Or, I Feel the Urge To Wave a Big Flag Around a Rotating Stage In Front of a Barricade While Singing a Seven-Part Musical Montage
Or Or, AAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Today marks the second of my five or so hypothetical due dates, and the one I secretly thought was the right one. We have no mucus plug or water breakage or contractions worth even talking about. So. That's probably that.
My in-laws are coming today, I will head to the hospital for pre-op bloodwork, I will play Legos with Noah, Jason and I will go out for one last dinner together and I will try very hard to not freak out about the fact that by tomorrow afternoon I will be the mother of TWO CHILDREN. TWO BOYS. A few years ago I assumed I would maybe have one child. A girl, of course, because boys are ew.
Noah seems to understand that tomorrow is Baby Brother Day, but then again, he also seems to understand that yes, We Wear Pants And Pants Are Good, but that doesn't stop him from collapsing in a pile of misery when it's time to actually wear pants. Not pants! Nooo! Oh, woe. I think he'll be okay. I hope so. God, I can't even really think about it right now. I can only chew on his face and tell him how much I love him, because he's been so great, so funny, so amazing, coming home from school singing the alphabet song and reciting the days of the week and talking talking talking talking talking. Tomorrow night I'm going to see him hold his baby brother and...and...I can't even imagine what that's going to feel like, or how profoundly my words will fail to describe it.
(Not ew in the slightest, although maybe the stained ratty tank top I've been wearing for three straight days is a little ew.)
(I got a pedicure this morning [THANK YOU HILLARIE FOR THE GIFT CERTIFICATE OMG], by the way. I assume it looks pretty nice. I'm looking forward to actually seeing my feet again at some point this week, maybe.)