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Week 30: Decision dosey doe

Sunday I had a glorious, full day off. I slept in, had brunch with friends, and excitedly headed to Home Depot where I bought two cans of paint—one light green, one pale yellow. It was warm out, but there was a nice breeze. So, I sat outside on our back patio and began painting the drawers...

photoSunday I had a glorious, full day off. I slept in, had brunch with friends, and excitedly headed to Home Depot where I bought two cans of paint—one light green, one pale yellow. It was warm out, but there was a nice breeze. So, I sat outside on our back patio and began painting the drawers for baby girl’s dresser from gray to softer hues. It’s quiet moments like this that get you thinking, and my big thought was: I just can’t believe I’m already at 30 weeks.
All of the sudden, it has dawned on me that, though I feel I am mentally prepared for our girl, there are a lot of lose ends to tie up before her arrival. The nursery is half finished; I haven’t even started planning the shower, and what about her pediatrician? My doctor says I need that figured out, too. It wasn’t my intention to procrastinate, not at all, but life doesn’t slow down during pregnancy. Suddenly it’s near time.
Though I didn’t mean to put things off, I have realized something about myself while planning for baby. Disclaimer: I know that in the grand scheme of things what diapers, bottle brand or paint colors I use in the nursery are miniscule decisions. BUT, I have admittedly made a mountain out of a molehill each time I’ve needed to chose between option A or option B, only adding to the decision-making dosey doe. Yesterday while going on a Google binge to find the perfect stroller, I think I figured out the root of my worry: I’ve never planned the details of someone else’s life. Hello. I’ve never made a real decision, small or large, for anyone. Yes, I’ve offered my opinion on my friend’s relationships when asked, and given advice to my little brother about applying to his dream school—but this is different.
Other than those things outside of our control, Darrin and I are literally planning every aspect of a tiny life. This makes the little choices a bit harder, or so I’ve come to conclude.
Moms, I know you can back me up on this one. Planning for babe is one thing, but let’s add in all the extra advice and opinion flying in from all directions. Everyone wants to put in his or her two cents, and with the best intentions, of course! But I mean strangers who know nothing about your background or personal preferences, all of the sudden feel they know what is best, and offer a lot of “No, no, no, you must do it this way” language. This can be helpful, but it also makes things a bit cloudy. It can take its toll as you begin to make any small decision. Once you definitively say, yes, this works for me, someone has a retort, a reason, a story, and a way they know better. Always.
As I finished painting her drawers, I got a text from Darrin that simply said, “fire,” which is kitchen lingo for start the food … or in our case, start the Sloppy Joes. (Don’t judge.) Not only did this break me from my consuming thoughts of how will I manage, but it was a nice reminder that I’m not in it alone. Even if nothing goes as planned and not every detail is in place before her arrival, we’ll all survive—baby included.

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