Oh, Chubby Checker... there are three reasons your tune is the one I dedicate to today's pregnancy status. Being that I am two days past my due date, Chubby just seems to be a perfect musician for me to channel today. That and the fact that I just came home from a walk-walk-waddle around the lake, having decided that as long as I keep moving, the baby will be encouraged to dislodge himself from his cozy abode in my belly. Hopefully, while I was on my hour walk (which usually takes closer to 30 mins), my little boy was twisting his way down, inching closer to his big debut. 

The third reason Chubby's Twist is the song of the day is that I was hit with a sugar attack on my drive home from the lake, and being a rare sunny day in late October in the Pacific Northwest, I decided this must be an "Indian Summer", which of course calls for an ice cream cone. So, I pulled into Tulley's, ordered a vanilla bean and chocolate twist in a cone. I had to repeat myself three times, obviously the dipstick working the drive-thru isn't accustomed to customers ordering ice cream in the midst of Fall. 

"C'mon, twist again, twisting time is here..." 

When I initially saw Dr. Z Gyno Extraordinaire at 9 weeks pregnant, he told me that by the calendar (the date of my last period), my due date was yesterday, Oct 15th. When I had my 20 week ultrasound, the baby's head, femur and other leading indicator body parts estimated his birth date at Oct 20th. Dr. Z decided to stick with the earlier due date because of my active lifestyle, my stubborn disposition may have had something to do with it as well.

Now that Oct 15th has come and gone, I am looking at Oct 20th, and perhaps later. I don't have any physical indication that the baby will be coming in the next few days. My water hasn't broken, I'm still feeling really good. Its a bit more difficult to bend over to put pots and pans away, or to get off the couch, but honestly I was more physically exhausted three or so weeks ago than I am now. I am sleeping much better and this has me perplexed. To get this far, and have no idea when this child will first send me into a hurricane of pain before making his arrival makes this tale of two due dates yet another one of the woes of pregnancy that nobody told me about.

Since I found out I was pregnant on Valentines Day, I've earmarked October 15th as the due date, I've told countless friends and relatives, I arranged for my maternity leave to begin based on that date...only to find out once the day approached that perhaps Oct 20th is more realistic. That's like telling a half marathon runner that they took a wrong turn, and they are actually on the full 26.2 mile marathon route...and its raining, and they have blisters and diarrhea has set in.

That half marathon runner better be compensated with the oversized race t-shirt and cheesy medal bragging that they finished the FULL race. I haven't thought of what my conciliatory prize should be for sticking this pregnancy out another week...but I'm thinking it belongs in the "medal/natural stone" family. Perhaps the confusion of two due dates is the orgin of the push gift. Hint, hint, hubby my ring size is still a 6, don't let my pregnancy bloated digits fool you.

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...

We are 6 days from my due date and with hospital bags packed, are as ready as we will ever be. But what about Murph Dog, I'm not sure our 2 year old Goldendoodle even knows what changes lie ahead in our pack. I get the feeling he has an idea, as he's been even more cuddly with me lately, and of course I talk to him about becoming a big brother. I know he's a dog, but he is a child to us and so call me crazy, but we do consult him on family matters (he agrees with me that daddy should clean out the garage this weekend, for example).

We've asked friends with spoiled dog-children how they handled the dog meet baby situation and have done some reading on canine behavior to best prepare ourselves and Murphy for the arrival of the baby. Below is some of the specific advice we've received. It sounds to me that if you love your pet and make sure they know they are still an important part of your family then all should be okay. Also, don't be a moron and leave your pet with your new baby, they need time to adjust and demonstrate appropriate behavior around the baby consistantly.

One piece of advice I thought was worth calling forward is that its ideal to have your dog stay in your house while you rush off to the hospital. The more their routine stays in tact, the better for them. Secondarily, if you have a friend who can take your pup, that works too, especially if your dog has spent time at your friends house in the past. Kenneling your dog while you are in the hospital is a last resort plan, particularily if they are not used to being caged, I mean kenneled (remember, my dog sleeps in my bed, so I am not keen with the idea of a kennel, and consquently, I have a very spoiled dog who considers sleeping fully stretched across our bed as his Divine Right).

Introduction - popular vote is to have either the hubby or a family member who Murphy knows bring home one of the baby's blankets from the hospital before we bring the baby home, so Murphy can familiarize himself with the smell. Someone actually suggested bringing home one of the baby's soiled diapers…that’s gross, and I imagine the same person brought their placenta home to bake placenta brownies or use to fertilize a tree. One more person to take off my Christmas card list I guess.

Sleeping arrangements - Murphy sleeps in our bed with us and we have a bassinet set up right next to my side of the bed. We'll keep Murph in our room, maybe he'll get demoted to the floor to establish pack hierarchy with the baby. We'll just have to see how that goes. From what we've read, the dog and the baby should not sleep together in the same room unattended, and its also important not to change too much of the dog's routine lest they become jealous and resent the baby.

Play time - Without a doubt the dog and the baby should not be left alone together until Murphy consistently exhibits appropriate behavior around the baby (like fetching his bottles, and learning to change his diapers…have I mentioned that our dog is exceptionally smart?). I was especially concerned with Murphy taking baby toys, since they look so much like dog toys, until a friend suggested putting both dog and baby toys in a basket and letting Murphy choose which ones he wants to pick up, then correcting him when/if he goes for a toy with the baby's scent on it. Our obedience trainer gave us similar advice, that if you want to train a dog, "set him up" so that you can correct his bad behavior.

Teaching the baby - from the time you bring them home, babies are learning how to communicate, our vet says its never too early to start saying "be gentle" to the baby, even if you have them wrapped up in a blanket burrito style. If you are diligent, its to be expected that by 9-12 mos old the baby will have learned to pet gently rather than pulling the dogs hair, or slapping it on the head.

Basically the idea is to let the dog know that they are still an important part of your family, at the same time introducing a new baby who is ahead of the dog in pack order. General rules of thumb are not to leave the dog and a newborn alone together, when the baby starts to crawl, watch the baby carefully around the dogs food bowl (so that they don't eat the dog food and so that the dog doesn't become overly protective of his food).

None of our friends had a problem assimilating the dog and baby, and in most cases the two have become the best of buds.

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?