Preparing the ‘nest,’ aka breaking daddy’s back

Gather ’round kids, and let me tell you about “nesting.”

First of all, it is a real thing, not just some trumped up faux phenomenon. There is some sort of mystical power that takes over a pregnant woman’s brain and in the moments when she is not thinking about strange foods, it makes her think about things like organizing closets and ridding filing cabinets of five years worth of papers. (Actually, that one about the strange foods is a bit of a trumped up faux phenomenon, as far as I can tell.)

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“Swagger wagon” (No we’re not getting a minivan … yet)

The single greatest automobile marketing campaign of all-time just got even better.

Seriously, the ad campaign for the Toyota Sienna minivan is so far beyond the contenders that the runner-up can’t even read the “Wash Me” smudged in the dirt on the back window.

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Holidays, milestones and Boppy pillows, oh my!

First, before you ask, the answer is yes. I was smart enough to buy a Mothers Day card, and I happen to think I did an excellent job of picking one out. And I only spent 30-45 minutes standing in front of the greeting cards at Walmart, so that was pretty much a success.

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In labor (but not THAT kind of labor)

It was somewhere around the 17th trip up to the attic — ladder rungs digging into my shins, sweat dripping from my nose like a leaky faucet, arms feeling like goo — that I made the joke that I don’t want to hear about it when she goes into labor, because this is my labor.

Luckily, she knew it was a joke, which you might have deduced from the fact I am still alive to write this post.

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