This is what my version of nesting looks like...

You are looking at about 8 weeks worth of dinners in my freezer. With no job and no more gym, I think my nesting instinct has kicked in. The doctor ordered me to hang up my sneakers last week, although I have to say that I am pretty proud of myself for pumping iron until 37 weeks. I am relieved, however, that I no longer have to endure stares and comments from the elderly gym population (for example, one lady told me I was giving my baby motion sickness while I was on the elliptical). Anyway, I now fill my free time in the kitchen. Gus does not seem to mind. I know life will dramatically change once Baby Mak arrives, but one thing is certain: we will not starve.

My Well Mannered Boy

We still have to work on his "Yes, Ma'am's" and "No, Sir's", but my child has so far demonstrated that he is a well mannered, Southern gentleman who completes his chores on time. He had two assignments to complete by his full-term date: (1) put your head down and (2) "drop." Well, we went to the doctor this week and confirmed that Baby Mak's head is down and Baby Mak's body has dropped (making it much easier for Mama to breathe, but a bit harder to waddle walk).

Now he just better come out sooner rather than later. If he waits too long, he better be prepared for a steady diet of labor-inducing eggplant parmesan and hot wings!

Now all we need is a baby...and some initials.

We are finally done* with the nursery! It was certainly a labor of love. There were the many handyman projects that had Gus spending his weekends with hammers, screws, nails, drills... but I had to operate the stud finder since he said it would overheat and explode if he touched it (get it, he's just that studly - yeah I know, but someone has to laugh at his jokes). I put Mama and Michael to work, too. I think they could start a custom window treatment/sewing/carpentry shop after all their help! Lastly, there were the many hours I put in working at our local Pottery Barn so I could take advantage of the furniture discount (praise discounts!).

With the nursery done and our hospital bags packed, Baby Mak is officially allowed to come early, especially considering that big babies run in my family. Boy better not get too comfy in there and pack on the pounds. Ouch.

*Okay, it's not totally done. That large, empty wall space above the crib is the perfect spot to hang Baby Mak's initials. Of course, we can't hang initials until we decide on a name, so that will just have to wait. That bugs the planner in me, but I'll deal with it.

Days of Our Lives

14 weeks. 98 days. It's not really a long period of time, but it can certainly make a difference when you're pregnant.


If you glance below at the "Eviction Ticker," you will see that today is my "35/35" day; 35 weeks have passed, and I have 35 days to go. Just over one little month. If the past 35 weeks are any indication, one month will be here tomorrow. On that note, it's time to get back to my two page to-do list...

Traditions

I guess you could say I like traditions, big and small. I like everything from the history of long-standing family traditions to the regularity of eating the same thing for breakfast every morning. What can I say...it gives me less to think about. I don't have to make as many decisions. The impending arrival of Baby Mak, however, has been accompanied by a whole lot of decision making. Lots to do with not a whole lotta time.

But some things, I am happy to say, have been decided for me by tradition. Here are a few...


The Middle Name


Alexander Nicholaos, Augustus Nicholaos, Christopher Nicholaos, and Joseph Nicholaos... notice a theme? Makris tradition says that each son is given the father's first name as his middle name. So while we aren't quite sure of Baby Mak's first name, his middle name has been known for as long as his father has been around... and if Baby Mak has a brother, Brother Mak will also have the middle name Augustus. It may sound a bit repetitive, but it's a tradition, and so I kinda love it.


The Cornicello


In Italian families, mothers will often pin a small gold horn, the Cornicello, to a baby's diaper. The Cornicello protects against the "Evil Eye." Legend has it that the Evil Eye harms nursing mothers and their babies. In fact, the Evil Eye is so powerful that sometimes the Cornicello is not enough, so another line of defense is necessary: the Mano Cornuta. The Mano Cornuta is a hand gesture (gang sign?) that is made by extending only the pinkie and index finger like a pair of horns; the horns should be pointed down.

I know what you're thinking. No, I am not a wiccan. And no, I do not stir a large cauldron of boiling water while chanting, "eye of newt, and toe of frog, wool of bat, and tongue of dog!" The Cornicello is a tradition that my Longo Grandparents remember from the "Old Country." Baby Mak was given his Cornicello this Christmas by my Grandma and Papa Longo. It's already packed in my hospital bag so he can wear it home to proudly honor my grandparents.

Evil Eye ---- you've been warned!


The Coming Home Outfit


Many Mama's-to-be choose special outfits for their babies to wear home from the hospital. I was not enthusiastic about spending money on a newborn outfit that Baby Mak would only wear once and probably spit up on. Thankfully, tradition came to the rescue. My Mama gave us the "coming home" outfit that my brother, Jonathan, wore as a newborn. My Grandma Longo gave him that outfit. It is a beautiful baby blue, eyelet lace lined onesie.

And it's made by Dior. That's right. I said it. Dior. I don't own any Dior, but Baby Mak does. I really hope it's like the Oscars when we leave the hospital; I need at least one nurse to ask, "Who are you wearing?" I need to be able to say, "Oh, he's wearing Vintage Dior. Please. No pictures."

But beyond the fancy designer label, the significance of wearing home the outfit that my brother wore is far more meaningful. I know he will be with us that day and I will be so proud to tell my son one day all about his Uncle Jonathan.

My Pineapple Baby

I receive weekly emails from a popular baby website that tell me what's going on with Baby Mak's development. The emails also tell me his size in relation to a fruit. Well, this week he is a pineapple...and just as expected when mentioning any kind of food to a pregnant chick, I immediately became hungry for this delicious, tropical fruit. After a craving-fueled grocery shopping trip, I just had to take a picture with my pineapple baby before I cut it up and chowed down. Now the only question that remains is what fruit could possibly come after a pineapple? I can't handle a watermelon. My ribs would like to request shorter fruits from here on out.

Adventures in Baby Class

My husband wins the award for "Class Clown" of Baby Class. The first of three baby classes that we sat through last weekend proved to be a giant waste of time, so he did all that he could to get through it as painlessly as possible. When the class description included "hands-on activities with plastic baby dolls," I should have known that his boredom would translate into mischief...

Because mom might be groggy from pain meds and generally tired, the instructor explained that the dads may have to help position the baby for nursing in the hospital. Bored, Gus decided that he would entertain himself. As he positioned his plastic baby doll for nursing, he began to lift up his shirt. The instructor actually had to tell him, "No, that's just for mom's to do." He replied, "Oh, good thing I came to class." The class laughed. The instructor didn't.

Then the instructor showed us how to bottle feed a baby. She placed the doll on its side on her lap and explained how most babies turn their heads to the side to reach the bottle. Gus decided to turn the doll's head all the way around -- exorcist style. Then he raised his hand, held up his possessed doll and asked, "Should we be concerned if our baby's head turns all the way around? How should we handle that?" The class laughed. The instructor didn't. The guy next to me then asked me if my name was "Rosemary."

More laughs are on the way this Saturday. We have an EIGHT hour Childbirth Prep Class to sit through. And there will not be any plastic baby dolls to distract us.