fucking yellow

So. We are now on day 18 in the countdown to Operation: Fetal Freedom. It's a little weird to have the kid's birthday all picked out already. There are days when I wish I knew whether it is a boy or a girl so that I can go on a sex-specific shopping spree. The yellow, it is not doing it for me anymore. So, so much small swank out there in the world, and I am stuck with the yellow. Which is a lovely colour, if you are not forced into it.
Before Peanut and Bean were born, we were sooooo not prepared. Peanut came early and we had just (JUST) moved into a new house before Bean came and we hadn't really even started unpacking. While I was in the hospital my mom unpacked all my clothes and when I came home I was surprised to find my socks in my closet, nestled in the bathroom waste-basket. Needless to say, they're still there. It is a lovely basket. So this time, we have a painted nursery with a real-life crib, and when I show excitement over said crib, Papa-san loves to point out that the child will probably never actually see the inside of it. Peanut and Bean hated the crib. But here we go again. With a crib. And the hope that it will be slept in.