Back at Monday so fast, chickens.
It was a productive, happy little weekend though, so I’ll take the monotony of the commute for a few days, if I must.
This weekend, JW and I finished up pretty much all of the shopping we need to get done before BW gets here (you know, aside from diapers. I keep forgetting about that one), and it is now official: the baby has more gear than he needs.
He also has more places to sit down in this house than I do, by virtue of the collection of swings, bouncers, sleepers, and saucers we’ve amassed.
It’s good to have choices, right?
I went to bells this weekend, where I very slowly lunged and squatted, thinking that if nothing else, swinging a weight around might turn out to be a good way to induce labor.
I’m not sure I’m going to pigeon-pose my way into the delivery room, so it’s important to keep up both practices, from where I’m standing.
After Gene proclaimed that he loved me for showing up, he proceeded to eye me warily for 60 minutes, suggesting that I maybe quit it with the burpees and also, did I know I didn’t have to do so many squat jumps.
I’d like to point out that at this juncture, they’re more like jump hops.
And I’m doing them all.
When class was over, he walked me down the stairs, where I promised him I’d either see him next week or I’d have a baby.
You’ve gotta keep moving until you can’t chickens.
Let’s get this last week of my 20s, and potentially this last week of being pregnant, started.
Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it.