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Our plan: Dave cries, I slip the doctor a $20 and maybe we all leave happy April 23, 2010

Posted by Erin F. Wasinger in Being a mama, It's how we roll, Kind of unreasonable.
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The base for the baby’s car seat’s in the car. The D batteries for the swing are purchased (and haven’t dropped in price over the last two years, hot damn; why does everything for babies cost so much? Little money pits, they are). The outfit she’ll wear home from the hospital sits on top of the dresser she’ll share with Alice. While I may appear to be staring into space I’m probably more than likely pushing a foot out from under my ribcage and counting the days til I’m my own, singular person. Or I’ve slipped into a daytime nap with my eyes open. Entirely possible, if you’ve ever tried to “sleep” at 38 1/2 weeks pregnant.

I’m ready. Physically, yes, I’ve been ready: You need not look further than the tank tops that won’t stay tucked in my pants (Dear World: I’m SO SORRY.) to realize my body’s juuuust about had enough. But really, emotionally, no one has ever been more ready for this to all be over — or for that glass of wine I’ve been promised. Just one! I just need one. Big one.

“Maybe this will be the last weekend,” I said to Dave as we drove to the sitter’s after work to get Alice. Life sucks less when I try on optimistic phrases like that.

“Hopefully.” Dave’s thinking of that breakdown I had because not one of my three remaining pairs of work-appropriate pants that fit were dry this morning. HOW DARE HE NOT JUST KNOW THE STATUS OF ALL THREE OF MY PANTS. ROOOOARRRR. Two flights of stairs! RUN, Dave, RUN.

“Can you picture doing this” — making big circles in front of my body, to indicate life itself — “for another week?”

“God, no.”

“We need a plan. At the doctor’s appointment Tuesday, if she doesn’t mention induction, how about YOU cry? Because I’m sure she’s immune to my tears. She might listen to you.”

“Yeah I’ll cry and say ‘YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE. SHE’S SO MEAN TO ME.'”

“Exactly.”  And he’s right. That’s the thing. I love this man. He’d run down to put a pair of overworked pants into the dryer at 6:45 a.m., and he’d cry in public for me.

So in a couple weeks when I want to kill him for breathing weird, would someone remind me of this? Thanks in advance.

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Comments»

1. Kelsey - April 24, 2010

GOOD LUCK for an imminent, speedy, and healthy delivery!

I just found your blog because of a “toddlerhood” tag. I love what I see! It’s a particularly fortuitous post for me to find because I’m secretly harboring a desire to try for baby #2. My husband is secretly harboring a desire to buy a motorcycle or backpack across Europe or do something else un-father-like. Remembering the end of pregnancy is a good reminder of why waiting doesn’t hurt. 🙂

2. erinfrances - April 24, 2010

Why thank you! And here’s to waiting … and no No. 3 for me. 🙂

3. Karen - April 26, 2010

This blog made me laugh out loud! Glad you still have your sweet sense of humor. Thinking about you, good luck Tuesday : )

4. Alisa - April 26, 2010

Go, Erin, GO! Go, Erin, GO!! Hang in there!! :))


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