Allow Me To Get a Wonderful 80s Hair Band Song Stuck In Your Head

It's the final countdown.*  As of today, I am exactly one month from my official due date.

Let that one sink in for a minute, if you will.

Of course, if this child is anything like his older brother, he won't wait for official, but will instead make his entrance any time he damn well pleases.  In Cubby's case, that was almost two weeks before his actual due date.  So really, we're on red alert right now at all times.

I would not be sad if this child came early.  I only have two things left on my mental to-do list (in case you're interested: purging the current child's overflowing bookshelf downstairs and sending my sister-in-law the gifts for her coming baby, due a month after mine).  I even managed to clean out the enormous toy box yesterday, which, believe it or not, was actually full.  Of course, the reason I cleaned it out was because Cubby was searching for one particular small Lego piece that had fallen to the very bottom and so everything was thrown out anyway in search of the elusive helicopter blade piece.  So I figured I might as well just do the sorting and full-on clean-out.

Now there's some space for the deluge of toys sure to come for the next kid.  He will not be getting his own toy box, so this will just have to be a lesson in sharing and caring (or, let's be real, jealously guarding and fighting) between brothers.

In other baby news, there will be no photos of the new chicks in the near future, for one simple reason: I can't get close enough to them.  They range in a very large area with their mother, who sticks to brushy areas and is as flighty as . . . well, as a semi-wild hen with new chicks.  So photos are a no-go.  Sorry, duckies.  Them's the breaks.

* I really hope you watch that video, if only to marvel at the spectacular effect of male perms and eye makeup.  Men can be just as pretty as women, if only they're willing to work for it.