Four things

So many things to say.

FIRST:

I'm (we're) in.

It took us all of Saturday and all of Sunday, and well into the wee hours of Monday morning, but everything has been moved into the new apartment. The Boy was incredible all weekend, lifting and pulling and carrying. He wouldn't let me do anything too straining, and the poor thing ran up and down six flights of stairs at least 20 times per day, carrying our stuff out the door and into the car we rented for the weekend.

On Sunday, Vegas called and asked if he could help out, and he stayed with us until five am on Monday morning, lifting monstrous boxes that I am astounded his little frame can hold up. What an angel. He was so helpful, we never could have done it without him. I was and still am completely overwhelmed by how much physical effort the boys were able to put into the move -- and how I didn't hear a peep of a complaint from either of them besides an occasional yawn once it started getting late. They were both wonderful, and I really don't know how to properly thank them for all they did. And, they maintained a smile throughout, which was probably the most amazing part. I felt so blessed.

The three of us crashed for a few hours at the end of the chaos on Sunday/Monday, and then The Boy had to go to work at 8 am. I can't believe his body was actually physically able to move after the beating it took. Even more, he put in a full work day. And then, last night, he came home and began tinkering with some of the stuff we bought at Ikea. So now I have a new little side table and a new desk. Things are moving along nicely.

However, because we had so few boxes, we did most of the moving in suitcases. That meant that we would fill a bag, come to the new house, dump it out, and then go back to refill it. So now the bedroom is literally just piles and piles of crap, all mixed together. It's about three-feet deep. So I have my work cut out for me this week.

SECOND:

The Boy did something very strange last week. We have been working on repainting and reparing his apartment so that he could move in there permanently. Upset over my choice to keep this baby, he decided he would be there for me financially, he would be there for the birth, he would be available should I need him, but that the two of us would live apart. I've never been happy with his choice, but I have learned to accept it. I figure I wouldn't want to live with someone who didn't want to be living with me, what's the point in fighting it? So I told him I would help with preparing his old apartment into somewhere liveable, and that he would be free to do as he chooses.

Last weekend, we bought carpets together. On Monday, I waited for them to be delivered. On Tuesday, he painted. On Wednesday, the two of us plastered and painted together. And on Thursday -- when we were supposed to put the finishing touches on the paint and then put down the carpets -- he destroyed his kitchen cupbards and opened up all the plumbing while I was still at work. In my absence, he decided he wants to redo the sinks and replace the hot water heater, as well as pull out a few wall fixtures. So of course, we can't make finishing touches or put down carpets until all of that is complete.

He was supposed to move in last weekend, but now I think it will take quite awhile -- at least a month, maybe more.

I think it's sort of odd, and handy, that three days before he was supposed to move into the place, he made it completely uninhabitable.

So he'll be here with me for a little while longer. I am happy about it. We've been getting along well and he's even been semi-participating in baby-related stuff. Last night, while he was working on the new furniture and I was deciding on a kitchen set-up, I felt so happy for the two of us to be in the new space, each of us doing his/her own thing but occasionally lending a hand to the other. A lot of the things that have been complicated or difficult over the last few months seemed to fade away, and it was just a pleasant first night in a new house. We even had a good time at Ikea over the weekend, which is incredible because I feel like if there is somewhere a couple is going to fight, it's Ikea. We got lost on the way but managed to keep our cool, we helped one another pick out stuff once in the store, and we somehow manoevered our way through the delivery process unscathed. I mentioned going back there for baby stuff in a little while and he said, "Ok, we'll see about that in a month or two..." without a moment's hesitation.

Whatever is happening to our couple, I am convinced this move was a good thing for both of us. Even if it means we'll eventually be living apart, it has thus far had nothing but positive results.

THIRD:

On Saturday morning we picked up some croissants for The Boy from the bakery, and my baker asked me if I was pregnant. The first person to do so! I don't even think it's all that visible, but hey. I was so shocked that we had a rather stilted conversation:

Baker: Is that a baby in there?
Me: Um.. oh, yeah! Yes; yes it is. Uh-huh.
B: When is it due.
Me: In June.
B: Will it be a Taurus or a Gemini?
Me: Um... well, doctors bet on Gemini but um... it's really not for sure, as it could come at the end of May and then it might be a Taurus.
B: Ahhh... congrats.

I later showed Kathypath exactly what I looked like with my jacket on - which is how I was at the baker's - and she said, "Wow, I would never have looked at you and just assumed you were pregnant, because that could just be poofing out. I mean, I might wonder, but I wouldn't ask unless I was sure. So that was pretty bold of the baker."

But still. That means people are going to start offering me seats on the bus soon.

FOURTH:

I should be finding out the sex today. Anybody wanna guess?