I've been tired and cranky for two days in a row, and the midwives say that's a good sign: the more fed up the better. I dunno. It's starting to look like I'll be able to make another trip to the gym this week. Which, in a strange inversion of my usual attitude, I was actually hoping to avoid.
*TMI* I ate a dozen and a half prunes (or so) this morning in an attempt at a "castor oil lite" remedy... Nothing yet, and Constance came home and ate the rest of the prunes for an after-school snack, so I can't repeat the procedure.
Otherwise, good times on the home front. The midwives at bookclub on Friday said it was okay to drink some beer, and offered stretch 'n' sweeps all round. Awesome. I've been getting some reading done, some cleaning, and lots and lots of napping.
My chiropractor said she wanted to be like me when she's 9 months pregnant... (Referring to my perceived spryness, I assume.) Unfortunately, my ability to move around on the chiro table is absolutely NOT indicative of my (lack of) ability to roll over under covers in bed at night. I'm at the point where I pretty much have to heave myself out of the bed, turn around, and re-position myself back in there, lying on my other side. Awkward at best, and requiring me to rouse myself to a state of full awakeness every 2.5 hours.
I'm not complaining though. I'm just ready. (I'll save the complaining in case I need it a week from now, if I'm still waiting then.)
Also, Ben has just finished convincing us that a family dinner at Ste. Hubert is a good idea. So I'm off the hook for cooking dinner tonight. I'll save the planned spicy curry for tomorrow, when -- if I'm still available to make dinner -- I'll be even more ready.
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