Bless You...

Last week one of my bosses came in to work snotting and sneezing and coughing all over the damn place, and in the back of my mind I *knew* I would catch his crud. I didn't give it much thought again until I started to feel like total crap late Saturday night while we were doing some midnight grocery shopping. I know myself so well and I've been sick enough times to know the drill prefectly. Hot, flushed feeling, followed by a scratchy throat and feeling like I'm under water, then the nose stuffiness sets in and everything turns to shit. My nose decided to clog last night, so I'm at the part where everything is shit. Happy Monday to all.

Friday night we had our company Christmas dinner at a really kick ass steak house in Southlake. I was totally impressed with everything about the restaurant, the food and atmosphere were awesome and I sort of kicked myself for dreading the whole thing beforehand. I DID NOT WANT TO GO. D and I fought the whole way there, because I felt the need to be a total bitch and turned any feelings of dread and work-related misery into hatred toward my poor husband. I am in the running for wife of the year, for sure.

In the end it was a fantastic night. Now all of the employees are raising their eyebrows, wondering if that expensive dinner counts as our Christmas bonus for the year. We can't ASK, of course, but we will all be anxiously waiting to see if we get an extra check in the next few weeks. While we all totally enjoyed and appreciated the delicious dinner, you simply cannot take a steak to the bank and deposit it, nor can you bring your leftover dinner up to Macy's and use it to purchase Christmas gifts for family and friends. You also can't pay for a hospital bill after giving birth with cold calamari and crabcakes, so my fingers are crossed... now that I've just read that back to myself, I feel like a selfish wench. I'm ok with feeling like a selfish wench.

The doctor "checked" me on Thursday and said that I am not dialated but that I do feel a bit soft. I love how the terms used to describe fruit are the same terms used to describe a cervix's readiness to deliver a baby... i.e. "ripe" and "soft". Yum. Anyway, I'm totally giving my cervix a talking to. The conversation usually goes something like this:

Me: Hello down there! Maybe you could "ripen" and "soften" and dialate just a smidge to speed this thing up?"

Cervix: ::

Me: Ok, well, if there's anything I can do to help, let me know!

Cervix: :: (braxton hicks contraction) ::

Me: Heh, ok, talk to you later!

Cervix: ::

So... time ticks away, my doctor will be going on vacation the week of the 19th (my original induction day) so we either have to induce on the 16th or after he returns from his vacation. I'm convinced that these last few weeks of pregnancy are simply to torture me. The baby is physically ready to come out, he just wants to spend another week or two chilling in his cozy little womb. He's totally doing shots of tequilla in there and going clubbing at night, sleeping in till noon and all of that. He's got some killer dance moves that nearly KILL ME and cause me to wince in pain, especially the one where he sticks his butt out while jamming a foot into my rib cage. While it may look cool, it fucking hurts.

I can't wait to meet him. Yesterday I was looking through a Kohl's catalog and started CRYING when I turned to the baby page. Anything with pictures of babies smiling and drooling for the camera causes me to wimper and tear up. The mere thought of meeting and holding and loving my baby in just a couple of weeks swallows me whole. I can't wait. I am so ready. Then we can do tequila shots together!