I just ate way too many cookies. Waaay too many. In fact, I ate so many, I'm not sure how many I ate. And I'm not even full. Yikes.
Ah, well. All is not lost. Ragsy took me and my husband on an hour-long jaunt in the park, so at least I'd already burned off some cookies by the time I ate them. My husband has never believed me about Ragsy's predilection toward running. I'm not sure why, since he's actually seen our kid in motion before. I felt really vindicated when my husband came gasping up to me saying, "Oh, God. He's still going." Luckily I didn't have to run after him this time - I got a nice, sedate stroll in. I was afraid that if I bounced around too much, my water would break. After my doctor's appointment Thursday, that might be a fairly valid fear.
With that in mind, my goal (not that I really get to have one when talking about labor) is to get this kid to stay put until a week from Tuesday. It'll be win-win all around: the kid will have an extra week and a half to bake, my mom will be in town so I don't have to impose on a friend and I'll get to see Ragsy in his Halloween parade at pre-school, take him trick-or-treating for the first time and enjoy a last party before D-Day. Now if I can just get these pesky contractions to stop. What is it with these impatient babies?
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