A friend recently emailed to ask if everything was going OK, since the blog has been so hopelessly vacant for long stretches this spring. I told her we are fine, just doing our normal stuff and moving through a list of pre-baby house preparation projects that would make anyone forced to read about them here weep with boredom. But when you look at all those odds and ends in a lump, they are enough that I could get one exceedingly mundane blog post out of them. So get your extra-caffeinated coffee and I'll tell you what we've been doing. Seriously, put a pillow on the table in front of you so you don't get a knot on your head if you pass out from the tedium.

First off, I've been being pregnant and getting bigger and bigger by the minute. This week, Dan went on a three-day business trip, and last night when he got home, he looked at my stomach and said "Wow. He got a lot bigger just while I was gone." I didn't throw anything at him, because he's just speaking the truth, and he's not the only one. Throughout the pregnancy, Kate has been confused about where exactly Baby Isaac is, and most times when we ask her, she'll say that he's inside her tummy. On Sunday morning, Dan was getting Kate ready for church, and when she took her shirt off, she leaned back, put her hands on her stomach and said "Wow! This baby getting BIG!" which is a phrase she probably hears me say about 10 times a day at this point. Kate does sometimes have quite a little pot belly, but these days I've got her beat. Here's a photo of Isaac and I at almost 37 weeks:

I'm due on April 25, but remembering the mental agony of being six days post-dates with Kate, I've decided to just tell myself that this baby isn't coming until May 1. In a few days I could healthily and happily have baby Isaac any time, but I don't believe any such thing will be happening. My mom is coming on April 19, at which point I am sure to be so enormous that I'll be thankful for the help even if we don't have a new baby. He seems to be doing great, based on the number of rib-cracking kicks he is delivering to my insides on a daily basis. So everything is status quo there.

Last weekend a sweet friend hosted a church baby shower for me, and now we have this amazing collection of little boy clothes that are so tiny that they freak me out. I know I've forgotten how little newborns are, but looking at those clothes reminds me again. We were also given a bunch of diapers and then in my closet spelunking adventures I found this whole stash of infant diapers that we must have had leftover from when Kate was born. I had forgotten all about them, and it is no exaggeration to say that at this point in my life, rediscovering them was like finding money hidden in a closet, or maybe even more exciting. Seriously. Don't laugh at me. So we have diapers, clothes and a bassinet, which I guess means we're ready to have a baby. Funny how this time around I know that's all we really need.

Speaking of the diapers, here is a photo of the diaper centerpiece my friend and shower hostess Cora made. It's a little airplane. How cute is that?

Meanwhile I am doing what I do while pregnant: Nesting. I think that a lot of women go through an intense period of this at the very end of a pregnancy, but since I am kind of a neat freak by nature, I take it to a whole new level and nest for months. No joke. Those hormones in charge of my brain start making me see all the dirt! And clutter! In my house! So since about January I have been working through a list of projects, some big and some small, that I'll just feel better having accomplished given that they aren't likely to get done again for about two years. I've cleaned appliances, reorganized our closets and drawers, vacuumed under furniture,washed curtains, steam-cleaned carpet, flipped mattresses and gathered up so much stuff to give away that a local charity will be making a special trip to my house next week to pick it all up. I say that "I" have done all of these things, but I should give major credit to Dan, who has had to do a lot of heavy lifting, since I can't exactly be hoisting mattresses safely at this point in my life. He is being a really good sport about all the house projects considering that if it were up to him, the question wouldn't be "When should we deep-clean the kitchen?" so much as "Why would one ever need to deep-clean a kitchen?"

And speaking of our kitchen, last week we checked off one of the last major projects in our always-in-process revamp of our kitchen. When we bought this house, one of the things we fell in love with was the kitchen, because it is so big and has such a huge dining area and great light and tall ceilings. Unfortunately, when whomever built this house was considering how best to finish the kitchen, they apparently latched on to an interior decorating theme called "Salvage appliances and fixtures from a local junkyard." This is the only explanation I can think of for the cheapness. If you don't believe me, please remember that this is the same room where we had to rip carpet up out of a DINING AREA. Carpet. The other half of the room was finished in a linoleum so cheap it was peeling and broken even though the house was just over five years old when we bought it, and all the appliances were on their last legs. Over four years, we've replaced the stove, put in an over-range microwave, new dishwasher and new flooring. But the one remaining vestige of the crapiness that was this kitchen's original state was our sink.

I want to make it clear that I understand that it is a privilege to live in a part of the world where I can have such petty concerns as what kind of kitchen sink I have attached to the indoor plumbing connected to a reliable, clean water supply. I take these things for granted perpetually, but I love our house and I am thankful to have it, so it's not as if every day that we have lived in this house I have spent in a state of discontent over a kitchen sink. No, not every day. Just any time we needed to wash a really big pot. Then it was all I could do not to curse whoever put this sink in. It was, at best, 6 inches deep, with a faucet so short that in order to rinse anything of any size, you had to wedge the object in between the sink wall and the faucet and then rotate it at all these bizarre angles and just hope that water would flow over all the surfaces and wash off the soap. There wasn't even a sprayer to help you out with that whole process. Here is a photo of the horror:

Given that this project involved plumbing, we did not attempt to pretend that we were up to doing the job ourselves and instead hired a contractor friend who did an excellent job. Here is the new sink, in all its deep cast-iron glory. This thing makes me want to cook something in my biggest, baddest gumbo pot just so I can wash it. I was expressing this to my sister-in-law Kelly when we were talking on Skype, and her response was "Man, you guys are really getting old." So true, Kelly. But don't say that while you stand next to me at my new sink or I will soak you with my TOTALLY COOL HIGH-POWER SPRAYER. Take that!

At some point, I mentioned in passing to Kate that one thing we could do with a new sink is give Baby Isaac a bath in it when he's big enough to sit up. Somehow in her mind this has translated into the whole purpose of the sink being to give Isaac a bath and every time she notices it, she says "Our new sink! Give Isaac a bath!" She's also been making Isaac lots of pictures and cards, which is pretty cute.

So there you have it. I'm still pregnant and driving everyone crazy with my cleaning. Dan is putting up with me as best he can, and Kate is leading the busy life of a two-year-old. Like I said, we're pretty boring. But this is our life, or at least it will be for the next few weeks. Then we get into that limbo existence known as Newborn Land where life as you know it disappears into epic chaos. We're getting ready for that, and every new pregnancy discomfort and twinge makes me more and more ready, but we're also enjoying this. Blessed, boring normalcy. I will miss it.

Coming soon: Guess the baby's birthday and some hilarious Kate video.