Feels like crunch time!

Well, here we are...60 days to go. I made a list last night of all the things to do. 60 days can seem like a lot on paper, but when I boil it down, it's just 9 Saturdays until the due date!! YIKES!
"Deep breath. You can do this, Shelley."
I really like being prepared. This tendency is one of the hardest things for me to deal with as I think about the transition to mommy-and-daddy-hood. I am embracing the fact that I will not have a CLUE for the next 18 years. I mean, I can pack his snacks for road trips, have an extra onesie (or three extras) in the car, and have extra diapers...I can plan appointments and soccer registration and what schools to send him to. I can make sure he has notebooks and pencils and crayons for the big first day of kindergarten.
But I cannot plan for the minute-by-minute decisions and dilemmas that will face Jerod and me as we attempt to turn the little pooping-crying-smiling machine into a responsible, compassionate person.
In moments like this, I am reminded of my frailties and my intense need for God's grace. It reminds me of what faith is all about. Stepping out into the nothingness and knowing that God will place a stepping-stone beneath my feet. I will rest in his grace. I will breathe deeply His presence and drink from His fountain of knowledge.
And I will still go online this weekend and find a shade for the nursery window too. As much as I want the Son to shine in the nursery, I don't need full sunshine. Lord, help us all.


I'm a "we" in more ways than one

I'm reading Donald Miller's new book "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years". It's ridiculously good. Of course, I love his style and thoughts. He talks a bit about our lives as a story...that we need to be listening to the Author's voice and "writing" our lives in such a way that is pleasing to God and active and interesting...that's a tragic boil-down of a lot of good exposition, but it works to give you some context.
One of the things I read last night was that our "stories" are much more interesting when we're writing them for an "us" instead of a "me." We are better people when we don't isolate ourselves and we involve others in our storyline. He said this in the context of a dating relationship, but I find it true on so many other levels as well. Christian community, friendships, family and outreach to our community at large...
I've discovered this week that I much prefer "we" to me. Jerod has been out of the country for a full week now. I was really sad to put him on a plane and send him over the ocean. I'm pretty sure I went through a whole pocket pack of Kleenex on the way home from the airport! I mean, happy for HIM to experience wonderful sights and food and opportunities...but just sad that he wouldn't be around.
I tried to console myself with notions like this:
1. I will get to sleep on the WHOLE BED and stretch out like I used to before I was married. I used to sleep on my stomach in the "X" formation...and now that I'm pregnant, I like to bust out a "K" or an "L" on my side and take up most of the bed after he gets up in the morning.
2. I will not have to wear my snore strips across my nose because my pregnancy-induced snoring will not bother the DOG.
3. I can eat whatever I want...and lots of Italian and Mexican food (since I tend to kill him with my near-constant desire for those nationalities' foods).
4. I can read as long as I like in bed because he will not be there to have light in his eyes.

And that's about all I came up with. It consoled me for a day or two. Some "me" time!
But I seem to be ruined for that now. I'm a "we."

1. I have been restless sleeping, despite my ability to take up the entire bed. His spot feels empty.
2. I don't miss the snore strips...I won't lie.
3. Picking out what to feed myself is more of a chore, and I miss having him around in the evening during dinner preparation...and our schedule in general. To be perfectly cliche, pizza just doesn't taste as good when we don't pass the (horrible-I know) garlic butter back and forth to dip our crusts in.
4. I am staying awake far too late reading, and miss those good 8 hours I get when I go to bed about the same time he does. It's like I stay up later because the silence and stillness seems boring and lifeless. I seem to need to fill it with activity of some sort.

I so appreciate all that he does around the house, too. He feeds all of our fish and looks after the dog and waters the plants, and keeps up with the mound of dishes. He makes me more grounded and calm. He encourages me to eat things like oranges, and he makes the morning coffee. And he mows our jungle of lawn.

I'm so glad he's coming back tomorrow. I don't need a lot of me time. I'm a we now. And soon we will be three. And things will change once again. I think I can roll with it. Life is more interesting when we're a we.