Some things I pondered today:
Catching up with your laundry is not necessarily a good thing. Keeping part of it in dirty bins, inside the washing machine, on the line or on top of drawers means you don't realise that you actually need more wardrobe/drawer space.
There are too many baby clothes in this world. In my search through one (!) bag out of three handed down baby clothes for first size neutral coloured babywear, I stopped myself at 28 sleepsuits. There are more. I didn't even look at anything pink or blue.
Considering the number of baby vests and sleepsuits, I wonder if I can get through the first 12 weeks without washing them at all.
Cubling's new chest of drawer may look bigger but somehow the same amount of clothes won't fit. It may have something to do with the first point.
I'm not sure why I get ever so slightly annoyed at my nightwalking 3 year old ghost when I'm awake with heartburn and forceful babykicks anyway.
Nothing beats being told by your toddler that you are the fairest of them all. Even if you know she's just discovered the concept of telling the untruth for advancing her personal causes. (quote: "Why are you up again?" - "coz I want to cuddle in your bed" "Can you please go back to your bed and cuddle your cuddly toys and let Mami sleep?" - "Oh, I need the toilet.")
How come I get panicky every evening about things not being as ready as they absolutely have to be because of those Braxton Hicks contractions and then forget all about the urgency in the morning, convinced I'll have another 42 week pregnancy?
How is it possible that in your first pregnancy all you think about is labour and giving birth and yet after experiencing it you are strangely efficient at living in denial it will ever happen to you again?
Could it be true my bump is smaller than it was a month ago? If that is so, why does none of maternity wear fit me anymore?
Where is the best place for the changing table/chest? Upstairs or downstairs?