OK, so these are definitely contractions. Finally called the docs at around 5:30am and they said to come in. Looks like this little one wants to get here a couple of days early. OF COURSE. On-call sister is on her way over to the house and as soon as she gets here we’re heading to the hospital. We’ll keep you posted (if you’re on facebook, check there for more prompt updates).
Under normal circumstances, I think I’m a fairly patient, even easygoing, person. However, as has been extremely well-documented on this blog, normal circumstances do not include the late stages of the third trimester. Which is why if I ever chance to meet Fate in a dark alley, that motherfucking bastard had better WATCH HIS STEP, because giving me a full-blown head cold this morning? NOT. COOL.
Watching – American Idol. Because my brain is just that fried.
Eating – What have you got? No, seriously. WHAT HAVE YOU GOT.
Reading – Bridge of Sighs by Richard Russo. Because my brain isn’t that fried. Although I can only manage about 10 pages before I fall asleep.
Wearing – only stretchy jersey-type fabrics. In XXL. Don’t judge.
Hearing – the harmonious sounds of my almost-three-year-old daughter making up nonsense songs, repeatedly requesting to play with my iPhone or watch a “bideo” on the computer, and running/dancing around the living room with just her diaper on.
Cursing – the fucking SNOWSTORM currently raging outside my windows. Also the fact that the high tomorrow is supposed to be, like, 5 degrees. At least it’s supposed to warm up again by the weekend.
Loving – that my long-suffering husband, when he comes home and I’m all pregnant-pissy-cannot-be-pleasant, instead of shooting me the evil eye gets on the phone and orders me my favorite take-out pasta and plays with the Hatchling to get her out of my hair.
One week to go, y’all. Which is good, because my ability to perambulate is decreasing by the hour. Think of a lame penguin crossed with an ungainly whale/african elephant mix and you’ll get some idea. I caught sight of a reflection of myself walking from my doctor’s appointment this morning and just about died of laughter. Things that would make this last week a lot more bearable:
1. A Lark.
2. A catheter/pee bag combo. SO SICK OF PEEING.
3. Some kind of weightless sleeping system. A flotation tank, maybe? One of those really expensive Tempur-pedic beds?
4. An elevator, or alternatively a one-story home.
5. Some kind of evolutionary development that eliminates all acid from my stomach. Temporarily.
6. A personal assistant/court jester/masseur/housekeeper combo to cater to my every need.
So, you know. Those should all be manageable, right? Someone get on that.
Oh, y’all. I am so bitchy and irritable. Today marks the two week countdown: assuming nothing happens early, we’ll be greeting kid 2.o sometime around 1pm two weeks from today. Which means I should be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, right? The pregnancy is almost over! I should be happy about that! And I would be, except the heartburn and the sleeplessness and the sheer inability to MOVE is making me a total crabass all the time. Everyone and everything is just getting on my last nerve, which makes me SO MUCH FUN to live with. Gah. I don’t even like living with myself right now. I’M GETTING ON MY OWN NERVES. What’s the cure for that, I’d like to know? So, anyway: blogging may be light, unless I can think of anything worthwhile to say that doesn’t involve being annoyed by everything.
You must have misheard me. I said “NO MORE viruses”, not “Please send me a recurrence of the stomach bug.” You have to LISTEN.
My kingdom for a main floor bathroom. Argh.
Look: I don’t know who dropped the ball on this one, but can we all agree that there should be a rule that if you’re pregnant – or at least more than, say, 5 months pregnant – you DO NOT get sick? That seems like a no brainer, right? Yeah. Tell that to the stomach bug that’s been going around and that got our entire family over the last three days. Fortunately it was fairly short-lived, but MAN. I have not slept so many hours in a row without being drugged in I can’t remember when. That makes the second crappy virus I’ve had in the third trimester. Can we just call it quits with the contagious diseases for the next couple of months?