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Yes. I'm still pregnant.

A friend at my dance studio was absolutely convinced that I would have my baby on October 7th. Sorry. No dice.

My dad has me predicted at somewhere between the 8th and 10th, while my mom says it'll be more like the 23rd. I don't like her prediction much. (Sorry, Mom.)

Meanwhile I have another friend who has had a series of dreams that, whatever day I will deliver on, it will be at precisely 4:20 a.m.

Ha... no comment.

A series of well-wishers cautiously call as the days go by:

"How are you?"
"Still pregnant."
"Ah."

A Long December

A long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving
Oh the days go by so fast

I know I've been blogging about my pregnancy a lot lately. Sorry if it's getting old. The thing is, when you're in your ninth month, it's hard to think about much else. I mean, there it is sticking right out in front of you (and occasionally kicking you in the ribs as well).

Sometimes it all seems like rather routine business.

To Do:
fold laundry
buy milk
call mom
pack bag for hospital

...And other times the whole thing really hits you in a big Meaning Of Life kind of way.

Putting Pampers on a Cabbage Patch Kid

It was windy around here last night. It's frequently breezy here in the fall. That's one of the things about living in the Central Valley. There isn't much to stop it. But I'm not talking about the usual let's-go-fly-a-kite little autumn gust. Not today anyway. I'm talking about 25-35 mph winds. Technically the wind could be ticketed for speeding in my little residential neighborhood. Listening to it in bed last night, I was half expecting to wake up in Oz. It had the crack under the front door whistling like a tea kettle all night long, I kid you not.

#3 and #4

Last Friday, I got an email from a co-worker in the business department. Monday, she said, was the boss's birthday, and as such, we'd be having our standard pizza party to celebrate. Please be sure to sign the card. As I already had plans on Monday (Shawn's office was throwing us a baby shower) I more or less disregarded the email.

Monday rolled around and at a quarter to noon, I logged out of my work station, grabbed my keys, and headed for the door.

An Important Holiday

I've been so busy lately, there has been little time for blogging. In fact, I have three unfinished blogs sitting here on my desktop that I never got around to completing and posting. However, I don't believe in back-blogging so that was then and this is now. The world has moved on.

Eew

We started childbirth education classes on Wednesday. This week, they made us watch a video on the miracle of birth. Afterwards, the instructor turned on the lights and said, "So, what does everybody think?" Shawn and I looked at each other.

Is "Eew" an inappropriate response?

4:00 a.m.

4:00 a.m. and I'm sitting on my couch again staring at a dark wall. The last trimester of my pregnancy has brought with it a case of insomnia. Generally, I'm a good sleeper. I'd even go so far as to call it a skill. I've often said that if relay sleeping ever became an Olympic sport, my sister and I would pair up to take the gold. But now it's 4:00 a.m. and I'm staring at a wall, with my hand on my stomach, listening to the baby move around inside my belly.

Props to Wil

Wil Wheaton wrote a good blog today. If you've ever played Munchkin, you'll enjoy it, and if you haven't, well, me and my shoulder dragon here bet you a gazebo pelt that we can kick your butt. Come over for a game night.

Almost

It's almost fall. Did you notice? I caught it yesterday morning. A slight change in the angle of the light and the crispness of the air. Just a hint, a taste. But enough so that I caught it as I trudged out to my car in a sleepy stupor with my car keys in one hand and my lunch box in the other. It's made me think of Halloween. Of apple cider, and mud on my shoes as I tromp through the pumpkin patch looking for the perfect pumpkins, and the smell of dry crunched-up leaves. Good stuff.