17 days.

So, today we broke down and took out some of the baby things for Baby J. (between Eleanor's screaming fits, which were many). We didn't wash them yet, but we took them apart and put the washables in the laundry room ready to go. The frames went to the front of our storage room. Barely even stored. Because we only have to wait 17 days to use them.

I am so excited to meet Baby J. - I am getting out of control excited. (And don't forget anxious, because I am a wreck inside, even if I don't show it. This has been pretty easy, as I've been really pretty withdrawn lately.) But, as soon as I meet Baby J., I am excited for a rendezvous with my pal, percocet. I mean, I am not sure if I've made this clear, but I LOVE *prescription pain relievers. I don't have any shame about it. Bill and I joke that I like to take a nibble of a percocet for any, even minimal, pain. And, it's totally true. I take a tiny (I am a very moderate self-medicater) little bite for a headache, toothache, sore throat, etc. (when I am not pregnant, of course). I am a lucky mama to have help in my first few days, and a plentitude of percs. I will be moving the little TV (that normally lives in Bill's shop) and my DVD player upstairs, taking percs, and loving on Baby J. for quite a few days following her birth. Sweet sweetness. (There will also be Disney movies and drinkable yogurts for Miss Eleanor, should she deign to present herself.)

Come on Baby J. - Mommy wants a perc'd out vacation with you! We can be delirious together.

*It is worth clarifying that I feel justified in this by how totally lame I am. I don't eat meat, eggs, or dairy. I haven't had alcohol in almost five years. I don't stay up late. In fact, I don't dance, sing in public, or wear skirts above the knee. All because I am lame. So, lame or not, I love percocet. Deal with it.