I cannot tell you what a relief it always is for me to reach this point in my pregnancies. Now that I am over 37 weeks, I can heave a sigh of relief that the kid is considered fully cooked and can come out of the oven at any time without major risks to anyone's health.
That said. I feel I am having a crazy on-again off-again relationship with the passage of time. Days seem to fly by. Hours crawl. While I cannot WAIT to meet this baby, and am, therefore, extremely anxious for her birthday to get here, I know that every day that passes puts us another day closer to the Gutsy Dad's departure.
Hurry up, Father Time! No, wait, I mean slow down, Father Time!
Today I am--in theory--motivated to finish up some projects around the house that are currently creating physical stumbling blocks on our second floor landing. (Might be nice not to have to stumble over them post-op.) But I have done none of that.
I want to blog about each of my four girls (two human, two canine) with a little pre-baby status report. Hm. Perhaps that will happen. That does not involve standing up or moving around.
First, though, I need to bathe the dogs, which, alas, involves both standing and moving around. This is a rather time-consuming event given their size and mine. But for those of you who remember the Great Fox Poop Incident of 2008, rest assured that bathing the dogs now, with or without fox poop, is a far, far more pleasant task in this home's gigantic shower than it ever was in the teensy shower in Germany.
And now that I have rambled on in yet another post that will be of interest to no one other than my own mother, I will sign off, make a latte, eat a raspberry twist, and bathe the dogs.
More fun to come, I hope --