The View From Here

The view from here is getting smaller and smaller every day...

But I can balance a cake platter on my belly. Just sayin'.

Today marks 36 weeks and 5 days. There's just something about hitting the 9th month that has pushed me into day counting instead of week counting. Because 3 weeks and 2 days just isn't a long time. And if I think about that too hard, I get a little panicky...my hands get sweaty, my chest gets tight, I have to remember to breathe...so if I say we've got 23 days left, that makes me feel better. More time to do laundry. More time to forget everything I've seen on A Baby Story. More time to enjoy eating Girl Scout Cookies without thinking about how its going to effect this year's swimsuit edition. So 23 days left. 36 weeks and 5 days. And I feel like I'm about to POP.

I can't wait to meet this little boy! I may or may not have snuggled one of the Hubs' 8 pound weights today, singing a lullaby and pretending it was my sweet baby. What can I say? I'm a little excited.

Still feeling good despite the occasional relocation to my ribs and the constant inconvenience of simply not being able to bend over without thinking I'm going to bust something.

We're down to weekly doctor's appointments, and we're also to the point where both the Hubs and my mom answer my calls with an "ARE YOU OK?!?!?" without fail every time. Something about being over 36 weeks pregnant gives people the impression you're a ticking time bomb. And I guess I am. I mean, did I mention I can balance a cake platter on my belly? Just sayin'. This kid is a bruiser and running out of room fast. I am seriously considering asking my doctor if it's possible for my stomach to actually explode...I'm thinking if things don't get rolling soon, it may come to that. We're getting dangerously low on vacancy, folks.

I wish I had more to report than the simple fact that I am huge and that the Hubs and I barely fit in a picture together anymore.

Just a lot of laundry and eating and American Idol watching and waiting going on around here. Although, the week is sure to take a turn towards the significant tomorrow when I wrap up my last day with the little guy I have been watching since December. And Thursday is a day I have been dreading since the summer of 2008 when I started watching the two sweetest little girls EVER. I'm in denial. I don't know what I'll do without all the fun hair bows and dance parties in the car and random exclamations of "Hey! Move your big 'ol butt!" or "Don't hold me! I'll squish the baby in your belly!" I am going to miss those sweet little girls so much, and I have no idea what kind of shape I'll be in Thursday afternoon when I have to say my goodbyes given these pregnancy hormones and all. I am going to be a mess. The Hubs is going to have to do some major damage control when I get home from work.

But that's Thursday. Today is Tuesday. And its time to find a spot on the couch to watch A.I....the Hubs has informed me its Miley Cyrus week. Really?!? I'm still holding out for Tim McGraw. When is Tim McGraw going to get on the show and tell these people how its done?