Well, we are officially 18 days away from our due date (!!!), and here we are at that familiar stage in pregnancy where we can’t wait to meet our tiny person, but we are also simultaneously terrified to meet said tiny person because of all the work we know is ahead.

Yep. That picture is pretty much me for the next 3 weeks. Nope. No baby yet. But… there is another huge thing happening soon and in town…

I’m not a complainer, nor am I particularly sensitive to offhand comments, dirty jokes or innuendo, and rarely do I react to the crappy things that people tend to say so freely these days. (Oh hey, Facebook.)

Despite the title of this post, I’m not singing The Fresh Prince theme song over here. The “relaxin” I’m talking about has nothing to do with shootin’ some b-ball outside of the school.

Have you seen the kid’s party that is taking the internet by storm? A 3-year-old insisted on Poop as the theme for her 3rd birthday party. Take a quick look. I’ll wait here.

Don’t let the calm strolling-through-the-park picture at the top of this post fool you. I am in full-on crisis mode.

Here in the land of 33 Weeks Pregnant with Two Toddlers, things are starting to fall apart. I don’t mean that figuratively, because all the important stuff is intact; I mean it literally. As in, my poor aching bones. I cried for absolutely no reason for the third time this weekend and it just felt so good, I may have to do it again. For no reason.

Our new bundle isn’t here yet (7 weeks to go!), but I’m already getting ready for those first couple months at home when we will be hunkering down, doing nothing but chilling out and sleeping.

They sit there on my nightstand, stacked eight high, their spines decorated with pastel flourishes and encouraging titles. They are the Leaning Tower of Promise. A promise I never tapped into. Yeah, I’m kinda stupid like that.

As if pushing a tiny person out of a small part of your body weren’t task enough, mentally preparing for labor alone can also be quite a chore.