I wrote that title out of my absurd optimism just like I set my post-due-date midwife appointment with much eye rolling. While I was there for my routine visit this morning, I decided to forego having the midwife check my cervix because I just don’t want to know. I am staying optimistic at all costs, and hearing that I haven’t dilated a centimeter yet is not going to help that optimism one teensy weensy bit.

And so we spend another day living spontaneously and pretending we’re in back in college where Today! Just! Might! Bring! ANYTHING!!!!

That’s how we spent our weekend, and I can’t tell you how spontaneous and doting Matt was. He bathed the dog, hung curtain hardware (his least favorite task in the whole world), mowed the lawn, took me shopping and for water ice, took me out for pad thai, and suggested we rent the first two Twlight movies because “I’m interested in it since you’re so infatuated.” While we were in TJ Maxx, I suggested we pick up a gift for his coworker who has an upcoming baby shower, but he only wanted to do spontaneous things – not check things off a to-do list.

Then yesterday afternoon my sciatica was bothering me, so I flopped on the bed to spoon Berlin. Matt sat down with his guitar and played all of my favorite George Harrison songs over and over again until I ceased whispering “Again! Again!” He painted my toenails despite much guffawing, and he complimented me on the strange cream-of-every-kind-of-vegetable-imaginable-and-wild-rice-soup that I concocted. Soup for lunch on a 95 degree day.

As we were laying in bed last night, Matt’s first dog, Toby, was referenced, and I asked for a reminder on how Toby died. “He died of heat stroke.” And that’s when I remembered the tragic story and broke into hysterical tears at the thought of poor Toby getting so excited to see his owners arrive home from vacation that he wound himself up into such a mess he died of heat stroke. I was laying there weeping leaving Matt very confused with my spontaneous outbreak, but when he realized the extent of my hysterics, calmed me down and made a mental note to never ever bring up Toby’s death ever again. Just store that memory in the silent box in the back of his brain where he also keeps the death of the Crocodile Hunter – another devastation I cannot bear to relive.

I know that I must be nearly unbearable to reside with at this point, as I’d imagine most pregnant women within are within days of their due date (see above hysterics). But my best friend and lover has taken such good care of me these last few days, that I cannot complain about the nagging aches and pains, the endless waiting. He has stepped in to walk me through this crazy time of my life and to face my fears right beside me. I am reminded again just how lucky I am to have him, and likewise how important it is to protect my time with him. He is and always will be the most important person in my life, the love of my life, and my soulmate.

So thankyou, Matthew, for making this weekend, possibly our last weekend alone, so much fun. For caring for me and making me slump over in laughter.

And for being taller and hotter than Robert Pattinson.

I’ve discussed our car shopping before, and yes, we’re still shopping. Because we loved the Outback but wanted to wait until the 2011s are on the lot so we might be able to get a gently used 2010. At least that was our thinking until I found a used 2009 Nissan Rogue at an outrageously good price where we would be allowed a 3-day rental to test her out.

After much finagling, I finally picked her up today, and was surprised to see she was blue after being listed as grey. 8% of men are colorblind, so I chalked it up to that, and proceeded to drive her home with the volume cranked. Since we’ll be listening to music on Marshall 11 with sleeping kids in the back seat.

Most people would want to try out all of the funky features and see how it performs at high speeds. Not me. The first priority I had was to pull out both my infant carseat and my convertible carseat and snap them in with every possible configuration. Two rear-facing, one front facing, side-by-side, and with space in between. This I did crammed into the backseat myself, at 8 months pregnant, with both doors shut because there was a thunderstorm and torrential downpour taking place at the same time.

Take this photo, and then imagine, if you will, my big fat white booty squished in there between the carseats pushing, pulling and groaning to make sure the seats were secure. FOR MY INVISIBLE CHILDREN’S SAFETY!

From Daily Daguerreotype

Quickest route to premature labor EVER.

Tomorrow I’m taking the car for an inspection to make sure that no disasters are hidden under the roof. After which I plan on flying to DC to square away this oil spill disaster, then on to Baghdad to get our troops out, and then to Africa to stop world hunger. While my physique would beg to differ, I have never been so efficient, so stream-lined, and so thorough as I am now, at 35 weeks pregnant.

