It is time

Well, I think this can be considered the home stretch. Once given the ok at tomorrow's doctor's appointment (which had better be forthcoming lest I rip his spleen out) I will resume normal activity and give birth mere hours after I carry a laundry basket to the kitchen.

I know I am supposed to wait until after Saturday's shower, but I cannot adequately describe how badly I want to be done. It hurts. Yesterday, I made a pan of stuffed shells to freeze, and the contractions came at 7 minutes apart. It's time. Oscar must have a thing for turkey and artichoke stuffing. And remember when I used to be fun? Remember when I accepted your gracious invitations and contributed to conversations? Remember what I looked like upright? Good times...

Besides, I have every contractor and craftsman in the greater Tampa area scheduled to come out for some various last-minute nesting project this week, so it really is time.

Think birthing thoughts....