more American by the minute

Not only is my English husband about to be the father of a real live Michigan-born American, but Jim got his Michigan State Driver’s License last night. And he drives like a real Detroiter! Just now I sent him off to work – packed his lunch, kissed him goodbye – off on his own, and it felt a little weird to let him go. He’d better pay attention at those green light left turns – green doesn’t always mean go!

It’s perfect timing I think. I’m way too pregnant to even exist anymore. My baby is grotesquely huge. I swear he’s going to be a ten-pounder (though I guess every woman who’s nine months pregnant probably feels that way). From this point on I’m going to sit at home in my pajamas until he comes. Three more days, but I don’t think he’s in any hurry. He’s too comfortable in there. I’ll be optimistic and assume he wants to surprise me – no signs or symptoms, and then boom, labor!

And I refuse to drink castor oil! All these things people think to do when they’re one or two weeks past their due date, thinking it’ll make the baby come. If it works, they’ll swear it made them go into labor. Could it just be that maybe they were past due and their baby was finally ready?