Four more days. We have a target date. If all goes as planned, there will be a new baby sometime on Friday. Induced labor. This is the last weekend that little Charlie will be an “only.” We are all trying to tattoo it into our memories, but it is inevitable that in a few years, we won’t be able to remember very much about what it was like when he was the only important guy.
Freezer meals. I am making as many of them as I can. That brand new chest freezer begs to be filled. Slight problem: casseroles are not an option. This is a challenge, but I have great social media friends who have given me a long selection of other options. The shopping cart tomorrow will be groaning.
Laundry. One load a day now. Soon to be many.
Trips to preschool? I have practiced the way. But thank God for my dear friend Siri. She and I will become bosom buddies in the next couple of weeks. I have nearly memorized the four-page (single spaced) instructions that my totally organized daughter has compiled. But I may still pull an all-nighter Thursday evening, just to make sure that I have all the gate codes, home alarm procedures, and TV remote (three of them) sequences well in mind.
Grandpa arrives in a week. There is a to-do list for him as long as my arm.
This brings back so many memories. As I struggle to wrap my head around show and tell selections, whether or not to use bubble bath or that baby wash stuff, trying to decide which of the many snack selections (all organic) to put in the CARS lunch box, I think of my mother. I wonder what she thought of the lists I left her 39 years ago.
I am mainlining vitamin B.