It's been quite awhile since my last post - basically because I got swept up in the holidays (which were great) and prepping for the new little one on the way (which has kept me busy to say the least).
And now, it's crunch time. We're in countdown mode, and I'm positive that I am in denial.
As of about 8 a.m. tomorrow, it will be only one week - seven days - until our second baby girl, Cecilia Ruth, will be here. To be honest, I'm not sure how the heck that's possible.
According to my ever-expanding belly and the frequent "I'm out of room, please get the the heck out of here!" kicks, I'm ready.
According to my heart, I'm so excited to meet my new little chickadee. I spend time every day imagining what she'll look like, what color her eyes and hair will be, how mini she'll seem compared to my now nearly 2-year-old Miss. Olive, and what kind of person she'll be.
My brain, however, refuses to accept the facts. I consider myself a pretty logical person. I think everything out. I pride myself on being prepared.
Though our house is not as ready as I'd like it to be (which is OK because I do still have a week, after all), I know that it's ready enough for a baby to arrive any day. Diapers, co-sleeper, itsy-bitsy clothes ... check, check, check.
I think my lack of acceptance of the minimal time I have left before the baby arrives is based on the fact that I don't know exactly what to expect. I mean, I know how to care for a wee one. That's not a concern. But, I don't know what it will be like to take care of two little ones.
It's one of those things that no one can truly explain to you or prepare you for. It's something you just have to trust that you can handle and take moment by moment, making the best decisions you can as time goes by.
Although I know this, I'm having a really hard time accepting it. I'm excited for baby CeCe to be here soon, and I think I'm as ready as I can be. As for everything else, I'm just hoping it falls into place as easily as it did when we welcomed Miss Olive.
