Remember how I was cleaning out my camera, well I never actually finished. I could skip the finishing of the cleaning out of the camera and entertain you with the wonderfully romantic plans the husband and I have made for (presumably) our last Valentine's Day as non-parents, but I suspect as soon as I uttered the words "bi-weekly non-stress test," "town meeting" and "sewer system," you would tune me out. Which quite frankly would be silly, because come on y'all, is there anything that says romance like spending an evening with a bunch of your neighbors and elected officials and talking about failing septic systems, city sewer lines, and environmental impact statements? Nope, I think not. Do you know how hot I will be if my husband convinces these folks to hook us up to the city sewer for less than the Are-You-Fucking-High-$20,000 they want to charge? WAY. HOT. So WAY FRIGGEN HOT that it will have been a good thing that I had the bi-weekly non-stress test. But since I suspect I am an oddball, well, I figured I would share the last of the pictures rotting in my camera instead.
These pictures are all related to the new human being we plan to bring home with us in a little over a month. You would think that it would be around this point, 8+ months, that I would be all, "HOLY SHIT, we are getting a new human in a little over a month!" But actually, I'm still not feeling like this is real. I wonder if that real-feeling will set in at some point before the baby is crowning.
Anywho, without further bumbling, the new stuff which we actually purchased all by our little selves (as opposed to the plethora of new things - some of which I totally do not know what to do with or how to work - that very nice people have given us because 1) they like us and wish us well, or, more likely, 2) they are worried about our level of cluelessness and are giving us subtle help while at the same time memorizing the number to our local social services office).
First up, a glider which is suppose to some how rock my world (no pun intended, but now that it's there, heh) and some lullabies.
In case you are curious about our level of nuts, we are at the level where we will spend $80 on lullaby CD's. This is a little higher than the normal level of nuts as I swore that I would never give Metallica a dime after the whole Napster snafu. I loved Napster and was ticked that Metallica was throwing a wrench in things. So before it became illegal (and not one time since because I am law-abiding, or paranoid), I downloaded every Metallica song I could find. For free. So there. Put that in your pipe and smoke it Mr. Lars-I-am-Already-a-Millionaire-Screwing-the-Regular-Guy-Asshole-Ulrich. Despite my resolve to never give Metallica shit, I couldn't help myself when I saw the CD. There were a lot to chose from but Boo and I compromised, each picking two. I went for the U2 and Metallica lullabies and he went for Led Zeppelin and the Beatles. What this means is that I am going to have to find some 50 Cent lullabies to counter act the damage of The Beatles. Such is my lot in life though.
My lot in life also involves bags, and, I assume, diaper bags. Quite frankly, the diaper bag shopping has been my most favorite part of baby shopping yet. Swaddling swinging things? No clue. Purses? I get it. I know purses. I understand purses. Which is why it is so odd that I am not sure about my feelings on the first diaper bag I purchased.
That is the Mia Bossi Cherry Fizz, in case you were wondering. I like the bag design and the size. But the color is kinda weird. The white bits are actually more bone than white. I am not sure how I feel about this.