The following post has been scheduled in advance and details in it may or may not be relevant at this time. 

We’ve been waiting for our second child to make his entrance into the world. With each day that passes, I get more anxious. 
After our 37 week check up at the doctor’s office, I was declared full term. Excited and nervous for what lies ahead, my doctor tells me everything is looking great and I may have a VBAC. 
VBAC, what I’ve been waiting to hear throughout my entire pregnancy. And now, she wants me to walk more. I guess doing house chores isn’t enough. 
I no longer take the boys for walks in the afternoons because Rocky gets too excited when I hold the leash. I don’t want Sebastian doing it in case Rocky runs into one of his old friends. 

And so we wait. 
But for me, waiting has become a month long thing. Out of precaution, I stopped driving. So whatever errands I have to do, I wait for Jeff to be available.
A Prisoner In My Own Home 
From food shopping to going to the local post office, everything has to be planned out. I no longer have the freedom to hop in the car with the boys and go about my day. 
Sometimes I join Jeff and Rocky at the park to help pass the time in between dropping off Sebastian at school and picking him up. But even that’s not enough. 
Once Sebastian gets home he takes his nap — at least on good days. Some afternoons I’ll join him, but most of the time I’m cleaning up from the morning/night before and prepping meals. 
The washer and dryer are constantly running — that’s a whole other story. And clothes from the day before are always waiting for me to fold. And once the little guy wakes up, he follows me to the room so we can fold together. Well, he doesn’t, but he likes to stay close to me as he plays with his toys and I fold the laundry. 
A routine — something I dread — has become of this waiting game. Chores still get done, and my boys still get plenty of mommy time. What more can I ask for? I guess routines are a good thing. 

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