You guessed it, tomorrow is my due date, and so I chose Little Orphan Annie's theme song to dedicate to today's pregnancy status. The hubby and I are fielding phone calls from anxious friends and family wanting to know when they can meet our little boy (this morning's first call was from my 2yr old nephew who demanded to know where the baby was and when he would be outside of my belly...when I say demanding I'm not kidding, he was yelling at me).

When we went to bed last night, the hubby and I took account of the waning hours of our quiet household. We laid in bed and talked for 45 minutes about nothing in particular. I went to sleep knowing I would really miss that luxury of a free flowing chat with him. Just before I drifted off to sleep, he rolled over, threw his arm over me and I compiled a mental note of all the friends, family and neighbors who have volunteered to babysit for us...you can expect a phone call.

The sun'll come out tomorrow, so ya gotta hang on til tomorrow, come what may.
Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya Tomorrow!
You're always a day away!

We're on the 5 day countdown until our baby boy arrives and I've noticed over the last few days how forward folks are in asking me how I'm "progressing". Yesterday I was playing with Murph Dog in the backyard when my neighbor and her husband came over and she quickly asked "are you dilated"? Hey, keep your mind off my private parts lady, I don't ask you if you have hemorrhoids!

There is really no way to avoid the question, as the thinning and subsequent opening of the cervix is the really only indicator of active labor, but its a little unsettling to be questioned about the status of your whoo-hoo. Once again my sheltered Catholic upbringing serves me well, as for my own well being, I would like to consider the theory of stork delivery. I haven't put a lot of thought into the process of delivering a baby myself. I choose to remain naive to those things I cannot control in this regard.

Wish me luck and a may my IV overflow with pain killers...

I am not the type to relieve myself in public, and often make a stink (and a pun) when someone around me blows air. Its just not right, some things should be intentionally kept to yourself. That is unless you are 9 1/2 months pregnant and you have no idea if you have a queue of gas in your ass waiting to be released. I was in Hallmark this weekend looking for, well, of all things, a card, and experienced a sure fire sign that I have lost my sense of humility and composure.

I was flanked by people on either side of me, who were also looking for Halloween cards and without any warning *TOOT* comes from my caboose. I stood there unapologetic, I didn't excuse myself (i.e. acknowledge the situation), I didn't blush or become the least bit embarrassed. I wanted to shout out "if I knew it was there, I would have held it, but I have 30 lbs of weight bearing down on that region of my body and so cut me some slack, lest I cut another one, pee my pants or have my water break on your shoes."

Nine days to go until baby is due. Until then I will continue to be a bag of pregnancy tricks...trick or treat, smell my feet, run around the toilet seat!  

I have 12 days to go until my due date...and if one more person tells me that as a first time mom, I should expect to carry this man child late I will blow a gasket. Over the last three or so weeks I have been scheduling every appointment I can think of so I have less errands to run with a newborn. I sat down and made the following list:

• get my hair cut & colored (top priority, of course)
• regualr mani/pedis (got to have pretty nails while stripped down naked in front of the hospital staff)
• visit the dentist (what a drag)
• oil change for the car
• rotate tires on the car
• replace air filters in the furnace
• stock freezer with food
• groom Murph Dog (I decided to try grooming him myself...I am going with the mantra that maybe the third time will be the charm)
• clean the carpets
• buy new running shoes (can't wait to run again)
• visit the optometrist (I was advised to wait for a couple months after delivery, as pregnancy hormones can affect your eyesight).  

Finally, the most important errand I need to run is to shop for a Halloween costume for the little guy. He'll only be a couple weeks old, but the neighbors have already asked us to bring him around. I'm thinking a baby Batman costume and Murph Dog can dress up as Boy Wonder. Jeez, I wish I could sew!

My increasingly bulbous belly and strategically concentrated mask of pregnancy above my lip in a phony mustache fashion has led to me to suggest The Walrus, by the Beatles as today's sexy pregnancy side effect tune. As I listen to this song, I am tempted to clap my hands together like a walrus, since my hands have fallen asleep again and are tingling with numbness, but I don't want the dog to look down his nose at me in ashamed embarrassment.

Three weeks to go! Until then...I am the Eggman, I am the Eggman, I am the Walrus. Coo coo ka choo.  

