We have (nearly) made it to the weekend.
And it’s the first one in about one hundred years where JW or I aren’t tied up for at least half of it.
Also, in but one week at this time, JW will be two days from the last final of his MBA program, which is such exciting news that baby W actually let him feel one of his kicks last night.
Baby W might be a little spiteful, like his mom. He kicks on his own schedule. He is nobody’s jester, apparently.
We’ve got it, buddy.
In any case, JW being done means that we can finally get down to things like making this ramshackle office into a nursery and pre-registering for the hospital like I was supposed to do one million years ago, I think.
So far, the room contains an air mattress (because T likes to jump on it), a computer, and a few hundred piles of assorted stuff.
Also, a baby swing that Liz gave us.
Last week, T stopped by, walked into the “nursery” (which he thinks is his own personal junk room), looked at the swing, pointed, and said, “Mine.”
I tried to explain to him that the swing was for the baby, and that he was too big for it, but to prove his point that the infant swing was in fact his, he climbed right in, hitting his head on the mobile, and demanded that I turn it on.
Which I did, because it was a hysterical scene, and also, it’s hard to say no to a two-year old.
While the mobile turned and T ducked his head out of the way, he identified each animal or shape that was nearly smashing into his forehead as it rotated by.
“Star. Sheep. Cloud.”
He’s so smart, you guys.
In the end, I was able to lure him out with the promise of a cookie and our piggy bank (another one of his preferred “toys” around here), but I look forward to his reaction of a whole room of baby items.
Maybe it’s better that we have a couple more weeks before we get started here.
Enjoy this one, chickens- the weekend’s just about here.