Hey people. I will TELL you if I go into labor. I will be the girl who remembers to bring her laptop to labor and delivery but forgets her hospital bag. Like I won't be LIVEBLOGGING the entire event.
Okay. Maybe not the ENTIRE event.
On an ordinary Monday at this time, I would be hurriedly stuffing a bagel down my throat as I ran red light after red light, but today I am home. I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself. Help!
I had Phillip leave last night's dishes in the sink so I would have "something to do". I made myself leave the baby's room alone this weekend so I'd have things to fuss with this week. I have a short list of errands to run and grand plans to clean the bathroom and I might even schedule that pregnancy massage I haven't had time for, but other than that? What do you DO when you stay home all day?
If I had the kid, obviously, I wouldn't be asking such a stupid question. But for now I am a housewife. Maybe I'll buy myself a box of bon bons and run the bath.
People (other than yourselves) have started the BabyWatch. We were a little late to a church fundraiser thing on Saturday and when we made our grand entrance, a dozen people rushed up to say they were SURE we were at the hospital having the baby RIGHT THEN. And when I got home a friend had left a message on our machine demanding to know if were giving birth that instant as we were a whole fifteen minutes late to the fundraiser.
I saw my aunt and uncle yesterday and they were all, "Next time we see you you'll be a MOMMY!" Very nice people have asked to be put on the Email Notification List, people I thought really weren't all that interested. Every time I call Phillip at work, to ask what he wants for dinner or that ha ha I'm leaving early and he isn't, his coworkers crowd around yelling THIS IS IT!
Tangent: My local news is interviewing Zach Braff right now (squee!) and there was some question regarding biological clocks and Mr. Braff just acknowledged that he is 32, "the time people start thinking about when to have babies." Oh Mr. Braff. I suppose it's all relative.
My new hire is supposed to show up at work in seven minutes. That's the real reason I'm on the computer. So if she has a question she can email me and get an instantaneous answer. This is how much I care.
Oh dear. Are you now dreading the caliber of my blog posts now that I am a blissfully unemployed housewife who requires a Hoyer lift to get her off the couch?