The past few weeks have been harried and hectic and stressful and fun. So much has gone on that I am finding it hard to sort it all out into something writable. So I’m scrapping all of that to write about light fixtures. This post will inevitably change the world.

Throughout the process of renovating our house I have come to the conclusion that I have a love affair with two things, fabrics and lights. I’m convinced they can completely change the mood of a room, or a house even. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, I really don’t know) both light fixtures and fabrics seem to be a get-what-you-pay-for kinda scenario. I’ve found that I fall head over heels for very expensive light fixtures and then need to spend days finding affordable versions of them, which inevitably wind up with logistical problems.

Our dining room pendant should have taken fifteen minutes to install, but because I fell in love with a fixture that was not meant to be hardwired to the ceiling, Matt had to work some serious magic to get it up there. Three hours and much rolling of eyes later, he installed a free (!) and lovely solution that I adore:

For the bathroom I searched high and low for just the right fixture, splurged a little on price, and then found it necessary for Matt to completely rebuild the wall behind it with spackle since the previous fixture took up far more space. But again I was tickled pink with how it turned out.

This morning Matt is busy wiring up lights that I picked out for the second floor. Before the drywall was installed, I asked him to completely rewire the lighting above our stairwell so that the hideously ugly track lighting could be switched over to a a flushmount and tasteful wall sconce. I found the sconce that I wanted, but once again, it would take some jerry-rigging to hardwire it into the wall and hide a hole in the fixture. In fact I need to spend a few hours this week finding a small brushed nickel knob to hide said hole. Because I can’t just make it easy, can I?

Once Matt finishes installing the fixtures upstairs, we’ll basically be done replacing lights throughout the house. And to keep my husband from walking out on me, I’ve decided to just stick with table lamps from now on.

Although then I might need him to add more outlets to the house.

Today I was interviewed by The Tennessean for an article that is coming out in Sunday’s paper on midwifery in Tennessee. How was I found, you wonder? Because I constantly open my big fat mouth and splurt about midwives all over the internets. For fun.

I am sooooo excited about this article (the second newspaper article I’ve been interviewed for… EVER!) because I really enjoy reading this health reporter’s columns as she’s very fair and balanced. And I think we could all use a bit more health reporting that is balanced. Something along the lines of OMG! SWINE FLU = THE APOCALYPSE!

Plus I love that she’s bringing attention to midwifery – a subject that sadly very few women know anything about. I know that I personally knew nothing about midwifery until I started doing my own research because it’s just not in the public eye.

At any rate, this is all falling on the week that we returned from a fun trip to the East Coast. Meaning I had no food in the house and the house was a mess. We had just finished painting the kitchen floor, so the kitchen was ripped apart. And the drywall for the upstairs gets delivered tomorrow morning with the crew right behind ready to start working. Tomorrow morning Matt has his board certification exam, which is just a tiny little bit important. Meaning if he passes he gets a nice fat raise. And the letters behind his name will now say “M.A.  B.C.B.A.”

Then we’ve got Matt’s climbing buddy coming in from Massachusetts on Saturday to go rock climbing for the weekend, and my mom arrives on Monday morning to hang out with me for a week. Which means I will frantically clean every nook and cranny of my house only to have her arrive and clean it all much better than I did the first time. And I will love and adore her for it.

And somewhere in there, I need to finish the nursery because the photographer from The Tennessean will be coming by to take a picture. Of me. At seven months pregnant and heavy enough to be a mean and competitive contestant on The Biggest Loser.

Strangely enough, all of this hectic activity is actually really good for me. I work best under tight deadlines, and frankly get a rush from anything that feels a little bit like a high school theatrical production.

But if I completely crash and forget to pick my mom up from the airport on Monday morning, can someone please tell her it was all because I opened my big fat mouth? She’ll roll her eyes and understand.

I really didn’t sleep last night. I may have been laying in bed for five hours, but I remember most of it, which leads me to believe that no sleep was had.

