stocking up

Storing piles of miscellany on every flat surface in sight isn't a new thing for me.  Don't believe me?  Ask my partner-in-crime.  In the past few months, though, the stacks of magazines, knitting patterns, and books-to-be-read have been replaced--or at least crowded--by mounds of baby stuff.  There are cloth diapers stacked on the craft table, folded onesies and a pre-loved Baby Bjorn sitting on top of the dresser.  It's pretty messy, I'll admit.

The thing is, the mess makes me feel better.  When I look around at all the clutter, I see tangible proof that we're preparing for this tiny person's arrival.  There are lots of big, scary things that are completely out of my control right now, but piles of stuff?  That I can accomplish.  It's incredibly reassuring.

So I like that I can't use the top shelf of my closet because of the hand-me-down car seat I've crammed there.  And I don't know how long I'll really enjoy looking at the giant cardboard box in the corner of our living room, but for now, I'm happy knowing that there's a brand-new crib* waiting inside.

Now, sooner or later, all this stuff is going to start to get to me.  It may shock my man to hear that even I have a breaking point.  I'm kind of counting on that late-third-trimester nesting instinct that all the books talk about to power me through a last-minute cleaning spree.

But not yet.

*More on that mini-dilemma some other time...

For anyone keeping track, The Joy of Cooking won out as Best Reference Volume for Baby Names.  With that in mind, we are seriously considering Croquette for a girl and Poach for a boy.  (I really like Aspic, too, but it just sounds so--I don't know--dated...)