Now is the time for the frenzy of baby preparations. Or at least it should be.
So many of my gifted and assiduous girlfriends find out they are preggo and then in a matter of mere days, the nursery is impeccably appointed, buzzing with readiness for the bundle of joy. The entire project, start-to-finish, is documented via Facebook for all to ga-ga- over.
Needless to say, I do not have any cute nursery photographs to show because, er, the nursery isn't READY yet. This would be because I am a a procrastinator. Every last friend I have is nodding their head. Really, I am a "crock pot" kind of gal. That is, I like to mull over a project or assignment or event for, say, months on end. It's not like I'm not working on it in my brain. I am. But for my marvelous, no complaints, get-it-done-in-the-blink-of-an-eye Husbandator, it's probably frustrating.
I've heard it said that procrastinators tend to be perfectionists - which, on the surface at least, doesn't make any sense at all, but upon further reflection seems quite logical. We want every detail to be so perfect that we have a difficult time "self-starting" (to use a popular term.) See, I'm not so bad. Or maybe I'm twice as bad now. Go figure.
So here is my once-glorious closet that is now deserted - and will soon become BBD's domain. Yes, I said closet. Please do not report us to DHR. This closet has it's own zip code. We could have converted the guest room into a nursery, but what is the point of having a precious baby boy if not to have family and friends come to stay to visit him?