Wednesday, February 27, 2008


So am currently a week away from Scheduled Baby Day - went to the OB today and she said nothing is happening, so that's good. If I have to have another C-section, I'd prefer it to be scheduled and not in the middle of the night.

I have been cutting back my usual schedule (which I fully admit is manic and freakish - plenty of people stay at home with their kids almost all week long..I get all neurotic if we spend one whole day in the house, and feel I MUST get him outside, even if it just to go for a walk.) but is still pretty strenuous, considering the size of this belly. I truly look like I have strapped a watermelon to my regular body, and while people say, "oh, you look FABULOUS, it's all in your belly.." I feel like a weeble that could tip over at any moment. Not to mention the icy fear of what my belly will look like after this. I'm going to be tucking that mother into my pants, for sure.

Anyway, I am still walking the boy to his preschool program, halfway across town, pushing 50+ pounds of stroller+kid+bag, but now when I get there I'm pretty much spent, and have to spend the majority of the class sitting there on the mommy bench. Or as I prefer to call it these days, the sleeping nanny bench, because for some inexplicable reason FOUR nannies, none of whom are past middle aged, plant themselves on said bench and NAP for the entire duration of the class. Which I suppose is ok, since their charges are occupied, but dude. Why do they need a nap at 9am? Plus, I have to wake them so I can sit my fat ass down and stop the Braxton Hicks so I don't have an anxiety attack that I'm going into labor right there at preschool.

Problem with this is that I have THINGS to do before the baby comes, important THINGS like get my eyebrows waxed and go pick up a thin robe for the hospital and make sure I have enough paper towels because god forbid my mother be here for four days without enough paper towels. Forget the fact that she can buy paper towels at four places within a two block radius of my apartment. I guess this is my crappy housewife version of nesting. And walking the few blocks to the Gap from school? Makes me feel like this baby is headbutting my pelvis. Ah, the joys.

And the other reason it bothers me? Is because soon enough getting out to run an errand is going to be a big, fat, complicated deal involving an infant, a toddler, a stroller, a sling, and who all knows what kind of accoutrements. Am getting nervous.

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