It was a late night – Matt accidentally downloaded a bad file that sent trojan viruses through the computer, which I stayed up late trying to repair. I think all is well now, but I will not be surprised if a window pops up with an African-American basketball player rapping about my credit score – I’ve already seen him once today.

When I did finally lie down for the night, Pendragon wouldn’t stop squirming around. Overall she’s a pretty mellow chica, but last night she was wide awake. There really must be something to the “sleep when the baby is sleeping” since she really, honestly kept me awake. Downside is I’m fairly certain “the baby” hasn’t slept in 24 hours.

I was up early to go to a friends house for a women’s prayer group and got absolutely lost on my way over there. So much for going into it “totally knowing how to get there.” I was calling her every five minutes for directions which seriously inhibited my driving as I’m not good at multi-tasking while driving a manual yet. I kissed the sky that I was in Tennessee as Mass drivers would have slaughtered me with my erratic behavior.

Overall it feels like a day that is challenging me to stay posicore. Just as I was about to kick the cat out of frustration, Matt texted me saying  ”Extra fun surprise coming!!” When I inquired further he responded, “Special treat.”

Instantly, out of nowhere, my mind ran to “I hope he’s won $250,000.” I’m not sure why that figure came to mind, or how exactly Matt would have won that sum of money, but that’s what I thought.

I’d also settle for a bouquet of flowers.

OR A WHOLE BOTTLE OF PINO GRIGIO ALL TO MYSELF.

Whaddya think it is? Bets and/or affirmations of the wine/$250,000 theories are welcome in the comments.

For those of you who follow me on Facebook and Twitter, you’re already well aware that I may or may not have spent the very early portion of Sunday morning in an emergency room at a posh hospital in the Chicago suburbs. I may or may not have gone to the hospital after spending seven hours of Saturday evening vomiting promptly every thirty minutes for a total of fifteen pukes and two unfortunate changes of underwear. I also may or may not have found out that vomiting in your third trimester is made easier by being on all fours, and that in moments of desperation I will beg the nearest ER nurse for an IV to rehydrate me – things I never would have assumed before this weekend.

I caught a stomach bug that was goin around, and I’m pleased to say that it gave the Hof and I some good preparatory experience for what I’d imagine D-day will entail: multiple calls to the midwife (who was kind enough to coach us through my stomach bug in the midst of delivering babies), many, many clean towels, and my exclamation to everyone I was wheeled past in the hospital that “I’M TWENTY NINE WEEKS PREGNANT!” for fear they would inject me with some drug unsafe for my daughter in utero.

You hear these horror stories of people who were given a drug they were allergic to because their emergency medical band fell off, or a dosage gone wrong because the nurse was overworked, underpaid, and just needed a vacation forheavensake! Well I was determined not to be one of those people and questioned everything that went into my IV – what would the side effects be and um, hi, but my face is tingling, just as an FYI. At one point, when I reminded the nurse that “I’M TWENTY NINE WEEKS PREGNANT! And is this safe for the baby?” she responded with a snarky, “the doctor wouldn’t have prescribed it if it wasn’t safe for the baby.”

So that’s when I just shut up, told her she had gorgeous hair, and turned on the tele to watch Ben Harper on Austin City Limits. About five minutes after that miracle-working hydrating IV, I was ranting to Matt about how STUPID Reliant K was, how Ben was just letting it all go to pot, and myohmy how I LOVE THIS IV!

The whole ordeal was really rather comical (aside from the moments when I really feared my daughter was in danger), and we had a stupendous weekend with family although it was cut short. My biggest regret? Not being able to eat my sister’s slow-roasted Chicago beefs. I cut all of that meat the day beforehand and didn’t even get to taste it!

Now that we’re home, my system is slowly returning to normal. And frankly, as I head off to the grocery store today to fill our empty fridge, I look forward to doing so with a non-existant appetite – something I haven’t experienced in seven months. You really can’t imagine how nice it will be to walk past the bakery and not fight with myself over whether or not I need to buy five chocolate cakes… one for each workday BECAUSE I WORK SO HARD!