Well done

Fine, so I like my bacon crispy. I like my hot dogs well done. I like my toast toasty. I guess I also like my children on the well done side.

Today is day 2 of being past due. Today is also the 13th, which is not only my Uncle George's birthday, it is also the other date that I thought this baby would pop out. He started out torturing me with thirteens. Thirteens everywhere, my first two doctor's appointments were both, yes BOTH on Friday the 13th.

His first heart rate was 113 and my shower was on September 13th and there were some other 13s that popped up along the way. His Grandpa's birthday is on the 13th of January, and I'm getting the feeling at this point, that my child wants his birthday to be in January as well.

Sorry son, ain't gonna happen.

He really is the Great Pumpkin and all I can do is wait and try to think of ways to make him uncomfortable in there. Maybe I should start drinking tons of cold liquids. I don't know what else to do. The only thing I can think of is to walk. I will walk walk walk until I can't stand it anymore. Of course, that pretty much means around the block at best, but I will give it a go. I just ate some trail mix, which he seemed to enjoy because he is being a fidget right now. Tossing and turning and poking at my lower abdomen...at least I don't feel like he is stepping on my collarbone, anymore.

The house is clean and if he doesn't make it out soon then Mr. W will have a chance to destroy it again before I give birth, which means I will have to clean again before then and that will make me very unhappy.

*SIGH*

Now starts the approximate 50 something hour countdown until I check into the baby unit hotel to interrupt this kid's playtime. You would think being the big baby they estimate him to be, he might be crowded for space, but I guess not. I must have a very comfortable belly. Lord knows the dog enjoys sleeping up against it.

In other news, in my never ending quest to be comfortable in bed at night, I have driven Mr. W to tell me that he is looking forward to a restful night's sleep on the cot in the hospital. My heart really bleeds for him right now. It isn't my fault that between the dog, the baby and myself we are now taking up an entire half of the bed instead of the quarter that I am usually allotted.