Sluggo

Things are definitely starting to get un-glamorous with this latter stage of pregnancy. It’s like my naturally chipper-morning-personality has been replaced with that of a slug, or Jabba the hut. I can’t even get up in the morning any more. I lay in bed (or more frequently the couch) on my back (which I’m not supposed to do) and watch the clock hands drip around to noon. It’s pathetic. The sun shines, my list-of-things-to-do calls me, birds sing, people talk outside my window…it all just goes by me and I slip deeper and deeper into slothdom. Or at least I imagine that I’m doing this. In reality, I’m up by eight but my day seems half over by then. I have the energy of a cheap dead battery.

I sleep on the couch a lot these days. It’s not that I’m trying to get away from my loving husband, it’s just that I can never get comfortable in bed and I’ll sleep wherever I can. If the kitchen floor was comfortable, I’d sleep there. I even catch myself eyeballing the baby’s crib and wondering if I could just get over the railing, it might be comfortable there. And did I mention that I snore now? It’s so romantic and endearing… I am a disgusting snoring slug. What’s next, I’ll start oozing green slime?

I know it sounds like I’m sad and depressed. I’m not. I’m actually raring to go. I really really want this baby to be here already. She kicks me and makes all kinds of wiggly squirmy movements inside me. I feel like I’m already getting to know her. Guess what really makes her kick? Pink fizzy lemonade from France (via Trader Joes). What a darling she already is, taking after her mommy who loves anything from Paris!

I think I’m just a teeny bit discouraged because I really thought my little baby might come early. Like this week. But when I went to my doctor’s appointment yesterday, my doctor said I will most likely make it all the way to my due date (January 15th) if not past it. So that comment about the baby’s head being super low (that she said the week before), that means nothing! When everybody looks at my big belly and says, “Wow! You look like you’ve dropped already.” That means nothing too! I’m good and stuck with her in here for at least two and a half more weeks! Groan.

TWO and a half MORE WEEKS! That’s an eternity in my state of slugdom. And I was really hoping to get out of doing laundry today.