon (I don't want to jinx it, I know things can still go horribly wrong, but I'm hopeful that we will actually have a baby to bring home in the end).

Dad is okay.  He started chemo again today.  I did not go with him.  While we were talking this afternoon, a few things came up regarding how he is feeling physically and some issues with colostomy supplies that made me wish for the umpteenth time that he were in assisted living, and that also made me feel badly about not being there to take care of him.  Part of me wanted to rush out there and start making phone calls for him. But physically, I just can't do it.  And I know some of my feelings are very co-dependenty and I need to remind myself that Dad is an adult and if things go wrong he may have to go into a nursing home or what have you, but it's not my job to fix everything for everyone.  Still.  It's hard to feel like Dad is coming to the end of the line.

Sorry if this post is moany groany.  Not my intention.  I really do love our new apartment.  My commute to work is a piece of cake.  I ate some really great pancakes this weekend.  And some good ice cream too.  Deep breaths.  Deep breaths.