When I was a kid, a week was the best unit of measurement for highly anticipated events: a week until my birthday! A week until summer vacation starts! Less than a week until we head to Grandma and Grandpa’s. I think that’s still true. One might think that a day is even better, but in most cases, with only a day left, we suddenly find there are too many things that have to get done to make that last day of anticipation enjoyable. No, a week is the best.
And so now we are a week away from the baby’s arrival and I think the anticipation has risen to a requisite pitch. All day long I was thinking: one week from right now, he’ll be (one hour, four hours, ten hours) old. One week from now, Kelly will be feeding him, or I will be holding him. It’s better than the anticipation for any school holiday or summer vacation.
What I think will be very interesting is to see what I write about a week from now, see if I view things any differently than I thought I might. I will try to remember, a week from now, to link back to this entry as a kind of before/after comparison.
In the meantime, all I can think is: oh boy, oh boy, one week to go!