We took our hospital tour last week, which encouraged me to get my bag packed for the our great escape to the hospital. I've asked a few friends, and collectivley, they have come up with the following essentials to take with me. By the way, during our tour of the hospital, I was assured that all of my dietary needs would be taken care of by the hospital cafeteria. Does this mean I can order a pitcher of margaritas to my room? Lightly salted rims, please.

• nightgown (the hospital gowns are pretty scratchy)
• maternity bras (babys fist game of peek-a-boo)
• tank tops with built-in bra
• t-shirts (gotta cover up the boobies when the in-laws come to visit)
• yoga pants to wear home
• warm socks
• hard candies to suck on during labor
• toiletries
• audio visual closet (all the media and communication gadgets one needs to capture the moment)
• baby book
• baby outfit and cute blanket to lay the baby on for his first picture
• carseat
• husband

Three of my sisters are coming to stay with me this weekend (another baby shower is on the docket), I am planning on dragging them to the drugstore so they can advise me on all the unmentionables I will need when I get home. I'm not sure what to expect, but I know it won't be pretty. Who says cotton mesh granny panties aren't sexy...

Last week when I weighed in at my Dr. appt I was three pounds shy of my hubby's weight. Since then he's been to the gym every day, and I've polished off a tub of vanilla bean ice cream, a jar of peanut butter and a bag of gummy fruit (by the way, the end of a pregnancy timed with copious Halloween candy at every store is an example of how cruel the world can be sometimes).

I am going in for my weekly appointment with my OB today, and am prepared to tip the scale even closer toward my tall and skinny husband. I considered this last night while making dinner and decided not to drain the fat from the pot roast before adding the meat to the crock pot. I figured that alone would add 100 calories or so to his skinny butt. Of course, I consumed the same extra calories, I guess I wasn't really thinking my plan through very well.

Little pig, little pig, let me in, not by the hair of one of my three chins...

I am working on three hours of sleep today. All this tossing and turning at night with the big pregnant belly is exhausting. I pack myself like a Jimmy Dean sausage with pillows to support my baby mamma bod but still can only get through one REM cycle (i.e. 40 mins) before I am wide awake, ready to flip to the other side or get out of bed altogether and clean out the fridge.

If one more person tells me this sleep deprivation is "training" for getting up with the baby at night, as I punch them in the face I will tell them that my left hook is training me for the Olympics. I don't need training to be grouchy, I was born this way.

Three more weeks until the young Prince is due to arrive. I will be packing my hospital bag today, any suggestions of what I should bring with me?

The hubby and I have been considering attending a birthing class to help prepare for the second coming of Christ, er, I mean the birth of our first baby. We've asked a dozen or so couples and most of them advised us that the birthing class wasn't a great use of time. Which was great to hear, becuase neither of us really wanted to go anyway. I figure this child will come out one way or another, and the doctors and nurses at the hospital are well trained in the area of birthing babies, Miz Scarlett.

In a rogue kismet kind of way, we happened to catch an educational episode of Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs with host Mike Rowe.

Hubby loves this show, and after watching this episode, where Mike learns the ins and outs of birthing cows, I am more confident that hubby won't be passing out on the hospital floor. We'll see how he reacts when I start moo'ing like the cows in the video...I'm sure this will lead to numerous unappreciated jokes about being a milk cow when I start nursing. Maybe I should rethink the hospital birthing class for the sake of my own self esteem.

Might as well send me out to pasture now with a pina colada and a plastic Hawaiian lei...

I saw my doctor a couple days ago for my 34 week appt. He told me that the baby is "locked and loaded", head down in my pelvis. All good news. What he failed to tell me is that the little sucker would be pinching my hoo-hoo every time I take a step. Ouch. This is a royal pain in the pelvis. I am left wondering, if the baby's head is lodged in my pelvis, will my bone structure keep his head from growing much more between now and delivery? I ask more out of concern for me, as my hubby and I both have unusually large craniums. If my pelvis can keep the size of his head in check, then I'll gladly put up with the pinching while I waddle around over the next four weeks.

 I'm also wondering, do babies who hang out in the pelvis for longer periods of time come out with coneheads? Maybe I should pack a couple ConeHead costumes in my hospital bag for our first family photo. Halloween is just around the corner!