Double the love. Double the trouble. Double the everything.
I've had people tell me that the jump from one to two wasn't that bad - since you're not out-numbered. They say the jump from 2 to 3 is worse.
I find fault in their logic and see them for just trying to make me feel better about the situation. God bless them, but it ain't working.
Cue panic attack.
We still aren't 100% sure how the sleeping situation is going to work out. I don't have a changing table set up outside Bimmer's room (so that ain't gonna work). I am stuffing clothes and burp cloths and blankets into Bimmer's dressers - again, not really the best arrangement. But what choice do I have? We have no nursery for Healey. And in hindsight, maybe that wasn't our best decision. I need to find room in a kitchen cabinet for bottles. I just realized I have no plan for where to put Healey's dirty clothes. Sometime in the next two weeks, I need to convince Puff to get the car seats out and cleaned and installed. We need to find the stroller in the attic. The swing and the Boppy and the pacifier clips... all need to find homes.
Perhaps I need a trip to Ikea to buy a piece of storage furniture? Perhaps Puff needs to contact an antique shop about selling his beloved spare dining room table that we don't need? Maybe I need to start interviewing contractors and figuring out what the first step is to get a home remodel started?
We are limping forward at this point (since I have been sick - more on that to come) but we will get there. I just need Puff to remain calm and focused and listen to my instructions. I just need him to be in full-on HELP mode.
Because before we know it, our lives are going to be flip turned upside down. In the best way imaginable. Or at least I'm saying that now. Remind me of that in a few weeks, K?