I am only 3 weeks away from my projected due date, and here's where things stand.
 If the baby was born today-- we'd have no name picked, no girls clothes, and no diapers bought, BUT we'd have a crib for the very first time, AND at least some idea of what to expect this time around. So I'm not sweating it. I did have that feeling of "nesting" that so many pregnant women talk about for the very first time a couple days ago. And the result was setting up for Christmas. We now have a mantle draped in garland, and an urn filled with red sticks and pine branches. I also play a lot of Christmas music. In the chaos that is my living room, music and Christmas lights temper the anxieties I am feeling at the thought of giving birth a second time. In preparation for the next bundle of lungs and joy, we have introduced Jesse to his "big boy bed". I am not sure why this would matter at all, but it just seems like the next step. That, and we realized two days ago that he can actually get enough momentum to flip himself head first out of his playpen. I was there to see it, and prevent that trip to Emerg. So, the time came to put him in a real bed, and I am already mourning the loss of his playpen. There are serious drawbacks to a 19 month old in a real bed.
Such as, he is no longer contained and I am left to wonder at all the sounds coming from the other side of his door. He can also open doors, and so the next logical step is that he will now come out of bed (quite easily) and chill in the living room, at any hour he feels so inclined. Last nights issue with the big bed was anxiety, which could not be soothed-- and so James spent the night with Jesse's feet pummeling his back because we caved and let him sleep with us. I cannot get my head around the amount of movement that goes on while this kid sleeps. Last night is not one I would like to see repeated. But, peace reigns again while he sleeps, and I blog, and feel new little feet pummel my insides while I try to get comfortable in this recliner chair that makes me uncomfortable. That thing I wrote about 'peace' a moment ago has already been interrupted by the fact that the garbage truck just caught my attention-- or more accurately, the truck that drove past with nothing on my curb to pick up,  and James' voice coming back to me as I dropped him off for school...' make sure you take out the garbage Ree....'  Oops.
At least I remembered to bake. I am participating in a Christmas bake exchange this aft with a few girls, and although my numbers were off, and I made enough for everyone excluding myself, I'm banking on getting way better stuff in return :) Speaking of which, I should be heading there now, and I doubt the towel on the head look is going to cut it, nor James' sweatpants that I've claimed as mine for the duration of the 3rd trimester. Time to put myself together.. and then the living room.