Although I hate to admit this, I am … kind of a last-minute gal.  Never one to receive a term paper assignment and draft out a research calendar, dutifully lining 3 x 5 cards with advance notes, my skills shine brightest in a 2 a.m. library carrel, or on April 15, standing in line at the post office, taxes in hand.  Whatever I put my hands to, I give it my all, and I believe I know myself well enough to say with confidence that my last minute nature generally suits me, in that I work, and write, well under pressure.  When a deadline looms, I am not ignoring it as much as I am turning the problem over and over again in my mind, analyzing from it every angle before I begin the actual work involved.  I’m not saying this character trait is a virtue, but it likely explains why I was able to emerge from Georgia with a degree despite my attendance inadequacies, and why law schools exams came more easily for me than for others.  I rather like watching the 2nd hand tick towards a deadline, and was in fact a journalism major before switching my allegiances to the English department.

At any rate, in recent months, I’ve been befuddled with myself: I started working on It’ll’s nursery months before s/he is due to enter this beautiful world.  Months. Who am I?

Upon gazing at my belly, every person I share blood with or I’ve met in line at the grocery store has told me: your life will never be the same after It’ll arrives.  Yeah, yeah, yeah: got it already, thanks!  But do they really mean that life as I know it will change irrevocably even before It’ll’s birth?  Beyond the temporary dearth of wine, even?

Must be so.  What was once slated to become my private office in the warehome, and what had recently become a receptacle for anything-I-didn’t-know-where-to-put now looks like this:

Please ignore the curtain rod wedged haphazardly in the window, the lack of artwork on the walls, and the blue foamboard insulating the door against the -30 temperatures.  I didn’t say I had finished this project.

Various silver and pewter treasures – some were mine, some are It’ll’s.  Honeydew was so pleased to get visual confirmation that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth.

My old rocking horse.  Well, mine and my brothers’.

The most whimsically hilarious moose piggy bank ever, a gift from the gal who’s the closest thing I’ve got to a sister.  A basketful of handmade burp cloths.

A drawer in It’ll’s dresser, filled with 0-3 months “necessities.”  Calm down, Team Honeydew: there are Montana State onesies in the 3-6 months drawer!

My old cradle, filled with stuffed animals very old, and very new.

Wooden toys, old and new.  Do you remember Lincoln Logs?   Oh, how Brother Dear, Howard, and I loved them!

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An It’ll-sized rocking chair that was gifted to me upon my arrival, holding an old blanket of mine and the softest monkey and lion ever created, recent presents to It’ll.

The start to It’ll’s library – again, filled with books that my parents read to me, and new ones given to Honeydew and I to read to It’ll.

My rocking chair, and the sweetest quilt that my mom passed down to me.  Do you see the pouch sewn onto the mama duck, and the removable duckling inside?

Sleep Sheep!  I hear this baaaaaad boy is a godsend for 2011 babies: he plays soothing sounds like heartbeats and rainstorms.  And do you see that quilt behind him?

This gorgeous quilt was handmade for me by my darlin’ friend LA‘s equally darlin’ mama, using fabric that LA picked out.  She knows me quite well – warm, strong colors – squash yellow, kelly green, chocolate brown, burnt orange – with just a touch of honeybee.

And on the reverse, the quilt is finished in honeybee stitching.  Have y’all ever seen anything quite like it?  I plan to hang it on the wall and use it as the focal point of the nursery, and my inspiration for all future decorating.  If hanging it on the wall preserves it, I wonder if It’ll will one day unpack it when preparing his or her first nursery.  I wonder if he or she will do so in the 6th month of pregnancy, or the 9th.  I’m starting to wonder so much about what It’ll will be like.

All my love to Honeydew for coming home and helping me to get started on It’ll’s nursery.  And especially for reading the car seat manual, cover to cover, so I didn’t have to.

2011.  Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.