Tomorrow was supposed to be my official return to work day. But things don't always, ok almost never work out the way I plan.
Take Gavin, for example. I planned on him settling into a nice 3 hour routine. But instead he wakes up from a good nap screaming to be fed. When I was pregnant, I promised myself that there was no way I would be induced. Yet, at 38 weeks, my baby's head was making itself very prominent and I found myself not being able to watch comfortable, unable to sleep, an begging to be induced if all looked good.
I think I'm one of the worst planners, no matter what I try. I can't help it. Some people stink at hand writing. Some people stink at telephone talking. Some people stink at directions. I happen to stink at all of those AND planning. Lucky me.
I liken all this planning that goes awry to God hearing my plans and saying "oh, you think so, do you??" I was thinking of giving away some of my maternity clothes, especially the ones like the scrubs because by the time we even start about having another (please, Lord, don't!) my hospital will be color coded or I wouldn't be working. But then I could imagine what would happen so I'm keeping them.
Bags are packed, milk and juice measured, clothes set out, alarms primed and we are ready for bed and it's not even 10pm! And I didn't even plan it!!