I'm off work now, for good, since the midwife just kind of said ... meh, do you need to go back to work? And I agreed with her. After three weeks of bedrest working from home, I was more than halfway out the door anyway. And ironically now I have a head cold. You know you're over doing it when you finally go on "vacation" and you get sick. Although in my case apparently overdoing it is just growing a whole new human, because it's not like I've been working late or running marathons here.

Every day when I arrive at the daycare to pick up my child, one more of the parents asks me "how much longer??!" or "Are you still here?" So far I'm not totally annoyed by this, but I imagine in two weeks I might snap and say something rude.

I spent part of today putting together playlists for delivery. One slow and calm and relaxing, and one of basically clubbing music so I can turn it way up and drown everything else out. I've come to the realization that a.) I have a terrible music collection and b.) I'm pretty deluded about labour. If I think disco tunes will take away the realization that my body is going through this, I really must be crazy.

But despite all this, I am still totally in denial about this labour thing. I mean, seriously, I'm pretty sure that my brain doesn't think that I'm going to go into labour at all. Perhaps this is because I passed the mark when the last baby arrived, and my brain is thinking it'll be another 37 weeks.

When I think about, say, having a contraction or my water breaking, the next emotion my brain processes is SURPRISE. Yeah. SURPRISE. Because I haven't been doing this gestating thing for 38.5 weeks already and preparing for this moment and all. I mean, we did this on purpose to have a baby, and my brain is still surprised that we might have this as a possible outcome.

I boggle my own mind on occasion. And not in a good way.

I'm sorry that this blog has become non-stop gestation for ... well, forever, it feels like. But there you go, this is what's going on. Oh, I did some laundry today and tidied the kitchen and stuff. But really that's more boring than waiting to give birth. Not much, I'll grant you.

The only other news is that my kid has decided to leave home. His new home? The easy chair in our living room, which he turns to face the fireplace. It's his "house". And the couch is mine, which seems reasonable given how much time I've spent there recently. It's just awesome how they get these great ideas, isn't it?