15 Down, Only [gulp] 25 to Go...

I have astonished myself with my own blog post title today. While neither catchy nor cute, I can't change it now. It's the source of an epiphany of sorts. 15 weeks in, and only 25 weeks to go... and we are nowhere closer to prepared to be parental units than we were a year ago. Or at least it feels that way.

I feel like a lazy bum, to be honest. And an unfashionable one at that. I have basically nothing to wear, and maternity style is not exactly what I had hoped it would be. I pictured cute dresses and cardigans and leggings and jeans and fitted t-shirts to show off a cute belly (which must still be hiding under this flabby excuse for a baby bump!) So far no clothes look as good as I thought they might. I keep saying to myself, "Once summer gets here, and I can get out and play and swim, I'll look and feel better." And perhaps that's true... but the 85 degree heat and sun of last February that blessed us with its presence on arrive-in-houston-and-move-in-to-a-third-floor-apartment-without-the-help-of-the-broken-elevator day is nowhere to be found. So I teeter between nausea and headache and constipation on the couch, doing laundry, rearranging closets and looking online... instead of out in the open where I should be exercising, fishing and just enjoying God's green earth. Stir crazy much?

So, I have decided that this weekend, I am going to leave the apartment for more than just grocery shopping, no matter what. It's supposed to be gorgeous and 70ish all weekend, so I am hoping to walk over to the park, feed the ducks and take a nice, long walk. Saturday, I am going to go down to the Heights and make a day of getting to know this as-of-yet unresearched section of our city. It will probably be my favorite place in Houston thus far (as the fishing all takes place in Galveston, technically.) I am ashamed I haven't checked it out yet. Then Sunday, I am going to get serious about the state of our future mini roomie's digs. Task numero uno is to find a place for everything else that is currently in the room. This means organizing the garage. Luckily, we don't have any real storage in there yet, so it's just a matter of convincing husband to help me move some heavy stuff downstairs and arranging it in a way that is conducive to my OCD organizing demons.

I can do this. I know I can. It's time for energy to return and the outdoors and I to reconnect. Before I go freaking insane.