Yes, I’m still pregnant. And the next person that comments on that fact is going to a get a karate kick to the face.

I’m kidding.

SORT OF.

I know I’m not supposed to complain. I’m supposed to suck it up and talk about my pregnancy glow (haha, have you seen my jowls?), be thankful for the baby punching me in the crotch every 10 seconds causing shooting nerve pain into my groin region, enjoy the shit out of my swollen feet because they mean my boy is still in there cooking. I’m supposed to just love another day of work or another day to decorate for Christmas (I need another week because half the of the lights on the pre-lit fake tree and pre-lit garland don’t work and we haven’t even gotten to the real tree portion of our decorating regiment) or another day where I don’t have a newborn attached to my boob , etc. etc. etc

WHATEVER.

It’s my blog and I now that I know all 25 of you that are reading and I think you all must like my negative attitude because otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Right? RIGHT?

That was my introduction to my “I’m ready to have this baby now” story. I ramble when I’m fired up.

I’ve had a lot of contractions that haven’t gotten me very far. I’m pretty sure I’ve had “lightening” and lost my mucous plug (What? TMI? Sorry) but guess what? The contractions always stop and no baby comes. I had my other two kids early so I (and everyone else on planet earth) thought I would have this baby early too. And I KNOW I’m only 37w5d pregnant because my adoring husband reminds me of that every morning when I wake up with my swollen face and beg to not have to find some tent-like material to cover my protruding abdomen so that I get the pleasure of going to work so that I can be abused because I had the nerve to have a baby at an inconvenient time for them. FOR THEM. HMPH.

But, my body is CLEARLY gearing up for the big show and I really don’t love not knowing when the big show is going to occur. And yeah, I could probably schedule a c-section but if I know my children, I know that won’t mean shit all. He’ll just hear the date and decide to come at 3AM two days before JUST FOR FUN. In fact, I’m guessing this one is going to pick Thanksgiving itself when everyone we know is eating turkey and hanging out with their families three hundred miles away just to keep it real and interesting. We’ll get to bring the older two to the hospital with us because we won’t have anyone else to call.

Haha, wouldn’t that be funny? Think the nurses would want to babysit?

Or better yet, maybe he’ll wait until two weeks late when we’re like a week from Christmas. HAHA, very funny baby. Mama’s not laughing.

I did order pre-cooked Thanksgiving dinner so one way or another I will have a plate of meat and potatoes slathered in gravy to eat and enjoy. In fact, eating it at the hospital might be more enjoyable than eating it at home because there I won’t have to listen to a certain little girl cry and act like I am abusing her by having the nerve to put food on her plate that is mixed or touching. She told me I “hurt her feelings” last night when I gave her noodles with broccoli and chicken. Noodles and broccoli and chicken are three of her favorite foods but when they are all mixed together? WATCH THE FRICK OUT. Sister will make you pay for your crimes. Can you imagine what she’ll do with stuffing slathered in gravy? HAHAHAHAHA.

Thanksgiving is going to be awesome. I’m thankful I’ll either be squeezing a watermelon out of my lady parts or listening to a four year old complain about dinner. Either way, I win!

Your beautifully, messy, complicated story matters.(tell it)

-magpie morning