Nesting

My sweet baby girl,

I have been busy this week getting ready for you. So busy in fact that I started having premature contractions (again). I have cleaned and sorted and organized. Little one, I even busted out the iron for you. That's how much I love you. You know your mom doesn't iron. Not since burning my arm very badly on one right after I started dating your dad (he gets nervous every time I pull the iron out and half the time it scares him enough that he ends up ironing his own shirts).

But I didn't burn myself once! Not in three days of crazy pressing.

Your clothes are all washed. Your blankets are clean. I have dismantled everything I can and given it a good scrubbin' so things will be perfect and clean for you. On the floor of your bedroom has been a pile of used lysol wipes from my frantic cleaning.

I ironed out every ribbon on your Sunday dresses. I know someday I will just be happy to have you dressed and I won't care if it matches or if it's even clean, but for today, love, your church dresses and rompers are clean, stain-free, and pressed.

When you arrive and everything is suddenly upside-down because I couldn't find my sweats in the middle of the night and you are crying because I can't pull out the boppy fast enough I want you to remember that I did try to make everything perfect. I have a feeling that will go very quickly out the window when you arrive. I can't wait to meet you, little one.

love, mama.

ps. every morning your dad comes in and gently tries to wake me up. Lately I am so exhausted that I can hardly move in the mornings. But you get all excited when you hear his voice that you will wake up (you're still a night sleeper) and start wiggling all over the place. It's pretty darn cute. You sure love your papa.