Pants off.

Dear Thumper,

Hi. This is Mom.

I'm lying on my beed. Pants off. Heels off. Work clothes (necklace, maternity top, the lot) on top half only. And it's very un-me, but pretty cool. I kind of understand why Dad lies around in boxers so often...

Anyway, it's been one of those days. Long. Busy. Meeting-filled. Client-bedecked. And packed with Mom doing her unable-to-say-No routine and committing to things she shouldn't at 8.5 months preggers.

Typical.

In other news, last night was antenatal class #5 (I think), on 'Mothering the Mother'. And Dad proved how much he loves you, and me, but not stabbing the lecturer - who is sweet, knowledgable and well-intentioned but the worst speaker ever - with his trusty knife or going to hide in the car. Shame, man.

At one point, and I think he may have been serious, he threatened to slice off his own face. Eep.

All is going very well in terms of getting ready for your arrival. Your room finally looks like something: it's been painted; the desk, chair, ottomans, toybox, crib and lights are done; the rug is in; and the blind, bumper, compactum top and few other things are under construction. Dad's done a beautiful job on his end, and our other team members have delivered beautifully, mostly. It's all divinely exciting.

We're living in a bit of chaos downstairs, tho', as Flick's been here for two days - damp-proofing the effing lounge and dining room walls, so you don't get pleurisy - or whatever they got in the old days from rancid, rotting, wet, smelly walls that the previous incumbent concealed and didn't disclose.

But they finished today and hopefully by the time you're here and we're ready for visitors (read: maybe never), the house will look like something again, and be re-wired for the surround sound and alarm...

Yay! (Note: Mom hates contractors. Noise. And mess. They stress her out. A lot. Just so's you know.)

Tomorrow, if it doesn't rain, Speedy's coming to waterproof the roof - so it doesn't rain on your head :)

We really do our nesting in big ways, don't we? It goes way beyond re-packing cupboards and stuff.

Mom's starting to seriously look forward to maternity leave, even tho' everyone says it's hectic and scary and tiring and stressful and goes too quickly and leaves no time for anything, and even tho' Dad predicts I'll be itching to get back to work. I think the part I'm looking forward to is focusing on you: one person. One little 'client', so to speak, who deserves and gets all of my time, attention and energy. Not 20 large ones who drey my kop and must be managed, streamlined, and simultaneously accommodated.

It's possible I have absolutely no idea what I'm in for, and am on the verge of a nasty shock. Let's see.

I wish I could ask you how you are. Is it nice in there? Are you squashed? Are you excited to meet me and Dad? Do you like classical music, or does it irritate you? Does caffeine really make you hyper? When you make those funny alien moves, what on earth are you doing? Can you hear my thoughts and tell from them how much I love you, because I feel like a tit talking to my belly? Who do you look like?

Time will tell. I do hope you know that you're my Thumper, and I adore you - even tho' I don't know enough about motherhood to actually know what that means. Yet. But it'll be very cool to find out.

May you always feel deeply and profoundly loved.

Love you.

Mom x