I wish I could say everything has been rainbows and fairytales since we brought John Luke home. It hasn’t been, chaotic is more like it. His nursery wasn’t ready. We had ordered the crib and the bedding, but it had not arrived. All that were in his room were bags and bags of baby gifts that still needed to be sorted, and thank you notes still to be written. I don’t know why I was under this false sense of security that I wouldn’t deliver early. I guess because I had not had any swelling, no early signs of contractions, and in general, felt great.
In my Type A mind, I had these visions that we would bring John Luke home, and usher him into his beautifully decorated, well organized nursery. My house would be clean for all those well wishers wanting to drop by and see the new baby. Not to mention, they would get to see my beautifully decorated and well organized nursery, the one I spent weeks planning (albeit in my mind). My goal was to get the thank you notes written while we were waiting on the crib and bedding to arrive. Then I would launch into a “Martha Stewart on steroids” frenzy and get the nursery looking like it came right off a Pinterest post.
Luckily, the crib arrived the day after he was born, and we did get the nursery (semi-finished). The thank you notes have been written, and things are starting to settle down. My days (and nights) are filled with milk stained shirts, bottle washings, butt wiping, and sleep deprivation. My social calendar has been reduced to 3 AM feedings with my little man, a recliner, and yes-sometimes a remote control.
I wouldn’t trade it for anything. So, if you drop by my house on a moments notice, please overlook the fact that I will most likely still be in my milk stained PJ’s, and have good intentions of cleaning the house. Sometime.