Scattered, Smothered, and Covered

I’m scattered today.  Forgive me, in advance.  It could be the magenta sweater – it tends to bring out the scatter in me.

Mostly, I’m wishing the whole world would stop spinning for just one minute.  I’d like to have more than one day to my weekends.  I’d like to see friends without having to actually SEE friends.  I’d like for lawyers to work over email and on the phone exclusively, instead of in person a million miles away and via actual mail.  I’d like to sit still without feeling like I’m wasting precious time NOT doing something that needs to be done, or worrying about whether or not my swollen feet are elevated enough.  I’d like to be able to sleep in as long as possible on the few days in which I find a comfortable sleeping position.  I’d like to know if it was a boy or a girl so that we can finally decide on a name.  I’d like to not have to drink so much water (see above, swollen), since I’d like to spend less time in the restroom.  I’d like to stop craving popsicles.  I’d like to wear some different pants, some different shirts, and shoes with laces.

I told someone the other day that I didn’t know what I was more excited about, having a baby or not being pregnant anymore.  It’s not like this is the most horrific thing ever, the pregnancy.  It’s been, knock-on-wood, relatively easy, healthy, and something I would even consider doing again.  Redneck childbirthin’ almost has me brainwashed convinced, even, that I could labor on through when the time comes, sans medical interference.  HeHeHeWhoooo.  Almost, I said.  I’m not terribly uncomfortable, physical-wise, despite that look on your face when you see my ankles on a hot day.  Each day that passes, I walk and move slower and slower.  My wife informed me this morning that, at my current pace, we will need to wake up an hour earlier each day to get to work on time.

I’m simply ready to be done with the preparations, and get on with the show.  The lady I work with was 40 weeks yesterday, and is spending today doing everything she can think of to throw herself into labor.  Vegas, sohelpmegod, if you are still in there at 40 weeks and one day, you’re gonna come out already grounded.

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Posted on May 10, 2010, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Amen to that sister!

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