Baby is:

• 37 Weeks
• A free-loading, full term baby
• A leech

I am:

• Pretty over being pregnant, let’s be honest
• Remembering why I hate pregnancy so much
• Huge

Oh, the memories:

• The feeling of “last minute” panic that there is still so much to do (there’s not) and no time to do it (there is) because this baby is coming tonight (he’s not).
• Only gaining a pound a week.  “Only” should be the shocking word here, not the fact that I’m adding weight and stretch marks as quickly as I am.

Surprising:

• With Lucas I was purely anxious to meet him and ready to have him.  With this one, I look at my screaming 2 year old throwing balls in the house and chasing the dog, and I appreciate the fact that this one is staying put.  But then I have to get up to pee and I start grunting and waddling my way to the bathroom and I’m like “yeah, now I remember why I was just telling you to get out.”
• Absolutely cannot believe that my time is up, this pregnancy is about over, and my entourage is growing (again).  I can’t wrap my head around the fact that the c section is now and not months from now.  I have 17 days left.  That’s nuts.

I would like to say that this week it hit me that I was done, but my mind is still hanging out somewhere between “the baby can come any minute” and “maybe I should take a pregnancy test to confirm that I’m pregnant.”  I’m in for a huge shock in a couple of days. Days.

Meanwhile, my toddler is cracking me up lately now that he’s getting more words.  I could fill a blog on what comes out of his mouth, but here are a few of my favorites from this week:

Me: Do you need a timeout?

Lucas (suddely very serious): No, I’m calming down now.

_______

Lucas (who is supposed to be taking a nap): Hey, Mama?  Hey Mama?  Are you coming back?  I want a cooooookie.  Hey, Mama!  Mama, what are you doooooooooing?  I want a cooooooookie.

_______

Lucas covers my feet with a blanket: Say “Thank you, Lucas”

Me: Thank you, Lucas.

Lucas: You’re welcome, Mama.

_______

Me: Are you stinky?

Lucas: No, I just farted.

Try having a pint sized 2 year old tell you these things while you keep a straight face.  It’s not easy, friends.  At bedtime tonight he got off of the toilet and strutted back to his room butt naked and singing to himself.  Angel and I both just started laughing at him because how can you not?

So I leave you with these deep thoughts by a 2 year old and wish you all a wonderful evening.