Doctor's Update: Week 38

Dilated 2 cm (!!!)
Everything else the same.

Progress is progress, right?! I'll take it. It took me hours and hours of actual labor to hit 2 cm with Alex.

In other news, Paul and I are silly. Silly silly silly. And maybe you could substitute 'silly' for 'STUPID STUPID FOOLS'. Either one is acceptable.

We've decided that NOW would be the perfect time to finally get some of these silly little house projects done that we've been putting off, oh I don't know, since we've moved in. Maybe he is trying to make me go into overdrive so my head finally spins and pops off and he won't have to listen to me whine anymore. Or perhaps it's sympathy nesting. (Because he certainly isn't gaining sympathy weight. The jerk has been LOSING weight and looking great. I hate him. SO insensitive.) Either way, hubby went out at butt-crack early yesterday morning and came home with buckets of paint and various items needed to apply that paint. I am not as concerned as I probably should be. I understand that my only role in this will be to take Alex somewhere for a day to escape the fumes. But still... as much as I am going to enjoy having my kitchen painted (FINALLY!!!), I can't help but wonder what it's going to look like when I call Paul after he's done half of a wall and tell him that my water broke and I need him to DROP EVERYTHING and come pick my wet butt up. I have a feeling that that half a wall will be all that's painted for quite some time. But... it's all hypothetical, right? Sure.

We also have this big list written on our dry-erase board. List of things to do to the house to put it up for SALE. AFTER THE BABY IS BORN. BECAUSE WE WANT TO MOVE. AND WE LIKE PUTTING OURSELVES THROUGH AS MUCH UNNECESSARY PAIN AS POSSIBLE. Things like, hang curtains, weed, clean the pool (which... HUGE undertaking, that one. Our pool has a colony of tadpoles living in the water that's gathered on the cover. And thanks to our brainy dog who decided to take a dip one day and jumped right on top of the cover, causing Paul to have a mild heart attack while screaming at her to get out, and then tearing several holes with her nails in her attempt to escape the furry of said husband... most of those tadpoles are now living in the actual pool. High five, Violet.). I don't know. I think we'd get the same effect if we stood in front of our garage and let people fling rocks at us. But... whatever.

(Side note: I am watching my daughter sit and play with a toy. Like, SIT STILL. And play with just one toy. She's been there for about 3 minutes, which is a record. I don't want to take a picture, because I feel like the flash might throw her off and set her running again. I am not even looking directly at her for fear of distracting her. Oh... wait. It's done. She's up and running now. Up and down the hallway. I'm still impressed with how long that lasted.)

So, that's where we are at now. Lord help us.