Confessions of a crazy person

I think if someone asked me to describe myself in three words lately, it would be: 1. worrier 2. organizer 3. psychotic and dangerously emotional (Yes, I realize that's more than 3).

(31 weeks and looking ginormous- also, in an attempt to avoid chronic squinty eye that I always get in pictures, I have a crazy wide eye instead...oh well..)

Psychotic and Dangerously Emotional:
Hormones...I think I read somewhere that the overly emotional stuff is supposed to start dwindling as you get into your third trimester? (...did I make that up?). I wasn't really that emotional in the first bit like every one says you're supposed to be--maybe you should ask the hubs, but I felt pretty normal. Anyway, I feel like it's multiplying by the DAY now. Sometimes I'll just start crying and I have no idea why. Or I'll look at a cute baby outfit or the partially set up nursery and get teary eyed- what the heck?! I haven't figured out yet if the tears are happy/excited tears, freaked out tears, or scared tears (scared tears for the impending doom that is about to reek havoc on my lady parts)..probably a bit of all three.

So recently we've been getting the baby's room all set up. Yesterday we rearranged the office so James has about half of it, with his desk/bookshelf/clutter of things, and the crib, glider, and changing table will be on the other side of the room. The "nesting" instinct is in full swing.
I tried helping James organize his desk stuff yesterday, and he politely told me to go find something else to do because I was driving him nuts. :-) I told him I was a bit anal about being organized these days (well, probably all the time but especially and ridiculously so now). To which he responded, "I think it's beyond anal." .."What's beyond anal?" I said.
..And I'll leave it at that..


I've started worrying about EVERYTHING related to this little girl, soon to make an appearance. Everything from, will she be pretty? Will she be smart? To will she listen to me when she's 16, heartbroken, thinking she knows everything about the world, when I tell her I understand what she's going through?
Am I even capable of keeping her ALIVE? Every plant I've ever had has died. So now there are fake plants in my house (and by plantS, I mean one). But you can't get a fake baby...well, you can, I did that in high school- the whole 'take care of this baby doll that will scream it's head off and drive you bonkers like a real baby is supposed to'.
THE POINT IS: this baby ain't fake.
Hopefully some serious natural instincts kick in. For both of our sakes.

I just think all the time, will I even be good at this?

This is crazy town. ALL OF IT. I guess whether I learn to cope with it or not, can do it or can't, worry about it or don't worry about it- in 9 weeks it's aaalllllll going down.
Ready or not.

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