Minor renovations for baby x

We're 5 weeks away from meeting baby x.  5 weeks doesn't sound like a lot, does it?  I'm not even sure what there is still left to do, other than maybe organizing.  We've got the room painted, thanks to my mother.

It took 4 tries to get the lighter grey right.  The first was practically white.  The store re-tinted it for us, but it was still too pale.  So we bought another gallon, with out the benefit of a paint chip from the darker color, and ended up with something too dark and too blue.  Then Mom took the darker color and dumped some into the lighter paint and *presto* the perfect light grey.

It's a tiny room, so tiny.  The crib was gifted from my brother's family.  We're going to paint it blue, unless Andrew convinces me to buy a different crib.  And do you see the little pile of yellow right in the middle of the room?  That is bedding from the little bassinet we got from Andrew's mom.  Baby Andy used to sleep in it, and soon baby x will, too.

Like I said, it needs some organization.

Here's the blue grey that didn't work for the baby's room transforming the guest bath.

Dad scraped the wall paper the first trip out, and Mom painted it, including the ever-present paneling that made up the cabinet.  I love the crisp contrast.  Just add a towel rod, and take out the glass doors on the bath, and we're set.

I'll never be a gardener

For years, I've tried to foster life in the form of tomato plants, zucchini, peas, greens.  Every year, I've been a failure.  It started with small plants on my patio.  When those failed to flourish, I blamed it on the shallow pots.
Then my land lady allowed me to use a small plot of land in the yard.  This should have been ideal, but again, things didn't progress.  The plants were a lot bigger, sure, but the fruit they produced were measly.  I blamed it on the poor soil (lots of clay, and limited direct light.
Then I married and moved to a new apartment with lots of light, and a small balcony.  Perfect!  Get some nice big pots to give everything lots of room, there's lots of light. I bought some carrot seeds, too, and cucumber seeds, all heirloom and gorgeous.   Everything will blossom and be beautiful and I'll have tomatoes aplenty.

Nope.

Now, we're in a home of our own, so I tried again.  Went with the pots again, thinking that moving in, cooking up a baby, and dealing with an imminent layoff was enough to deal with in one summer.  But this time, limited myself.  Zucchini and tomato.  From a seedling I bought at a local nursery.  What can go wrong?

I think I'm on the only person on the planet unable to grow a zucchini.

Look at this tiny thing.  Lots of flowers, no fruit.  Again.

I compare my garden with the one my mother grew in New Jersey growing up.  Stuff got huge!  We were picking beans everyday just to keep up.  We had to foist zucchini off on neighbors.  My parents would eat home grown tomatoes as big as your fist for dinner most nights.  And all i've got is one tiny tomato.

My sister in Ohio is similarly blessed.

I guess the gene skipped over me.

The Bump

I realized I haven't taken many pictures of myself during this special time.  Pregnancy has done a number on me, though all in all I know it's been an easy one. Many women have a harder time than I, but that doesn't mean much at midnight, then 2:30, then 5am when the heartburn hits.

My natural reticence for picture taking aside, there should be a few out there for posterity (namely, my posterity).  If there is a picture of my own mother pregnant with me, I would love to see it.  Modesty runs in the family, I guess.

Here I am, in all my pregnant glory, against the back drop of my weedy (it's way too hot and I'm way too tired at the end of the day to care much) back yard.