Friday, December 28, 2007

in which I am overly competitive with my unborn child

So, they tell you that it's common to run 8-10 days over. Or, Heaven forbid, as much as three weeks.

But no, I didn't think it was going to happen to me. Not me. I like to arrive on time; they gave me a due date of December 28th, darn it all, and I have full intentions of sticking to it. I LIKE my due date: it's got an 8 in it, falls right between Christmas and New Year's, and nets that all-important tax deduction.

However, seeing as it's past seven and I've nary a contraction, no water has broken, and I spent the day making curtains, cleaning house, walking dogs, and generally feeling pretty much FINE,
apparently this child of mine has other ideas.

I'm now making plans for the coming week out of self-defense. Because the thought of sitting around the house waiting to go into labor is no longer as deliciously sweet after a full week of vacation. NPR's back on, K's down at the building, and I've got big plans for novel revisions tomorrow. Because my life is FULL, baby girl; stand me up all you like and see if I care.

1 comment:

Big D said...

i was thinking that her arrival will be like that of Cinderella at the ball...

but then i just got irritated at my gender biased brain and started thinking about parties - it always irritates me when people show up late because then the people who were on time are stuck sitting there staring at each other, trying to down a glass of wine and make lame conversation, and then the late people show up and the lights go lower and the music goes up and finally everyone can start dancing...

if everyone just showed up on time to begin with, awkward small talk could be avoided entirely.

i'm crossing my fingers for your tax break!!!