I found some of my plug yesterday. Ew. Joy. I've been contracting a bit. At 35+ 5, I'm not really interested in having a baby for another week. I created this list for FB, which is, of course, being a butt and not posting anything.
Because I am the mommy and I said so.
His name might just have a link to Ireland but that doesn't mean he needs to be born near St. Patrick's Day.
Come on, baby. Don't you want to harass your oldest brother for the rest of his life by making him share his birthday?
My doula is out of town until Monday. I know my back ups rock out loud but, frankly, I want the fab-u-lus Dr. Alyssa to be there!
We're racing with Kyle and her baby. You need to let them win. (And if her Bean comes out first, I will by him lots and lots of Star Wars toys AND candy. If you come out first, you are GROUNDED!)
Two words: Lung. Maturity.
Because if you come before 37 weeks, I might have pump. Pumping stinks.
I have a maternity photo session tonight and you can't have awesome, sexy picture taken while you are in labor.
Your grandparents are coming this weekend and they don't need to see Mommy a blubbering, hysterical mess. Again.
Your grandmother was born on Palm Sunday and therefor, you should be too. Or anytime after that. Like Easter. Or after that.
I want to go to the Easter eggs hunts. You can come too- in utero. But not out of utero.
I will get to steal more chocolate if I can go to the egg hunts. Therefore, you will get more chocolate. Chocolate is good for you. Really.
The house is a mess. I need to finish your room and your brother's.
The baseboards are not clean.
When the dr told Mommy to make sure she watches her weight, he didn't mean to stop the weight gain by you coming early.
Just because I am starting to have on and off signs of pre-labor doesn't mean real labor has to start.
And remember, Mommy is in charge. Mommy is in charge. Mommy is in charge.