Dog Days

I’m 38 weeks pregnant and it’s a stagnant 96 degrees outside.  So, yes, I’m sitting on the floor of our half-finished nursery at 1:24 pm eating from a quart of Sweet Cow cookies and cream.

I am blessed.  I know this.  I feel AWESOME.  I can eat, sleep, exercise, socialize.  Two weeks ago I measured at almost 2 cm, and I’m still there.  Nary a contraction.  Chandler is as active as mama (and papa), kicking and squirming and hiccuping all day and night.  I want this week, or maybe the next two, to go on forever.  Every day, I am aware of how easy life is right now.  I can hike, go to yoga, go shopping, make phone calls, even work.  Eric can go for a 28 mile trail run on a Sunday.  (Not kidding, see below.)

Things are going to change.  For the best, ever.  We know that.  But for now, Eric really enjoys getting up at 3:30am to go to the mountains instead of to feed a baby.  And I really enjoy doing whatever I want whenever I feel like it.  But I think Chandler knows that.   The three of us are going to make the most of these next, last couple of weeks.  Selfish? Maybe. Sane?  I think so!