The Littlest Rebel
Greetings, gentle readers!
First and foremost I have to extend a huge THANK YOU to each and every one of you for helping to keep me sane this week. Your messages, your emails, your well-wishes and continued support couldn’t be more appreciated! I’ve had so many unexpected smiles this week from so many of you and I want you to know how grateful I truly am. And thank you to all of you who wrote such humorous blogs that kept me entertained. You have no idea. Thank you.
In particular I have to thank the vibrant VANESSA, the awesome ANDY, and the sarcastically superior SARAH for somehow not only making me smile but keeping me laughing for so many hours this week. You guys rock!!
And I have to mention here too, ANNE, that every single email makes me smile….and you are still unmatched with your subjects
Heck now I feel bad, I should link all you guys and thank you all individually. Just know how much I appreciate you. Yay!
Having said that, please note that when I finally *do* snap and a combination of SEVEN DAYS OF EARLY LABOR CONTRACTIONS and THIS FREAKIN UNRELENTING HEAT makes me do Bad Things, you will all be spared. Yay!
Normally I like to think of myself as a happy person. I mean, sure, once in awhile I may feel the need to sharpen my finely-honed sense of sarcasm on a worthy target, but on the whole, I am fairly chipper.
Heck, I practically have rainbows shooting out of my ass. No, really.
But this past week, if you don’t mind my saying, those colors have started to run a bit. (perhaps from this ghastly unrelenting heat).
It wouldn’t be so bad….really…without these ever-loving contractions. I keep thinking that by the time The Littlest Rebel decides to finally make her long-awaited debut, she better slide out like butter. BUTTER, YOU HEAR ME?
*ahem*
I’m just sayin.
I may be (this is possible, mind you, not yet proven….) getting a bit tetchy. I know, I know. Who’d a thunk it? All I’m suggesting, dear readers, is watch the headlines. If you see something like
“Woman, 40 Weeks Pregnant, Snaps In Heat….Trashes Birth Center”
then you’ll know I finally had enough.
Except, in reality, I am such a pacifist, it would be more like
“Woman, 40 Weeks Pregnant, Snaps Fingers In Heat….Sweaty Fingers Make No Sound”
And, ok. As I said to a new friend in an email recently (who deserves her own blog so I shall have to get to that later) :
“If that *sounds* like complaining? It’s really not. This is all sooo worth it blahsie blah blah miracle of life yadda yadda. No. Really.”
That about sums it up, I feel.
*le sigh*
This is all just getting a bit nuts. I can honestly say I’ve never in my life been looking forward…nay, actively HOPING for, well…Pain. With a capital P. The past few nights I’ve been woken up from a sound sleep with some pretty strong contractions…..nothing like waking up in pain….and thought “YES!”
Now what, pray tell, kind of cockamamie crap is *that*? That I am actually *eagerly* anticipating the worst pain of my life? That I am disappointed when the pain once again subsides?
Then again, this is *me* we’re talking about here.
Proud wearer of clown pants.
Proud victim of government conspiracy.
Proud displayer of inappropriate laughter.
Again, you guys all rock.
Thanks for sticking with me.
I promise one day very soon this will allllll be worth it.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go call Dr Big Hands and see if I can sweet-talk my way into an induction 6 days before my due date.
Boo-yah!
Edit: so I called Dr Big Hands and asked him if all these contractions were putting my lil girl under undue stress. His answer? “No, they’re actually a good thing.”
I can only take that to mean that my butter-theory will prove apt. Huzzah! I mean, doncha think? I mean, what else could it mean, right? Why are you looking at me like that?