Bethanie's Brain

/*begin rant*/ My feet hurt. My hands hurt. My left hip is getting pulled (pushed?) out of its socket, i.e., dislocated, i.e., it really fucking hurts. I've had contractions every 20 to 40 minutes for the last day and a half. Most of them are the serious kind. Well, they don't hurt (not like the hip thing, which either doubles me over or drops me to the floor depending on whether there's something handy for grabbing or not). So I know it's not labor, but I pretty much zone out during them and don't hear what anyone says to me. (Except Ms. Four, but she's special.) So I know things are happening. We're effacing. We're dilating ever so slowly. Progress is being made. I still have no baby. I mean, she's still there . On the inside. I want her to come out and play. Hell, everybody wants her to come out and play. But no one more than me. I can't take another day of waddling. I can't take another day of everyone rushing around trying...

So I was planning on posting another litany of complaints (complaints new and different from those on the last litany-of-complaints post) this evening. But I can't remember what they are. Why? Two words: Hot Tub. As in, the house we bought last month came with one and we finally got it drained, scrubbed, refilled, pH-balanced and had a sit in the fucker tonight after Ms. Four went to bed. It was fucking great. No. It was SUPER fucking great. I mean, you have no idea what great is until you're 9 months fucking pregnant and suddenly find yourself weightless. With massage. I couldn't stop giggling and didn't even care. It was absolutely fan-fucking-tabulous. The hip pain disappeared (it's been with us since April). The lower back pain melted away. The aching feet thing dissapated. Even the finger joint pain (a result of the relentless edema as I understand) took a hike for a bit. Oh yeah, and whatever it was I was going to gripe about took off, too. Now m...

1. How much longer do you have? Too long. Whether it's one more hour, one more day, one more week or three more weeks, it's going to be too goddamn long. The only person who can ask me this and not piss me off is the girl at Starbucks and that only because she gave me the "Mommy Discount" and I got my decaf tall mocha for free one day a couple of weeks ago because I was having a bad-mommy morning. The rest of you need to shut up. 2. Do you have a name yet? No. Actually, yes. We have a list. As I've explained nine dozen times, I cannot and will not name someone I have never seen. It just seems wrong. When we see her, we'll name her. Please stop asking. 3. Can I get that for you? This is the hardest one for people to understand. Especially, bless his heart, The Husband. He's only trying to help and make these last few (*cringe*) weeks easier for me. But, really. I can get a glass of water by myself (sort of) and I hate needing help with stuff. Therefore, hav...

Spotted stuck to the back of a shiny red Dodge Ram pickup: What would Homer do? It made my commute and I grinned all the way home. Hah!