Mini-Madonna #2

I am 28 weeks pregnant which means two things. Firstly, that I'm up twenty-one pounds and baby is about so big:

And, secondly, that I have only 12 weeks to go. Or less, if baby continues to measure two weeks ahead as she has been. So, even though I've been working crazy hours and 100% focused on getting 1500 pallets of toys from one warehouse to the next, it's now time to focus on the fact that BABY IS COMING. SOON. It was all too easy to walk away from that ultrasound telling myself "OK, another girl, we have it covered". Because, as mentioned before, we have boxes & boxes of girl clothes in the garage. And toys. And bottles. And a crib. And pretty much all the essential stuff.

Except now I'm not talking about stuff. I'm referring to the fact that this little girl is her OWN person, coming on her own schedule, that won't care much about mine! I need to focus on her having a name, and a personality, and day-dream about who she'll look like, and give the pregnancy as much attention and excitement as my first. She is much more active & kicks far harder than Abigail ever did so she might be trying to do this to me herself. She's already determined not to be just 'Abby's little sister'. She is Mini-Madonna #2, equally as important as Mini-Madonna #1. And I don't ever want to feel like I swam through this pregnancy and forgot to stop & treasure it.

So, what better thing than retail to kick me into gear? I went shopping to help picture this little girl in her own right. So, now she has these:

and Grandma bought these for our little 'winter delivery'

and this shirt really moved me - doesn't it just scream 'I am COMING!!!'?

Life at Home

Abigail & Matteo are old enough now to spend the night at each other's house. They both love it & hate it (which is how goes their relationship in general!)

can't believe how old she looks here

this is not an ad for Bisquick - it's Abby's Sunday morning making waffles with her dad, we do this every Sunday

 

Cutting

It is not often that a three-year-old plays quietly in their room, undisturbed, for an hour. UNLESS they have just been given a pair of plastic pre-school scissors and a pile of scrap paper. I was told "this is a pile of mail, mum":

Then, another hour the next morning:

At least it's a neat & orderly pile, right?!

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time

Just delightful - loved this book: