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The other day, while Nate and I were competing for post-teeth-brushing spitting space at the sink, he asked me if I felt ready for the baby--emotionally ready. I said something like, "who's ever ready?!" through a mouthful of Colgate. But I've been thinking about it, and I may just be getting there.

To the untrained eye, it may appear that I'm super-focussed on only the tangible getting-ready part of baby P's arrival, but that's not the case. When I wash a stack of onsies in special baby-ready detergent, or have Nate slide the rocker into just the right spot, or put batteries in the baby bouncy seat, I am getting ready mentally. Every day I walk into the nursery and I try and picture what our lives will be like when the once neglected spare room becomes the hub of our lives. The closer the room gets to being done, the more ready I feel. I can now look in that room and say: We are ready for you. I hope you like it here.

I think even Jake is starting to feel that way. When he wants to show Nate and I love, he leaves his favorite ratty looking orange mouse for us. It's often found on our bed when he's ready to go to sleep. When we're downstairs watching TV, Jake will bat it down the steps so we can see it.

Today, the hunk of orange love was dead center of the nursery.
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