It occurred to me recently that I’m ready to evict the tenant in my belly. I mean that in the most loving way possible. This comes on the heals of a weekend spent moving my three year old daughter into the biggest bedroom (formerly the office), moving the office into the (now shared) living room and attempting to empty out the small bedroom that used to be my daughters to create a nursery.

That’s right! All that while 34wks pregnant. Pshaw to you braxton hicks contractions, you’re no match for the powers of nesting. I laugh in your general direction - silly rule that says pregnant women shouldn’t lift more then 10 lbs, HA! My husband and I powered thru this huge project - still working on it a bit actually but the big parts are done - and we survived. We managed to not kill each other, yell at each other or act toddler-like in any way during the process. This was a huge feet on both of our parts considering my state of being.

Now as I sit here exhausted I think of how many times during the weekend I thought to myself, “This would be a terrible time to go into labor… but….” but I would sort of love to meet this little guy renting my body at the moment. I know he doesn’t know that’s what he’s doing but honestly that’s how it feels toward the end here. I remember reading somewhere that when you get to a certain point in your pregnancy the baby is just packing on the pounds, getting stronger, bigger, etc. The developing part is basically over (till it begins in a new way outside of the womb) and for now I know this giant belly of mine is merely a warm comfy place to eat, sleep, etc.

I know it’s not the most beautifully maternal sentiment but I’m big, it’s hot and I’m getting to that stage where I’m tired of feeling awkward. Sleeping is this difficult yet so desirable thing. I’m exhausted, I climb in to bed, I flip, I flop I enjoy a little heartburn, I get up I have to pee… wait did I sleep? No not yet, let’s try to do that again, oh damn it’s morning and I have to get up with the cutest little roommate I’ve ever known, my 3yr old.

She’s been precious lately making me feel a smidge guilty about my 3vil post. Knock on wood we’ve been free & clear of tantrums even amidst the huge changes, a visit from Nana & Papa and a mama that’s not nearly as awesome as usual.

So I’m ready. I’m ready to bend over, sit down and stand up and not dread every minute of it. I’m ready to have my body back now, I wrote and ate a letter of eviction tonight and I know he’s got certain tenants rights and that paper isn’t a natural way to induce labor but dang. I’m ready.