<p><a href="http://www.everydaytreats.com/wp-content/uploads/6a00d8341db04e53ef0120a5a9ad4a970c-pi.jpg" style="float: left;"><img alt="IMG_0329" class="at-xid-6a00d8341db04e53ef0120a5a9ad4a970c  at-xid-6a00d8341db04e53ef0120a93cdf98970b" src="http://www.everydaytreats.com/wp-content/uploads/6a00d8341db04e53ef0120a93cdf98970b-pi.jpg" style="margin: 0px 5px 5px 0px;" title="IMG_0329" /></a> Thing is, when I started writing on the internet I made a conscious decision to make this site about myself and nobody else. I started writing online when I found myself home with my first baby, not quite alone but needing an outlet that would leave more of a permanent record than a phone call or conversation. So I made it about me. Sure, I mention other people -- especially my children -- when it&#39;s relevant, it&#39;s not like I live in a vacuum, but I choose to tell MY stories. Maybe it&#39;s selfish, maybe it&#39;s not authentic. I keep reading that a true artist is supposed to mine the lives of the people in their life, but in this place? I choose not to. </p><p>I&#39;m 100% fine with that. </p><p>Problem is, sometimes I have no stories to tell. The past few weeks are a perfect example of that. I&#39;ve been majorly (and I mean MAJORLY) pregnant, but I don&#39;t have any of the first time mom anxieties to share with you. This is my third pregnancy after all. It&#39;s not as much fun to tell you about rearranging the same baby boy clothes I&#39;ve seen twice before. I guess we could buy new clothes, but really what&#39;s the point? I know better by now. </p><p>Nesting has also been different this time around. My house is pretty clean (thank goodness), so there are no middle-of-the-night bathroom tile scrubbing episodes to share. The nursery is ready, having just been vacated last week (when my two year-old figured out how to do a flip out of the crib into the extra bed in the nursery -- once my heart stopped palpitating wildly I moved on to training him to sleep in his big boy bed, which is no small feat, but something I&#39;m too tired to talk about right now.) I&#39;d wash the sheets, but the baby will be in a bassinet in our room for the first few weeks anyways, so what&#39;s the rush?</p><p>The one thing that you could call &quot;nesting&quot; is that once my mom arrived to hang out with us and help us with the baby, I was finally able to tackle all the yard work that has been killing me all summer. I took a huge pair of clippers to our yew hedge, and with the help of my mom trimmed those suckers down. That felt good. Well, it felt good spiritually, but physically it killed my back. Unfortunately, it did nothing to accelerate labor. </p><p>Sigh.</p><p><em>(This image is from June. The belly is at least twice as big by now. And growing.)</em></p>
