One of the great joys of late pregnancy is insomnia. Actually, I guess that could be a factor of the pregnancy, or of the fact that we went to bed at 10:00 last night, or of the general anxiety of the child-waiting mode.
Yesterday's baby-loosening strategies included a couple of swift laps around Dexter Training Ground (swift for a Macy's parade float), copious Indian food (which probably could have been spicier) and a long drive over Rhode Island's poorly paved highways and byways.
Conclusion: The Indian food gave me gas, and we really do need to do something about the sound our brakes are making. And oh, yeah, no baby.
Now that I know I have at least a small handful of readers, I feel obligated to post daily so no one thinks something is happening that isn't. If you are reading, drop a comment so we know you're out there! Whatcha dooin' for New Year's?
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4 comments:
No, I did not give birth to little Eva. That is a pretty name, though! I assume it's "Ayvah," not "Eevah," right? Mazal tov to Matt and Amy!
Didn't Little Eva sing "The Locomotion"? Did you know that she was Carole King's babysitter? Did you know that I secretly idolize Carole King? Did you know that I free-associate?
Free association reminds me the freedom to associate, which is a first ammendment right, which reminds me of the first time I cooked spaghetti, which reminds me of the oven, which reminds me of the phrase "bun in the oven" which reminds me that you're pregnant, which reminds me that you haven't posted today, so maybe you're squirting out a baby?
Michael keeps calling me and shouting "Where that baby?"
What? I didn't say that. Must be some imposter.
Oh, I was wondering why Michael kept shouting a Carrie. I can certainly see why he shouts at you.
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