On Sunday we were all set to put up the crib. We've had it in the box for a while now, and Sunday was the agreed day to assemble the thing, since this project has been burning on my heart for weeks now.

But then I started to second guess the crib we got. It's adorable with a curved back, but suddenly I wasn't so sure I wanted a curved back. Maybe I wanted a flat back. You know, how would pictures look hung over a curved back. Wouldn't the lines be nicer if it were a flat back? I hemmed and hawed over such life-changing decisions aloud to Rory and he said he really didn't care. He was fine either way. I continued to lay out my case to him some more and then Rory grabbed the electric hedge trimmer and went in the backyard and took out three bushes. When I went out to check on him an hour later, he was breaking a sweat, digging the roots up with a shovel and had filled five yard bags with bush parts from all over the backyard.

I had a conversation with a Groves family friend, Joanne, at church on Sunday all about how crazy it is to live with raging hormones. I don't usually deal with such mood swings and extreme indecisiveness in my not-pregnant state, and so I am very aware of how crazy-short my fuse is, and how crazy-unpredictable my actions are in this last month of pregnancy.

Joanne told me there is a reason they call it labor and delivery.

Ah, yes, deliverance. That surely must be Rory's daily prayer: ...and deliver me from this crazy lady. For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory...

In the end, we still have the crib I like the best nicely boxed in the nursery. I missed my window to get the thing built on Sunday. But on the other hand, we also have a nicely manicured back yard. Give the boy one more month with me, and we may not have a single bush left back there.


[not the] Best Blog Ever said...

I'm sure Rory and Anthony will be able to commiserate on Saturday over chili. During my pregnancy, I was a worried mess of nerves and extremely anxious over trite or random things - oh, not all the time; usually just when I was overtired or such - but often enough that I'm sure he was looking forward to the day Park was born for more reasons than one. :)

Oh, these lovely things called hormones!

Bht look on the bright side: they enable us to produce beautiful children. And so they are a blessing in disguise...

Anonymous said...

This is hilarious. Poor Rory. He'll be fine though. He's gotta serve his time too :)
I had a mini panic attack realizing that I didn't know how to get in contact you and then I remembered your blog. I made the most adorable topsy turvey cake for Evalyn's birthday on Sunday and I wanted to share all of my creativity with you and missed not having you in the next office down :( Just wondering how you are and what you're up to. Miss you lots! You can always email me.

Becca Groves said...

Beth, it's so funny you say this because I ended up taking a 2 hour nap that afternoon and then was able to come to my senses after I woke up.

And Gina! Hot dang! Love hearing from you. Lots and lots to catch up on...I'll drop you a line.