Nine and a half days until Baby Bean is born and (yes, T.) we will be a complete family of six (I think)! I’m in full-on nesting mode, and honestly thought I might go into labor last night. I spent the evening after supper putting boxes that had been sitting in our bedroom since we moved in into the attic, cleaning our room, and getting the rocking chair in there for those late nights (T. moved the chair, don’t worry). And then I spent the rest of the night incredibly uncomfortable, having contractions and praying for sleep so they’d go away (or wouldn’t, so we’d go to the hospital). They weren’t the so-painful-you-can-barely-speak-let-alone-breathe kind of contractions, but they were the oh-my-gosh-please-make-it-stop-please-please-please kind of contractions. I knew that if I could go to sleep, they’d either go away or I’d wake up knowing that we had to move it, move it to the hospital.

Are those two things related, the cleaning of the bedroom and the hours of misery? Probably. The whole time I was cleaning, I reminded myself not to overdo it. But when you’re nine months pregnant, picking up the toddler can be overdoing it. And why in the world would God give pregnant women this crazy, irrational, impossible to ignore nesting instinct if every little thing would send them into labor?

So yes, I do have a little bit of an energy spurt happening these days. And every time I look around, I see things that need to be done. And about every third time I look around, I actually do one of them.