The tension is building. Here we are entering the last month of this journey. Feels like the ninth inning. Still feels like a home game, though. In the way that if it gets hairy in the top of the inning, there’s always the bottom half. But you’re bringing in the closer anyway because you want to hold ’em to a goose egg. I’m hoping for an early Papelbon performance. Not 2010 Papelbon. When his stare from the mound shook batters into paralyzing fear. Those days are over.
For me, this means getting all the laundry done. Keeping the sink clear of dishes. Make sure that no trash is stacking up. Not making any home maintenance appointments. Not making any serious travel plans. Not making any binding commitments where I’ll be asked to lead, speak or perform an interpretive dance. You can still plan coffee with your homies, runs, softball games, but only events where you are sharing the load and are not the primary responsible party. That includes work. Starting to delegate as best I can in preparation for the final stretch. And, if there’s any indication that we’re close, we got our first cold front as we begin to transition into fall. Yesterday’s high was only 75. Still a little heat to come, but definitely took the edge off of the 95-degree scorch of West Texas.
I’ve started getting “the bag” ready. That bag that never leaves your sight. It’s contents include, but of course are not limited to: cute little towels, change of shirt, change of undies, shorts to sleep in, camera, camcorder, chargers for both, phone charger, iPod, headphones, tennis ball, Mr. Happy, snacks, toothbrush, toothpaste.
Got pre-registered for labor and delivery yesterday at the hospital so that we can fly in and have that baby whenever we’re ready without paperwork dragging us down. It’s officially go-time.
Never far away from my cell phone. It’s always on. Even if I get a call in the choir loft during the offertory. It’s never turned off. Of course, just when I say that, last night during Bruise Bros. softball, Jarvis asks me where my phone is. In the car, I remark. Got the baby seats installed. It was surprisingly easy and helps complete my list of things to do. They make it seem like it’s incredibly difficult to do. Kinda makes you wonder if you did it right whenever you’re done. Put that on the list of completely overstated processes and procedures. I blocked off an entire afternoon to get it done. Took about five minutes for both.
Found out yesterday that Erin’s blood pressure has been creeping. Will be monitoring it daily. If it doesn’t come down and we determine that it’s (here comes a righteous medical term) preclampsia, then they might need to induce which would bring Baby Ellison into our lives earlier than expected. The mothership is still taking it in stride, but honestly kills me watching her search endlessly for that comfort, that place to sleep. Always shifting. Wincing. It ain’t for the faint of heart. That’s for sure. Yesterday was the first appointment that I opted to not go to and happened to be the first that we didn’t come away with stellar doctor notes. Hate that I missed it now. Stupid to think that I should miss those. Just in the blitzkrieg of getting ready to take some time off, I thought it would be better to work through it. All of our appointments had gone without issue to this point. I trust Miles Davis and his staff, though.
Was watching the trailer for the new series “The Walking Dead” and saw that it started on Halloween. Thought, “Crap, we’ll have Ellison then.” First time I’ve thought that.
Ya’ll take care of your neighbor. Make sure to listen to plenty of the Meters. They’re just too bad.