Let's get this out of the way first - Baby still not here.
Not going to launch into the drama of the last few weeks, but suffice to say, we are still waiting...
And by growing, I mean me getting fatter. The kid? Eh, not so much. Still a bit on the small side.
I'm now one day short of 39 weeks.
Or by my count, two solid months of zero physical activity, peppered with on-and-off-and-on (again) bedrest. One moment the kid's head is all but hanging out and we are bags-packed-and-headed-to-the-hospital, and the next he/she has crawled right back up and nestled into the apparently-welcoming envionment of my womb, with talk turned to being in this for the long haul.
You can imagine how thrilled this makes me.
Yeah, I am a straight peach to deal with at this point.
In fact, I was trying to post pictures of my baby shower (coincidently held the exact day I hit nine months so you can get the full impact of my ginormously swollen body and face) for this post, but iPhone is being a bitch and not letting me transfers pics.
I can't be bothered to figure it out, so I have to wait until my husband wakes up to do it for me.
Just like he now has to do everything for me: tie my shoes, cook my food, pull me off the couch (and out of the car),and deal with my bed-rattling snoring.
And endless complaining. Oh, it is endless.
I have ZERO patience for literally anything at this point (including work - it's like I am bothered when people call me during the day and I have to problems-solve some issue, gosh-forbid it breaks up my naptime), as my kid's foot has been stuck in my right rib for about five days, and I haven't sleep adequately in about two months.
Have I mentioned that my belly button (like my kid) can't decide what it wants to do, so it hasn't quite popped out, yet it isn't a regular in-ie anymore. No, my belly button looks like a clay-mation volcano, second only in nastiness to my cartoonish, National Geographic situation going on with my boobs.
Sit with that image for a minute if you can.
So in the absence of anything more entertaining (like those fucking pictures), here's a little something I learned this past week:
Eat too many Oreos and you risk not taking a crap for three days.