Ava’s Box

It's weird the little things in your day that make it sink in that you've got a baby on the way. The positive pregnancy test was one thing, but that first moment doesn't even come close to letting you realize the gravity of what's going on.

BabyCar's slightly (adorably) protruding belly is a good reminder, but still doesn't quite do the whole thing justice. I still get caught off guard every once in a while when I walk past that little belly. It takes some getting used to, and it will certainly get a lot bigger before it gets any smaller.

But what really did it for me happened earlier today. I was cleaning the house, which I do about every eleven hours because I have three dogs and a currently muddy backyard.

It was the usual routine:

Dog toys go over here.

Laundry goes over there.

BabyCar's crap goes in a pile on her desk.

Dishes go in the dishwasher.

More of BabyCar's crap goes in a new pile by her desk.

Mop floors.

BabyCar's charity stuff goes in another pile by her desk (she's so giving). Wait, no room. New pile. On the shelf.

Dust.

You get the idea.

Only this time, I kept finding stuff that had no home – free sample baby bottles, tiny cute outfit from my Mom, head start pack of diapers.

The soon-to-be nursery is our used-to-be office, so it is still full of officey junk and an absolute TON of books (from back when we used to read stuff).

Anyway, the nursery isn't quite baby ready, so we have a little box in the hallway, about half-full of Ava's few belongings.

It makes me smile like a jackass every time I look at it.

I love it when a plan comes together

We've been thinking about this whole "have a baby" thing for a long time now. Even before we were actually considering making it happen, the topic would come up from time to time.

Back before BabyCar was a BabyCar, we were shopping for a regular car.

I remember wandering around the parking lot at Subaru, kicking tires and looking for a replacement for BabyCar's small Toyota SUV.

Even then, before Ava was any more than a thought in the back of our (her) mind, the baby wheels were turning in BabyCar's head.

You know, this next car is probably the one we'll be driving when we have a baby. We'd better step up a size.

What? At that point, there were only two of us. Our Toyota sat five. And had a cargo area. And a roof rack.

I didn't know a lot about babies, but I had seen one before. It was my understanding that they weighed between five and eight pounds and were about a foot tall if they stretched out really straight.

So why was I test driving a seven passenger vehicle to accommodate a family member to be named later that would be approximately the size of a poorly inflated football?

Babies have stuff, I was told.

Stuff? I have stuff. Doesn't mean I feel the need to lug it around with me everywhere. What the hell was the baby going to have that needed a third row seat and industrial grade cargo netting? I always pictured an eighteen inch tall Diana Ross snapping her fingers and having matching designer luggage dragged around for her wherever she went.

Put the sippy cups up front! The stroller goes in the back! Put Daddy on the roof!

Anyway, about six or eight seven-passenger car payments later, we were ready to start filling the third row seat of our five star safety rated four wheel drive with two tons of stuff for our *one* baby.

(And I know that Subarus are all- and not 4-wheel drive, but I like having all the numbers in that sentence, so don't even start with me.)

With all of that said, I am now ready to admit that it is going to be really nice to have the big stupid car. We're having an Ava James, not a Diana Ross, but the more we start planning for the big day, the more I realize that babies do come with their share of gear.

And besides – the further this pregnancy comes along, the more often I'm getting kicked out of the bed in the dark hours of the morning. It will be nice to have that third row seating when I start spending 3 – 7 a.m. sleeping in the parking lot at work.

Ava James

That’s her name. We’re pretty sure.

We’ve had lots of names in mind, for girls and for boys, but they all pretty much went out the window in the last week or so. Our sweet girl is already developing her own little personality.

Her mom gets to enjoy it more than I do, but I guess that’s just part of the deal.

All of the pretty names we had come up with – MacKenzie, Cameron, Samantha – plus tons of others, were all great, but they just aren’t her.

She’s an Ava. James is a family name, but Ava is just who she is.

I can’t wait to meet Ava James. She’s already way cooler than I am.