Boy brought down her clothes and diapers from the attic. Friends came over to help sort, and we went through three bins and a trash bag of old Peanut clothes in no time.
Of course, I did not haul myself up to the attic to see if Boy had gotten everything. He assured me he had. Instead, I stewed for two days wondering why we hadn't run across my favorite baby hat. Today I go upstairs and immediately see three (THREE!) clear plastic bags and a lidless box full of baby clothes.
He's such a help though. Yesterday I went to the grocery store, and I would surely have given up and gone home had he not been there to bend over for me. Why do they even Have a bottom shelf? Seriously!
And he did clean the stairwell for me. Top to bottom. Swept,vacuumed and mopped. Now if we burned his shoes instead of leaving them out there to stink and fester it would be show worthy. Point is, he did the work by himself just so I wouldn't have to, and he did it well enough that I don't have to do the work a second time after him.
Simon's been a big help too. He's been cooking dinner and helping keep the kitchen from becoming a disaster zone. He takes care of Peanut when I'm sick of her climbing on my belly. He smoothes things with Boy when I'm Hormonal Bitch Mom. And he works 50 hours a week. The man deserves a medal.
The point of all this, I guess, is just to say that between the three of us we've gotten enough done that I won't panic if I go into labor now. I'm actually looking forward to it Very Much. This baby just feels too big for my insides.