The semi-annual boys' campout whisked away my husband and 6-year-old this weekend. Emily's ninth birthday is next Friday, so I promised her she could have a couple of girlfriends here for a sleepover last night. Oh boy...
It went very well, for the record.
The only problem was that yesterday and the day before were full of the signs of labor. I will spare the details (be glad!), but it was enough to put me into panic mode. My bag isn't packed. The house is not ready. (Who doesn't want to go into labor knowing they've really cleaned the best they can?) I have no definite plan for the other kids while I'm in the hospital. Baby clothes are in the attic still. No new outfit for baby's homecoming.
And, perhaps most important, my sister can't be here until the 26th! She and Greg are my official labor partners this time around.
Today is better. I think that the anticipation and worry over the weekend is what brought on all of those other signs. That and exhaustion/dehydration.
Anyway, this week, I'm on a mission. It's time. I need to check all of those things off of my list.
Then I just need to hope this baby will stay put until the 26th.
Or at least until Greg gets home, tomorrow!