Yeah, so the New Hampshire trip went well – so well, in fact, that we might very well be putting in a bid today on the Perfect House.

Wowza!

We looked at 5 or 6 properties, and found one that I loved, but the ceilings felt low to my tall Boy, and which was located in the worst school district in NH.  He loved another one in the same school district that I didn’t care for.  But the school district thing was killing us.  We’re pretty education oriented here, but I didn’t want Thor’s only option to be a private boarding school.  Which it would have been, for high school at least, if we were to buy a house in this district.  Which, therefore, we obviously wouldn’t.

But then on Sunday, we went to see a house “in town” that we both were going in to view out of a sense of duty, more or less.  I thought he loved it, he thought I loved it.  We were, though, apparently neither of us that excited at the prospect.  The online photos looked little and dark and cramped.  So we went in with no expectations, whatsoever.

We fell in love.

It’s on an acre and a half, which means fruit trees and big gardens & chickens, but no goats or cows.  This is ok.  The fruit trees & garden were non-negotiable, the chickens were “I’d REALLY like to have chickies again” and the goats/cows were, “If we’re on some land I’ll want them, otherwise, not so much.”

It’s a good 2 hours closer to NYC (and the Boy’s daughters) than the other properties we looked at.  It’s in a border community that feeds the faculty at MIT & BU & Harvard.  Seriously, if you spit from the front porch, it’ll land in Massachusetts.  Nice school district, nice library, nice community.  LOTS of kids.

And the house.  Oh my, the house.

The house is actually in two parts.  There’s the original 1800s farm house, which has bigger-than-average rooms, but is your basic living space below/sleeping rooms above floor plan.  But then there’s the barn.  The barn which has been converted into an enormous 2-story 10,000-book library.  And office space.  With a reading room circled around a woodstove.  And absolutely gorgeous wood detailing everywhere.  And windows and light.  And, OMG it’s wonderful.  Our combined insane book collections aren’t going to come close to filling this place up.

And there’s room for the piano again.

And a Christmas tree.

It has a formal dining room big enough for the Boy’s ancient French farm table.

And a garage with enough room that our assorted hammers and electric drills will not have to live in a linen closet anymore.

And there will be guest rooms for anyone who wants to visit – with lots of floor space in the library for air mattresses if we run out of rooms with doors.

And there’s a pantry.  Two pantries, actually.

And a flowery back yard.

And a ‘wild’ back lot.  With apple trees.  And blueberries.  And pears.  And a big garden already fenced.

And a sun room.

And I’ll get to buy furniture with the boy.  And paint the whole house (because there ARE some truly weird paint jobs going on in some of the rooms).

And it’s only 30 miles from the NH coast.

And only 4 hours from NYC.

And only 1/2 hour to our friends’ in Manchester.

And I really really hope this works out, because I can SEE living in this house for the rest of my life.  I can see this being where my son puts down his roots.  I want this place to be OURS.  I want to move in there, like, tomorrow.

Keep your fingers crossed for us, folks.  I haven’t been this excited about a place to live – well, since forever.

**

In other exciting news, Baby Thor has been aptly nicknamed.  The kid is huge.  They’re estimating 5.5# already (32w, 4d) and his head & abdomen are in the 95th to 97th percentile range.  His arms & legs are around 50-60th percentile, so at least they’re catching up a bit.

Big baby, though.  Damned big head.

All is well, though, he’s still measuring in the range of normal, and one of my unspoken fears – autism – has been mostly laid to rest.  I was under the impression that autistic kids had big heads – and they do, but not at birth.  At birth they tend to be in the < 25th percentile range, but they catch up at 2-3 years, til they’re in the 70-80 range.  So a big-headed baby at birth is at lower statistical risk than average.

So that’s good.

And I’ll keep telling myself that all during active labor when I’m cursing the fact that I fell in love with a man whose father has to have his hats custom-made because his brain’s so big.

**

In other, other news, my last day of work is tomorrow.  I decided last week that I am done – no going back for an extra week or two after we return from the trip.  It’s too hot, I’m too uncomfortable, and frankly, my body’s working too hard to support this ginormous child.  I need to rest so I’m not exhausted when he shows up – Superstar OB still thinks he might be a couple of weeks early – and because I’m lucky enough to be in the position of not going back to work when my maternity leave is over, it’s not like I’m ‘using it up’ now.  So that’s a good thing, all around.  It will – unless Thor decides to be an Enrico instead of a Henry – give me a chance to work on his nursery, and buy things like diaper pails and strollers before he arrives.  It’ll also give me a chance to get calm & stay calm.

Which leads me to…

**

Italy!  We’re leaving on Friday.   Nellie is going to the Doggie-Spa on Thursday, at which point my feelings of overwhelming guilt will begin.  We’re going to spend Saturday/Sunday in Rome, seeking out cool things to see (anyone have any favorite spots they’d like to share?  I’m leaning toward the catacombs – nifty, underground {read: cool} – but am up for almost any suggestions.  Then we’ll drive to Tuscany where we’ll be staying in an old abbey for the next 2 weeks.  I intend to eat a lot of really good food, drink some excellent wine as per my OB’s instructions, and NOT give birth while there.  I might also go to see Florence & Siena, and a few other places, or I may just loll by the pool and coddle my largeness with much gelato and many iced drinks.

I’m beyond excited.  And delighted that my hips have recovered enough that I’m not going to be necessarily couch-ridden.  And happy too because the time will go by fast for having something fun going on every day, so maybe I won’t get too impatient for the really exciting thing.

Which is that….my kid could very well be born fullterm – anywhere from a month from now, to a month and a half from now.

My baby.  My enormous, gigantic, destined to be a brainy football player just like one of his Grandpas, doomed to grow up in a house full of books due to the extreme geekiness of the parents he’s stuck with, baby boy.

Wow.

So much is happening, and it’s all good.

The Boy just submitted a bid for The House.

Wow.

Wow.